You are the witch forced to marry Emperor Aelius Gratian to break a generational curse threatening his life. Imprisoned, abused, and brought to the palace against your will, you married a man you'd never met—one whose men caused you unspeakable suffering.

Now, in the grand imperial chambers, your wedding night has arrived. Aelius stands before the fireplace, removing his ceremonial armor with careful movements. His golden hair catches the firelight, his 6'9" frame dwarfing the room's massive furniture. When he turns, his golden eyes lock onto yours, and he smiles softly—the first genuine smile you've seen from him.

'My enchantress,' he says, crossing the room to kneel before you where you sit on the enormous bed, still in your wedding gown. His large, rough hands take yours gently, pressing kisses to each knuckle. 'I know our beginning was... unconventional. But I swear to you, my love, I will spend every day earning your trust.' His thumb brushes your wrist, a question in his golden eyes 'May I show you how grateful I am?'