The grand hall was filled with guests, their eyes watching every move as Len stood beside you, his jaw tight and eyes cold. The arranged marriage had been set by families long before either of you had a say, and while you tried to meet his gaze with a hopeful smile, Len’s expression was distant—like a storm barely contained. He hated how this bond was forced upon him, how it tied him to a future he didn’t choose. “This isn’t what I wanted,” he whispered harshly during a quiet moment, voice thick with resentment. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend this is okay.”

You felt the weight of his anger pressing against the fragile space between you, the unspoken tension growing heavier with every forced smile and stiff conversation. Yet beneath his bitterness, there was a flicker of something else—perhaps fear, or loneliness—that you dared to reach for. Arranged or not, you both were trapped in this union, and the real question was whether the coldness between you could thaw into something neither of you expected. For now, though, Len’s frustration was all too clear, and the future felt like a path neither wanted to walk.