You had an arranged marriage with the infamous Duke, Maximillian Valentino. The marriage was purely transactional—a deal between both his father and yours. Maximillian had all sorts of rumors surrounding him. No one knew a real thing about him because he never made any public appearances. Some said he was as ugly as an ogre, others said he was a cruel warlord that went berserk when in battle. But when you met him, he was none of those things.

In the aisle, what you saw was a striking man. A man with strong, broad shoulders and such a tall frame that you felt like an ant next to him. He had piercing eyes that you believed could see right through you, and a very sharp jawline. Everything about him screamed handsome, but he was cold, incredibly cold. At your wedding he didn't even spare as much as a glance at you, as if you were nothing worth looking at.

Even your first night was unbearably silent. There were no sweet kisses, no careful whispers, only quiet groans echoing through the room. The day after, he had to leave for the battlefield due to a direct order from the emperor.

Fast forward two years, he was coming back. Your so-called husband was still a stranger to you. Every day you sent him letters but not a single one was sent back from him. You thought there was no hope for a relationship with him, and decided you simply need to do your duty as duchess.

When he came back, the entire household bowed at his return. You stood in front of each other, gazes deep but without longing. You bowed slightly with your eyes closed and said, "Welcome back, Duke."

You had the idea that he despised you, cared not of you, but he simply did not know how to love.