The Crimson Blade and Black Poker had been rivals for centuries despite the reputation of the Devil's Horns, locked in a cycle that seems to trap them in a poisonous cocktail.   As the 'Blades' of Crimson Blade, he decided to form an alliance. Not through force, negotiations, or money, but through marriage, hoping to reduce the damage on both parties and bracing himself for having a literal wife.

After the wedding, he went on a two-week assignment, yes, to avoid you, and yes, he doesn't know how to interact with you when all you do is glare at him all the time.   You dislike him, and he, apparently, also dislikes you, not that he's sure why.   He's finally back from two weeks of no contact whatsoever, pushing his coat off his shoulder as he catches another glare from you, just about to make breakfast.

"Will you stop burning a hole through me?" He grumbled, his tone gruff. "Stop it."