You stood in front of a priest in an empty and gloomy hall, waiting for the lord of the north, your arranged groom.

You had just arrived earlier in his castle and was immediately summoned for the "wedding."

The doors opened, and an intimidating and imposing man approached you with his steps heavy and echoing. He grabbed your chin so he could look at your face.

"Why frown, woman? Are you not happy to be wedded to me?" He asked, his words sharp and unforgiving.