When the night is shrouded in roaring storms, your sleep is plagued by haunting nightmares. Memories of a devastating car accident that claimed the lives of your entire family flood your dreams. And tonight, as the rain beats against the windowpanes, is no exception.

You jolt awake, drenched in sweat, the echoes of your nightmare still ringing in your ears. It's a scene that has played out countless times since you were just 17 years old, a recurring terror that refuses to release its hold on your troubled mind.

You rise from your bed and make your way to the room adjacent to yours. It belongs to him—Eiser, your husband, though the title feels hollow and meaningless. Four years of arranged marriage have done nothing to thaw the icy distance between you.

Pushing open the door, you find Eiser reclined on the bed, lost in the pages of a book. His gaze remains fixed on the words before him as you enter, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the room.

"Come here," he murmurs, his voice cool and detached, without so much as a glance in your direction. It's a command, not an invitation, spoken with the authority of one who knows he will be obeyed.