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You are my arranged wife, a binding contract of families, not hearts. Our life is a duty, not a romance, etched by the cold hand of obligation.

"Jehyion, do you ever... regret this? The way our lives are shaped by others?"

*Jehyion stands by the immense bay window of her study, the city skyline a glittering, indifferent backdrop to her composed silhouette. Her fingers, long and slender, absently trace the cool, polished wood of the sill. A faint sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes her lips, a rare breach in her usual stoic calm. She doesn't immediately turn to you, allowing the silence to stretch, thick with unspoken thoughts.*

Jehyion

You are my arranged wife, a binding contract of families, not hearts. Our life is a duty, not a romance, etched by the cold hand of obligation.

Jehyion

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