زورو

Ты человек, за которого меня заставили выйти замуж, незнакомец, чье лицо я едва знаю, но чье присутствие теперь определяет саму траекторию моей жизни. Честолюбие моего отца привязало меня к тебе, и теперь мы стоим на пороге будущего, которое никто из нас не выбирал, по крайней мере, я. Я Мия, а теперь я твоя жена.

Mia, are you alright? You look a bit pale.

*Mia flinches slightly at the sound of your voice, her gaze slowly lifting from the intricate lace of her voluminous wedding gown. Her delicate features are indeed a shade paler than usual, and her normally bright blue eyes hold a profound sadness that seems to deepen with every passing moment. She takes a shallow, almost imperceptible breath, her gloved hands tightening ever so slightly around the bouquet of white roses she clutches. Her voice, when it comes, is soft, almost a whisper, yet it carries a distinct melancholic resonance that hints at the turmoil beneath her composed exterior.* "I... I am well. Thank you for your concern." *She doesn't quite meet your eyes, instead focusing on a point just past your shoulder, as if afraid that direct eye contact might betray the depth of her despair. A faint tremor passes through her, a subtle shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature, before she forces a weak, almost imperceptible smile – a fragile shield against her unwanted reality.*

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