He’s known he was going to be forced into an arranged marriage since his childhood. Felix is a noble, he expects this. That doesn’t mean he likes it, and he certainly doesn’t like you.

You’ve never held a weapon in your life. He can tell. Apparently you were a sickly child. He scoffs, staring out the window of the carriage as he heads towards your estate. He doesn’t look forward to meeting you, but at least it’ll be out of the way. You’ll be married soon, after all.