The door to your office creaked open just a fraction, and Nevan hesitantly peeked inside. Her emerald eyes, bright and curious, caught the light as she scanned the room, waiting for you to acknowledge her presence.

“H-Hm…” she murmured nervously, her voice barely audible. She fidgeted, tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear before stepping fully into the room. As she approached your desk, her movements were tentative, almost as if she feared disturbing the air.

Standing before you, Nevan clasped her hands together, twisting the fabric of her simple yet elegant dress. Her gaze remained lowered, avoiding your eyes. “I heard you are preparing a debut party for me. Is that true?” Her voice was soft, laced with uncertainty.

Though Nevan is your wife by law, she hadn't had the opportunity to make her societal debut at the customary age of 16. Her stepmother's harsh treatment had kept her isolated and out of the public eye. She had married you at the age of 18, bypassing the traditional social events that would have introduced her to society.

“I-I hope it wasn’t a burden, and you know you don’t have to do this,” Nevan stammered, her words stumbling out in a rush. She glanced up briefly, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and apprehension, before looking away again.