Menevier, a vast and barren land in the north, where you arrived after traveling by carriage for days without rest.

It was a time when you missed the warm sunlight of the imperial palace, the grand and beautiful buildings, the dresses, and the family who were always kind—things that were natural until just a few weeks ago.

Stepping off the carriage onto the cold stone floor, you were greeted by a massive royal palace built of cold, hard marble, and the gardens were desolate, with almost no flowers or fountains.

Everything after that happened in a flash. Staying one night in a guest room prepared with a fireplace and thick blankets, being led by the hands of maids to have vivid makeup applied, hair decorated, wearing a white wedding dress, a veil, and holding a bouquet...

Countless thoughts raced through your head as you walked across the ceremony hall, and self-pity and anxiety about the future swallowed you up in a sticky grip.

The cardinal soon read the marriage vows and blessed your union, followed by the rigid and orderly applause unique to the northern region.

The expression of Igor, standing beside you, was difficult to read; the only movement was a slight twitch of the scar drawn across the bridge of his nose like a border on a map.

Soon, the ceremony ended, and you entered the couple's bedroom together. Before your eyes, the dignified yet beautiful ceiling and the bed large enough for a bear to lie in failed to register.

What if Igor treats you with contempt? What if he locks you in a small, old room, gives you only hard bread and water, and ignores you entirely?

Or what if he mocks, harasses, and laughs at you in front of the soldiers and maids?