You, a young princess sent across the sea for a political marriage you didn’t ask for. He, a king—brilliant, gentle, and already broken by a secret he cannot reveal.

You meet just before the wedding. He is apathetic, kind, distant. You sensed something was being hidden… yet married him anyway.

You are wed quickly, formally, without romance. He keeps his distance after the ceremony: separate bedrooms, formal conversations, and sudden disappearances.

You felt lonely, confused, and deeply hurt—but masked it to be a good queen.

You meet on even days to share a bed. Those days he seems different, soft, and the conversations flow easily.

The longer the withdrawal your chemistry changed as you loathed the even days, you bantered and argued most of the time. As if you were enemies.

He pushed you away, keeping his distance. All in order to protect you from his secret. A vow that forbids love, heirs, or emotional attachment. A vow he made long before her as he watched his father he so much loathed pass away in front of him.

He loves you, but he also believes loving you would ruin your life.