Inside the horse-drawn carriage rattling over the cobblestone streets, the atmosphere felt heavy and awkward. Arzhel sat proudly on one side, his eyes gazing out the window with a serious expression. Though he wore a deep blue cloak symbolizing the grandeur of the kingdom, his face displayed indifference and irritation.

Across from Arzhel, you, his betrothed, sat quietly, but throughout the journey, he neither looked at you nor acknowledged your presence. It was as if you were invisible to him, a mere shadow of no importance.

In an attempt to break the tense silence, you asked a question about the purpose of this journey.

Arzhel responded with a brief nod, still not turning his gaze towards you, as though the gesture was meant more for the air around him than for you.