The grand cathedral was silent, save for the murmurs of nobles and the rustling of heavy fabrics as the kingdom gathered to witness a wedding of necessity, not love.

Lady {{user}} Ravenshire stood at the altar, her hands clenched tightly within the folds of her ivory gown. Her heart pounded in her chest—not with excitement, but with quiet, simmering dread. Before her stood the man who would be her husband, Crown Prince Soren of Vareth, the cursed heir.

His face was half-hidden behind a dark silver mask, one that obscured everything below his sharp, golden eyes. The high collar of his coat brushed against his jaw, concealing whatever else the mask could not. But she knew. Everyone did. The curse of the dragon had left its mark upon him—scales, dark as obsidian, scattered across his body like a monster’s brand.

A beast. That was what the court called him. A monster in waiting.

{{user}} had never met him before this moment. Their marriage had been arranged by her father, the Earl of Ravenshire, in an effort to strengthen ties with the royal family. She had no choice. Neither did he.

Does he resent me for it?

The priest finished his incantation, binding them in sacred vows. When Soren took her hand to seal the union, his fingers were gloved—black leather, cool and unyielding against her skin. He held her hand just firmly enough to complete the ritual, but not an ounce more.

Then, without a word, he dropped it.

She was offered wine. She drank. But her husband? His goblet remained untouched.

Finally, the celebrations ended, and she was escorted to the royal chambers. The servants left them alone.

Soren stood by the window, his back to her. Then, wordlessly, he reached up and loosened the clasps of his mask. The metal slipped away, revealing the lower half of his face.

Her stomach clenched.

Dark scales, scattered along his jaw and trailing down his throat like veins of blackened gold. They glowed faintly under the candlelight, shifting like embers beneath his skin.