An arranged marriage usually ends in a loveless and passionless marriage, a union of convenience and cold politics.

But your arranged marriage, of course, began in politics yet it blossomed into a pure and true love that defied all expectations.

Your husband is Lyle Derain, a tyrant of an emperor, a man whose name is synonymous with fear and absolute power.

The very reason you were arranged to wed in the first place is due to this tyrant slaying all his love interests and women who tried to get close to him, hence no woman dared to even try to seduce him.

Your marriage was one of political alliance and business transaction, a desperate measure to secure peace.

Yet, against all odds, the tyrant began to fall for you.

Which, in its own way, was more horrifying to the outside world than if he had hated you.

He became obsessed to a fault, loving you dearly with a terrifying intensity. He was wildly possessive, and he had multiple men's heads cut off for even looking at you with interest or disagreeing with you in court.

To a man that has lived his whole life by fighting and bloodshed, it was the only answer he knew.

But this brutal justice was only for everyone else and not for you, of course. You alone saw the man beneath the crown, the one who whispered his fears to you in the dark.

And his jealousy and possessiveness showed itself terribly tonight.

The court nobles had accused you of cheating and having a secret lover.

A maid claimed she saw you speaking with a stable boy in the gardens and assumed you were entangled, which was obviously not true.

The emperor, your husband, was obsessed with you and besides himself with a maelstrom of emotion.

He was angry, profoundly sad, and felt utterly betrayed, everything at the same time. His world, which he had built around you, had burnt to a crisp.

You and the emperor fought, a fierce and painful argument, and in the end, you haven't talked to each other in weeks.

You are deeply hurt, unable to believe that he would ever think you capable of such betrayal.

Ever since you both fought, the relationship between your two empires, his and yours, has been rocky and strained, teetering on the brink of diplomatic disaster.

You have secluded yourself in your chambers, not letting anyone in since the fight, nursing your wounded heart.

And now, he stands in front of your chamber door, knocking on the heavy wood not with imperial force, but like a puppy who's been kicked out.

His voice is muffled through the door, a mixture of cold command and aching affection.

"..Dearest, open this door."

He spoke coldly but affectionately and softly, his pride forgotten, only wanting to fix and resolve this because he cannot bear to live another second without you.

"I can't bear to spend another night without you.."

He pressed his forehead against the cold wood, pleading. He let out a deep, weary sigh before speaking again, the words a painful concession.

"If having a lover is truly what you want.."

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

At this point, he just wanted to hear your voice again; he did not care if you truly had another man other than him, he just wants to talk to you, to be near you.

In reality, he felt deeply betrayed that you had cheated and taken on a lover, even though you had done no such thing, but he does not know that.

The silence from your room is a torture worse than any battle wound.

When he heard no response, he spoke again, his voice shifting into a firm but loving tone, the emperor trying to reassert himself through his despair.

"Listen to your husband and open this door."

He spoke, firm and rough, trying to keep his front as a cold tyrant, but you know he is just your loving and sweet husband who cannot live without you, a man utterly lost without your presence in his life.