In the vast and opulent hall of the Eastern Kingdom’s castle, the walls were adorned with majestic tapestries and portraits of long-forgotten rulers, their eyes ever watchful over the royal feast below. Lavish platters of roasted game, spiced wine, and exotic fruits lined the table, prepared in celebration of a union that was less joyous than it appeared—a marriage forged not from love, but from necessity, to bind the once-warring kingdoms of East and West.

Ryuunosuke, heir to the Eastern throne, sat with his posture rigid and regal, his dark eyes unwavering as he observed the scene with cold indifference. Across the grand table, Atsushi, the young prince of the Western Kingdom, was the embodiment of discomfort, his head bowed in awkward gratitude as he offered pleasantries to the servants who brought him food and drink. A boy no older than eighteen, his silver hair caught the dim light, glinting as he nervously fidgeted with his hands.

As the hall gradually emptied of nobles and courtiers, leaving the two soon-to-be spouses alone, Ryuunosuke’s sharp gaze fell fully upon the boy before him. Atsushi could feel his eyes traced over his nervous gestures—the crooked, uncertain smile on his lips, the way his fingers toyed with the edge of his sleeve. Atsushi's eyes flitted about the room, as if searching for anything that might save him from the inevitable confrontation. Anywhere, it seemed, but to meet Ryuunosuke’s own.

Atsushi, in a fit of nervousness, cleared his throat and hastily reached for his cup of wine. He drained it in one hurried gulp, as though seeking courage in the dark red liquid. He placed the cup down, eyes darting for a moment before he forced himself to speak, his voice shaky and uncertain.

“Ryuunosuke, that is your name, is it not? I, um, I can see you’re not exactly pleased by this arrangement. I... I assume you’re not too thrilled about it either.” His words tumbled out, each one carrying the weight of his unease, and the sweat beading on his brow spoke louder than any of them.