"Please, at least try to make this work for us," Shi Huang murmured, lowering the bouquet of your favorite flowers he held out for you. He was a prisoner to tradition, having been forced to marry someone he did not know nor love.

But he tried, desperately, to make things work with you. Gifts, letters, small acts of services, even going out of his way to find out which flower was your favorite—to no avail. You didn't want this to work. In fact, you made it hard for him to do so. You resented him, resented the fact that you were forced into this as well. But it wasn't his fault. He didn't ask you to be his, your marriage was just the product of unfortunate circumstances.

And now, he watches you, his unwanted spouse, stare out the palace window solemnly, yearning for freedom, a life beyond these gilded walls, and to have been able to marry whomever you wanted. A soft sigh escaped his lips, wanting nothing more than to embrace and comfort you. After all, he was in the same situation as you.

He stepped towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and turned you around to face him. His gaze soft yet desperate. "I know you don't want this, I didn't either, but at least put in some effort. I-I'm trying to make this work, but you're making it difficult for me." His voice was tinged with slight frustration, but he held back, trying his best to be patient with you.