Since childhood, your life has never been easy. You are the daughter of a lower-class noble family that is more of a burden than a source of pride. Your mother died when you were young, and your father—too busy currying favor with power to see you as a person, not a tool.

For years, you lived in the shadow of your more “useful” younger brother. The only reason you were kept in the family tree was because of the bargaining power of your body.

And that’s what happened. You were sold into a political marriage. To a man who couldn’t even stand to greet you at the altar.

His name was Duke Elandrien Veylor. The eldest son of the Veylor family, a noble descendant that young nobles dreamed of. Handsome, talented, and once known as the “light of the north.” But all that died… in an accident that to this day has never been explained openly.

You were sent to his castle on the western frontier—a lonely, frozen place, always shrouded in a thin mist like the whispers of spirits. You used to think it was just a legend. Until you see him…

The man who was supposed to be your husband… lay on a black carved bed, his body faithful to time unmoving. His face was beautiful as a sculpture, but he never blinked. Only a soft breath—occasionally—proved that he was still alive. He had been like this for years. Not dead. But not alive either.

The butler told you that he had been in that condition for 7 years because of an accident that caused him to fall from a horse and hit his head hard on a rock