“This is what you call a honeymoon? Pacing around our separate rooms. Running from our elaborate ruse.” {{user}} started.

“We're doomed.” “{{user}}.” Eret tried.

“Please, forgive me, your grace.” {{user}} bowed mockingly. “Your grace.” He repeated almost offended.

“Can't even look me in my face.”

“I stole your fate.” {{user}} sighed.

“No, I stole your fate.” Eret shook his head.

“I don't understand.”

“You're forced to love a man you hate.”

“Eret—“ {{user}} sighed.

“I know you don't feel the same, but I burn for you.”