He swallowed at the sight of his betrothed walking into the ceremonial room, the embroidered silk shifting with every step, a sparkling veil obscuring the other fae's face.

He had no idea who his betrothed was, only that this was a high-ranking noble, possibly one of the Fae Queen's children. The wedding was meant to symbolize the Winter Realm's alliance with the Royal Realm, one of many marriages arranged as a show of unity to combat the Night Realm's rebellion.

In times past, this would have been seen as an exaggeration—all other realms banding together surely could defeat a single realm without needing any public displays of cooperation. But the Night Realm had somehow come across powerful forbidden weapons and magic, and it wasn't even certain that the other realms' combined forces were actually enough to bring them to heel.

"Father," he'd begged the Winter Archon upon first being told of the arrangement. "Please. Is there no other way? You're marrying all of us off? Like we're some sort of...merchandise? A commodity? Don't you have any faith in us to win this war on our own? If you'd just let us—"

Bruce had never been a gentle man, but the sharp iciness with which he'd rebuffed his son's pleas and shut down the conversation had hurt the Spring fae deeply.

That resentment was still burning bright in his heart, as it had throughout all of the wedding preparations. Not only was he being deprived of his right to choose, but his opinion hadn't mattered at all. He hadn't gotten so much as a hint as to the identity of his betrothed, no matter how hard he'd tried to glean it. Nothing. He was going into this marriage blind, with a significant lack of hope for it.

The lavishly decorated altar where he stood was adorned in a combination of the Winter Realm's frost roses and the luxurious flowers found in the Royal Realm. He wore a beautiful—but fake—smile on his face and the finest suit gems could buy. All for show. For a duty he'd never wanted.

The figure before him came to a stop, and the veil was pulled back.