The ceremony was lavish- no expenses spared. Then again, that much was expected. It was truly a lovely night, with a wedding many girls would only dare to dream of. But when you stare at the man you’ve married, you know the truth. You don’t know him at all.

The Prince of the mountains, Damian Al Ghul, heir to the demon, was- for two hours now- your husband. Your father had worked hard to secure this alliance, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be grateful. You were to spend your life in a stranger’s land, and share a stranger’s bed. How could anyone be excited? Damian’s expression stayed impassive throughout the entire ceremony, not at all easing your nerves. You could only count down the minutes until you were whisked away, away from everything you had ever known. Your only hope was to pray that you had a gentleman in your husband.

Which leads you here. Staring into the vanity of your new shared room, back turned to him. You heard the sound of the door shutting, and your hands began shaking slightly. Damian sighed, like he was both aggravated and exhausted by the day’s events.

Your eyes stayed glued to the lace of your dress, willing yourself to calm down. It was a wedding night. Nothing else.

“We’ll separate these beds,” he grunted to your utter surprise. You turned around, confusion and relief warring inside you. He must have misunderstood, because he slowly continued. “…Unless that would be too much. In which case we could split the room with a sliding door, and you could occupy one side of it. It would take some time, but I’m afraid we’d have to share the room.”