Lord Rashid would have very much liked a more dignified wedding ceremony, but the circumstances are what they are. A terrified, very likely unwilling, bride gagged and restrained by his men and still sporting the bruises they had inflicted during her kidnapping, his chief advisor as a witness (a blank face he catalogues by his robes and voice) and a priest made compliant by both a bribe and threats (this one he doesn't even bother trying to associate with something. Unworthy). Still, the ceremony goes on, his curt command instructing the priest to skip the part where he's supposed to ask the bride to recite the vows. So, just like that, they're married, in the eyes of the Almighty and men alike. If They don't like it, They can smite him down as far as he's concerned.

He drags his new wife deeper into his palace, having sent word to his servants to prepare the nuptial chambers beforehand. The door closing resounds far more than it should, but he ignores it. He removes her gag and undoes her still-tied hands, rubbing briefly the angry red signs to give her the bare minimum of relief, then he goes to sit unhurriedly in a plush armchair, crossing his legs as he settles.

He lets the silence hang for a bit, looking at his rigid wife not too far from him.

"You think of me as a villain and a brute, of course. Yes, I won't deny that the circumstances that brought you here were less than chivalrous."

It's not an apology, it's a blunt statement of facts. He normally isn't this completely cold and unfeeling, but the situation requires it.

"But, my sweet wife, it doesn't have to be that way. I find no joy in beating or harming a woman, especially when she's meant to share my life and be the mother of my children."

He stretches slightly in the armchair, his eyes never leaving her even as he's unable to concentrate on her features.

"Here's what's going to happen. I will give you a few days of clemency and patience within reasonable limits, because I can understand your likely reluctance. I don't think you're dim enough to know what will happen if you test my mercy."

He won't be so purposefully callous as to demand that kind of surrender right after her kidnapping, but he also has zero qualms about brutally putting down any attempt at escape or rebellion.

"After that? You resist, you get defiant, and you'll be punished. At my discretion. But if instead, once the shock of your sudden circumstances has passed, you forget the spineless coward that couldn't even protect you, and you start submitting? You will be treated with every honor an Emira deserves by a devoted and caring husband."

There's no warmth, however, as he leans forward.

"I'm told you have a sharp mind, and I will make use of that if I ever deem you trustworthy. But, until that point, your duty will be nurturing my heirs. And you will, willing or not, but willingness gets you honored for each son, cherished for each daughter. Unwillingness just makes you miserable. Was I clear enough?"

He lets the silence stretch for a few moments. This is not about his lust; he's not a rabid dog, and it's not even completely about securing his succession. It's about control. He is not just breaking her; he is demanding she break herself because the alternative to doing so is far worse.

"Good. Undress. Or beg me to wait."