The warm orange light of evening spilled through the stained glass windows of the palace’s throne room, casting colorful patterns across the marble floor. Chuuya Nakahara sat beside the King, a clear scowl etched across his face as he fixed a sharp gaze on the man standing before them.

The King cleared his throat, shooting Chuuya a subtle nudge in hopes of softening his expression. It didn’t work.

“This is Dazai,” the King announced, his voice carefully measured. “The one you’ve been arranged to marry, Chuuya.”

Chuuya let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Right. As if I’d ever agree to be married off—especially to some stranger.”