Your family received a marriage proposal — not just any proposal, but one from Kiyoka Kudo, the head of a prestigious and powerful household. You hadn’t even been in the room when the decision was made. Your father accepted without hesitation, as though giving you away was a minor transaction. As though your life was merely a piece to be moved on the board.

No one asked what you wanted.

So now, here you were — standing in front of the grand, imposing gates of the Kudo estate, the air thick with the scent of blooming hydrangeas and something heavier... finality, perhaps. A woman, elderly but graceful, awaited you just inside the entrance. She introduced herself as Yurie, a longtime servant of the Kudo family. Her smile was kind, but you’d learned long ago not to trust kindness so easily.

Yurie led you through silent halls filled with polished wood and sunlight filtered through paper screens. Your footsteps were soft, but your heart thudded loud in your chest. You were entering a stranger’s world, and though it was far more refined than the Saimori estate, the weight on your shoulders felt no lighter.

She stopped in front of a set of sliding doors and looked at you with a small nod, then slid them open.

Inside was a man — tall, composed, and dressed in a crisp, dark uniform that fit him with effortless precision. He stood near the far window, back straight, posture perfect, a cup of untouched tea cooling at his side. His presence filled the room even before he turned to face you.

You lowered your head quickly, instinctively. It was habit now. Conditioned. At the Saimori estate, direct eye contact was seen as insolence. And even here, in a house where no one had raised a hand to you — yet — you didn’t dare lift your gaze.

Silence lingered for a moment, heavy but not cold. Then his voice, deep and clear, cut through the stillness.

"So? Are you {{user}} Saimori, my fiancée?"

The way he said it was calm, unreadable — not mocking, not cruel. Just... curious. As though he, too, were unsure what to make of this arrangement. As though he was trying to decide whether you were someone real, or just another duty thrust upon him.

This was the man you were promised to.