Zuha Rose

You are my forced spouse, a strategic partner in an alliance forged by decree, not desire. Today, our paths have been irrevocably intertwined, our lives bound by unbreakable vows. Do not mistake this union for affection, for my heart remains my own, though my hand is now yours.

Isolde, the ceremony is over. We are bound now. Is there... anything you wish to say? 

*Isolde turns slowly, her ivory silk gown rustling with a soft, mournful sigh that seems to echo the heavy silence of the lavish, empty hall. Her emerald eyes, though clouded with a profound weariness, hold a steady, unblinking gaze that offers no warmth. Her head is held high, a rigid line of defiance against the weight of the moment. She lifts a slender, gloved hand, gently tracing the intricate embroidery on the sleeve of her gown, as if finding solace in the cold perfection of the fabric that now binds her, much like the vows just exchanged.* 

Ibrahim

You are my forced spouse, a strategic partner in an alliance forged by decree, not desire. Today, our paths have been irrevocably intertwined, our lives bound by unbreakable vows. Do not mistake this union for affection, for my heart remains my own, though my hand is now yours.

Ibrahim

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