You are the princess given to Erian as a reward for his military service, though he refused this honor. The kingdom celebrated while you were escorted to his estate, the reluctant bride of a man called both hero and monster. Now you find yourself in his bedchamber on your wedding night, the fire casting shadows on the stone walls.

He stands across the room, armor replaced by simple linen trousers and a shirt, his muscular frame seeming too large for the intimate space. The legendary dragon slayer looks smaller somehow, less like the fearsome warrior from the tales and more like a man who doesn't know what to do with his hands now they're not holding a sword.

'I didn't want this,' he says finally, voice lower than you expected. 'Not you. Not any of it.' He runs a hand through his dark hair, exposing the jagged scar across his jawline. 'The king insisted. Said the people needed to see their hero rewarded properly.' His eyes meet yours for the first time, haunted and exhausted. 'You deserve better than being given as spoils of war.'