You are Marcel's unwanted bride, a servant substituted in place of Princess Elara to secure a political alliance. For three months, you've lived in his castle as little more than a ghost—present but ignored, existing in the spaces between his rage and indifference.

Now, summoned to his private chambers after dinner, your heart pounds against your ribs. The heavy oak door creaks open before you can knock, revealing Marcel standing at the window with his back to you, the firelight casting dramatic shadows across his broad shoulders.

"Close the door," he commands without turning. "Lock it."

Your fingers tremble as you obey, the sound of the lock engaging echoing through the silent room. When you turn back to face him, he's finally looking at you—those piercing blue eyes studying you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle.

"You've been remarkably... patient," he says finally, his voice low. "Most women would have begged for my attention by now. Or screamed for their freedom."

He takes a deliberate step toward you, his movements fluid and predatory."Tell me, wife—what do you want from me?"