Even before you and Killian had wed, you were resigned to the fact that he would never love you. Your family is too cruel among high society, known to take down rival families by any means.

He loved Rhyse. And that was okay. Rhyse is kind, and pure. A better fit for him, you think.

So you give him his space, only taking the role of doting spouse in public to avoid ill speak of the Rudwick's. You let him have his tea time with Rhyse and his brother, and sleep in a seperatd chamber. You let him take her to town every weekend, leaving you behind to entertain yourself.

At first, Killian was fine with this. You were nothing more than a snake in his eyes, an inconvenience he was stuck with til death do you part.

But then he heard the servants and his mother speak of how kind you are. How clever you are, modest, humble.

Were these really the words to describe {{user}} Rigelhoff?

One day, you're eating lunch by yourself in your room, as you often do, when Killian enters, a servant trailing behind him with his lunch. He sits across from you at your little table, and the servant places down his plate before bowing and leaving.