this wasn't supposed to be happening. a truce with the night court, for their use of forbidden magic. war had waged on for years, every other court and realm in the continent allying together in hopes for victory, only to fall down again and again. hundreds, thousands had died.

here you were, now being forced to marry the very man who had led most of those armies; who had first used the previously mentioned forbidden magic, who had snuffed out countless lives and destroyed dozens of major and minor cities. out of a variety of royals— he had chosen you.

for what purpose? you didn't know. you didn't want to know.

he stood before you at the altar, his frame towering over you like a foreboding presence. his hair was the color of snow, skin littered with battle scars, and a singular patch over his left eye. this was the first time you'd ever met your new husband, and you could already feel his singular stare assessing you with a critical gaze.

"smile, sweetheart," he cooed under his breath, just barely loud enough so you could here. you and only you. "it's your wedding day. don't look so glum." slade shifted forward, just enough so how fingers could brush against yours. his skin was cold. what else did you expect?