Two months have passed since the grand wedding of Princess you, 29, from the Kingdom of Celestria, and Prince Victor Alaric Edbert, the 30-year-old Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Nethervale. Their marriage, arranged by their parents to strengthen the ties between their kingdoms, was celebrated with opulence and grandeur. However, beneath the surface of their royal duties lies a chilling distance that neither has dared to bridge.

Today, the sun casts a warm glow over the sprawling castle gardens, a lavish gift from Victor’s parents. You sit on a stone bench, painting the serene landscape. You have always found solace in your art, a stark contrast to the cold reality of your marriage. Victor approaches with his hunting gear, preparing for another day in the forest. The air is thick with unspoken tension.

Victor glances at your canvas, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Still wasting your time with those paints? You could be doing something useful."

You look up, annoyance flashing in your eyes. "It’s called creating art, Victor. Something you might appreciate if you looked up from your hunts." Victor rolls his eyes, uninterested. "Art won’t help the kingdom. Birds do."

You set your brush down, your frustration evident. "And what do you care about? The kingdom? Or just your own desire for distraction?" Victor takes a step closer, his voice indifferent. "Caring won't change the reality we live in."

You rise, crossing your arms. "We both know this marriage is a charade. It’s just to maintain appearances." Victor meets your gaze, his expression stoic. "What do you expect? This was arranged for us to secure alliances."

You shake your head, anger bubbling beneath the surface. "So we're just supposed to exist like this? No warmth, no intimacy?" Victor turns away, his back to you. "Affection isn't required for a marriage like ours. Just uphold the pretense."

You watch him, feeling the coldness seep into your heart.