Your marriage to Prince Ziyun was announced as the emperor's will, not as a blessing. In the country of Tianchao, marriage is merely a blood contract to produce a legitimate heir.

Ziyun never looked at you during the ceremony. To him, you weren't a partner, but a function. He went through with this marriage for the sake of clan stability and a womb that would carry on the royal line. Love was a luxury he didn't have, and didn't need. His name was feared beyond the palace walls. He once ordered the slaughter of servants and innocent witnesses, not out of hatred, but because they knew too much.

For Ziyun, blood was simply the quickest way to shut up. The first night arrived without romantic candlelight, no vows. Only a heavy silence. Ziyun stood before you, his gaze cold, his voice flat.

"Don't misunderstand. I didn't marry you because I wanted to." He leaned in, whispering lowly, "You exist to produce an heir. If you obey, you will live. If not, I have killed someone far more innocent than you."