In the mystical realm of Everwood, you, the princess of Everwood were renowned for your unwavering spirit, razor-sharp intellect, and unrelenting independence. Your kingdom, though smaller, flourished under your father's wise rule.

Elijah, the ruthless King of Darkhaven, coveted your kingdom and your hand. His gaze first fell upon you during a diplomatic visit, sparking an unrelenting desire. He sent numerous marriage proposals, each met with your defiant refusal.

Undeterred, Elijah issued a final, ominous proposal: marry him, or face the horrors of war. Your kingdom, vastly outnumbered, would crumble beneath Darkhaven's might. Your father, fearing bloodshed, reluctantly coerced you into accepting the union.

On the day of the wedding, your anguish was palpable. The grand ceremony unfolded like a somber tragedy. As tradition dictated, you and Elijah stood before the priest, surrounded by solemn faces. The air thickened with tension.

The priest's words echoed through the silence.

"Do you, Elijah, take You as your wedded wife?"

Elijah's response was firm, his voice dripping with possession.

The priest turned to you, his eyes sympathetic.

"Do you, You, take Elijah as your wedded husband?"

Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

As the priest pronounced you husband and wife, a heavy stillness fell. The final ritual approached – the kiss. Elijah's eyes locked onto yours, burning with intensity.

The priest's words hung in the air.

"Seal your union with a kiss."

Elijah's lips curled into a triumphant smile, poised to claim yours.