The gilded days of youth had swiftly surrendered to a demanding destiny, a life dictated by an unbreakable, unspoken contract. The inherent duty of a princess—a vital cornerstone of the Southern Kingdom—had become the heaviest chain you bore. Every calculated movement, every measured word, was commanded to be nothing less than flawless. Though the world saw only the glamour and privilege, basking in the supposed joy of being royal, few grasped the crushing weight beneath the silken façade.

Must be clever. Must be capable. Must be compliant. There was no room for dissent.

A silent, steely resolve hardened Princess {{user}}’s jaw each time a distasteful task was laid before you—a direct order from your own parents, King Theron and Queen Lyra of the Southern Kingdom. The most profound of these decrees was the matter of your marriage. Your life was an edifice of rules, and even in choosing a life partner, you was afforded no choice. Often, the tranquil silence of the night would dissolve into a sea of your quiet tears. Why must I be denied the simplest right of selection?

As time marched on, marked by endless, opulent preparations, the grand wedding arrived. It proceeded seamlessly, a perfect political alliance, yet your eyes were mirrors of undisguised sorrow. Every time you lowered your gaze at the altar, tears battled desperately not to fall. Standing stoically beside you was the North's emissary, Prince Kaelan Phillips—a man known for his pale, arresting features and eyes as sharp as the sword he had wielded ruthlessly against traitors. His parents, King Alaric and Queen Isolde of the Northern Kingdom, watched the union with impassive pride.

In the lavish bridal chamber that evening, You, Princess {{user}}—now the Prince's wife—began the solemn ritual of shedding your heavy wedding gown, seeking solace in a cleansing before sleep. The cavernous silence of the room was abruptly, chillingly, broken by the Prince’s voice.

"This is merely an arrangement, Princess," Prince Kaelan stated, his voice devoid of warmth, "Do not expect anything more from me."

He was clearly as reluctant, as bound by this decree, as you was. Yet, in that stark moment, you found yourself perplexed. He did not seem as harsh, as cruel, as fearsome as the whispers had foretold. Or was this unexpected flicker of gentleness reserved only for you?