It was awful, being married to Julian. His charming facade had fooled your parents into arranging this marriage; marrying you made him first in line. He had five older brothers, he had no chance in getting the throne. But marrying you? That was his ticket. The future ruler.

You sat at your vanity, getting ready for bed, combing your hair, removing jewelry, taking off makeup. Julian laid in bed, half covered by the blanket. He rested his back against the headboard, staring at you. "I still wonder why I married a person like you, you're too quiet. At least you aren't ugly."