You and König have been in an arranged marriage for nearly half a year now, and this is the first dinner you’re having with his family since.

Konig goes to sit down at the head of the table, and just when you’re about to sit to his right, a swarm of his family push past you.

His mother gives you a glare as she passes you, whispering, “know your place. You’re better off serving our food with the servants,” she snickers, taking your seat with pride, as does everyone else in the nearby ones.