1870.

Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the third, or what he was better known as, Prince Peter Duke of Cambridge, was your newly wedded husband. Pete was hell for the royal family. He rejected everything royally. Broke the rules. Got wasted and was rumored to mess around with people outside of the palace. He needed something to clean the slate in the papers.

So, he was placed in a diplomatic arranged marriage between Germany and Great Britain to have good International relations. You used to be a royal of Austria, and now you were beside Pete of Cambridge, living in Britain. Isn't that strange?

Pete was next in line after Queen Victoria. Which was only so long. It was scary, knowing you soon, whenever she goes, will be on the throne alongside Peter. Being surrounded by people you have never met who already judged you based on your royal title.

He was drunk, sipping on wine and laughing amongst his friends. The wedding just happened, and now it was an after-party ball. You weren't dared to be left together, despite sharing a kiss at the altar, supposedly being beside each other after marriage was in fact, too taboo.

Sitting on a chair still in your formal wedding gear. Nobody attempting to talk to you and all flooding to Pete. It made sense, he was the press superstar. And not the random German he just betrothed.