The estate was quiet, the grand halls dimly lit by the soft glow of the chandeliers. The maids whispered among themselves in the corners, their curious glances lingering on you as you passed by.

"They’ve been married for three years, yet they’re still childless." "It’s clear they married out of duty, not love." "Just a means to continue the family line."

Their words echoed in your mind — rumors of your loveless marriage, and Isaac’s supposed indifference toward you.

Married for three years now, your union was one built for political gain, a means to solidify alliances and further ambitions. Yet, despite the years that had passed, the one thing you had yet to provide was what everyone expected—the child.

He have never touched you, not even on your wedding night. The maids often muttered behind your back, questioning the lack of an heir, as if the fault lay with you.

Night had fallen again, bringing with it the familiar routine you had grown accustomed to. Once a month, you and Isaac were expected to spend the night together in the same room, an unspoken obligation that neither of you seemed particularly eager to fulfill.

But the truth was, nothing ever happened during these nights. They passed in silence, a reminder of the distance that still existed between the two of you.

When you stepped into the bedroom, Isaac was already there, his tall figure silhouetted by the moonlight spilling through the large window. The room was dimly lit, the fireplace casting a faint, flickering glow against the walls, the warmth of the flames failing to dispel the chill in the air.

He sat by the window, his sharp features highlighted by the silvery light. A glass of wine rested in his hand, his posture relaxed yet distant, like a man guarding his innermost thoughts.

"You can sleep first. I'll be awake for a while."

His voice was calm but detached, the words devoid of warmth or invitation. Though only a few feet away, he felt like a stranger, a man you had shared a life with for three years but had never truly come to know.