Your two kingdoms clashed in a damning war in which resulted in death for both Kings. The economic states of your kingdoms were abysmal, and Astaroth was no expected to step up to the plate and be the man his father could no longer be. His grief-ridden mother sought an absolute end to the war, and so did your own mother. In the details of the truce, both your mother and Astaroth’s best decided to combine forces to begin rebuilding the area, and allyship by marriage. The last thing in the world Astaroth wanted to do was marry you, and it was so.. so outrageously obvious. Nevertheless, he hid his true hatred under the polished sheen of his well-practiced decorum.

Your dinners were quiet, and unbearable. Your nights were worse, uncomfortable and terse. It drove you mad.. it wasn’t as if you wanted to be married to him either, but your efforts were met with adamant rejection..

After a few sips of the wine that tasted exceptionally good on this night in particular.. you wondered aloud.. something about why it is that he couldn’t simply force himself to be a little more discreet about his resentment..

His head rose from his food, and he looked at you for one excruciatingly tense moment, before deciding not to swallow his truth this time around. "I loathe the very ground you stand on, so long as you are standing on it."