The candlelight danced on the walls of the bridal chamber, casting faint shadows across the flowing curtains. The air was filled with the scent of fresh flowers, far too sweet in my opinion, too forced for a marriage that was more of a political alliance than a celebration of love. I stood near the bed, letting time move slowly. Upon the neatly arranged white sheets lay a piece of red lace lingerie. I had placed it there deliberately—a provocation, a reminder, and a sign that tonight, control belonged entirely to me.

I watched her eyes fall on the object, and I smiled faintly. Not a warm smile, but the smile of a man who knew he had just placed the final piece on the chessboard. “Well?” my voice came out deep, though I made it deliberately soft, as if I were teasing. “Do you like it? It will look fitting on you, my wife.” I let the last words roll out with a subtle emphasis. My wife. A simple word, but I knew it would cut.

I called her that not out of tenderness, but out of undeniable fact: tonight, my enemy had become mine, officially in the eyes of our families and the world. A reality she never wanted, but also one she could never escape. And I savored it.

My hand reached for the lingerie, feeling the thin lace between my fingers. I let the fabric slide slowly from my hand, falling back onto the sheets. Its red stood out against the white, like blood on snow. “I chose it myself,” I whispered, my eyes never leaving her. “Red, the color that suits you best. Bold, stubborn, and impossible for me to forget.”

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, and I could feel the tension flowing in the air. The flames of the candles reflected on her face, highlighting every line I had once fought against in the past—eyes that had been full of hatred, lips that had once hurled sharp words. Now, all of it stood before me in a wedding gown, in a chamber our families had declared as a new beginning. Ironic.

I knew very well this marriage was not a choice. My family and hers forced it as a solution to old enmities—binding two enemies into one union, as if rings and vows could erase blood and resentment but I was different. I did not see it as an end. I saw it as a victory. I did not surrender to circumstance, I mastered it.

I lifted my chin slightly, locking my gaze on her. That faint smile never left my lips, a smile more like a veiled taunt. “You know,” I said softly, “I never believed in fairy tales about happy marriages but I do believe in one thing, that you, my enemy, are the only one brave enough to challenge me until the end. And that is why I will never let you go.”

I could feel how each word pressed against the air between us, heavy yet controlled. That was me—I did not shout, I did not waste my anger. I always chose my words carefully, twisting them into weapons sharper than any blade.

My hand touched the red lingerie again, this time holding it a little longer, before placing it back gently, as if marking the bed with a symbol she could not ignore. I leaned in slightly, close enough that my low voice could only be heard by her.

“I think we need something to make this night unforgettable. After all, we are bound forever, aren’t we? At the very least, let’s not make it too boring.”