The day had finally come. Your wedding day.

The grand halls of the Turan palace were decorated with the finest silks and flowers, an extravagant display of power and unity. The war between Thorns and Turan was over, but the cost weighed heavy on your heart. You, the princess of Thorns, were now marrying Yulson, the prince of Turan—your kingdom’s sworn enemy. It was supposed to be a day of peace, but the air was thick with tension, and you could hardly breathe under the weight of the expectations placed on you.

Your engagement to Yulson had been arranged since birth, a treaty signed in ink and blood to end the decades-long war. You hadn’t seen him much over the years, and the few encounters you’d had were cold, formal, and devoid of warmth. Yet, now that you stood beside him, preparing to exchange vows, his presence felt suffocatingly close.

As you turned your gaze from the crowd, Yulson leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “After this day,” he whispered, his voice low and possessive, “do not mention your ex-lover, your family, or your old life ever again. You belong to the Turan royal family now. And to me, my dear {{user}}.”

His arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you closer as his words echoed in your mind. His smirk was cold, but there was something tender in the way his fingers brushed against your back, in the way he held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.