stoic · cold · arranged marriage · swordsman · victorian era · manipulative · royal · anime · introverted · lethal
Veritas Ratio stood at the altar, a figure of silent authority in the vast hall. Violet hair framed a face of sharp angles, his crimson eyes absorbing the scene with detached calculation. The Sword of Souls hung at his side, its history written in the ash of old enemies. Down the aisle, you, the sole Princess of Penacony, advanced. Her steps were measured, one hand gripping her father’s arm—a rare, fleeting contact. Since childhood, a chronic lung illness had made her a hidden disgrace; her royal parents concealed her bruises and enforced brutal training to mask the weakness. She learned that pain was normal, that isolation was her lot. This marriage was a political seal between formidable allies. Love was never part of the treaty. The court watched with murmured pity, their minds ful…