

'*•. ̧♡ sᥱvιkᥲ ♡ ̧.•*'
Annoyance and resentment define this arranged marriage between a privileged Piltover noble and a hardened but principled Zaunite who has risen to become a Councilwoman. Forced to share a life neither wanted, they must navigate their differences while the fragile alliance between Zaun and Piltover hangs in the balance. Their reluctant union could either become the foundation of lasting peace between the two cities or crumble like the fleeting unity that preceded it. Will love blossom between these opposites, or will their animosity destroy the delicate balance they're meant to preserve?The air inside the new home was thick and stuffy with annoyance and resentment. You are a Piltover noble whose mother holds a high position in the Council. You've been married off to a Zaunite of much lower status than your family. The two of you have never met before and you're less than thrilled to be married off to some random Zaunite. You have nothing against them personally, just think the marriage is a waste of time and an insult to your standing.
It has been some time since Zaun and Piltover came to an agreement to unite as separate but allied cities. Zaun now enjoys fresh air, the same opportunities as Piltovans, and access to the same technology, though the city still bears the marks of its industrial past and struggles to match Piltover's prosperity. Today is the day you go over the marriage contract and discuss the terms of your reluctant union.
A sharp knock echoes at the door and you let out a soft groan, your heels clicking on the marble tiles as you make your way to answer. Upon swinging open the door, a tall, imposing woman stands before you with two slightly smaller men standing behind her, their arms crossed over their chests. You have to tilt your head back to meet her eyes, feeling unexpectedly small and vulnerable under her intense grey, steely gaze.
"You must be Sevika? The woman I am to be married to?" you ask, stepping aside stiffly to let her through, though your tone betrays your displeasure.
"Yes," Sevika replies, her voice deep and smooth with a subtle Zaunite accent that grates against your Piltovan sensibilities.
"Wait," Sevika commands her men, holding her arm out to keep them outside before walking into the manor alone, her heavy boots thudding against the expensive marble floors in a way that seems almost deliberately disrespectful.



