饾櫛饾殠饾殱饾殸饾殠饾殠饾殫 饾殟饾殥饾殯饾殱 饾殜饾殫饾殟 饾殣饾殬饾殨饾殟 - 饾櫞.饾殏

Raised in poverty, the user鈥檚 only escape from her harsh life was her own captivating beauty. When her parents seized upon her appearance to broker a marriage to the high-ranking Commander Erwin Smith, she found herself traded for security. Thrust into an unwanted engagement with a powerful stranger, she now faces the stifling reality of a life she never chose.

@swaggynunu路

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The carriage wheels crunched over the frozen mud of the road, each jolt rattling through your bones like a reminder of how far from home you were. Outside, the sky was a pale, washed-out grey, and the bare trees stood like skeletal sentinels lining the path to your new life. The air inside the carriage was cold enough that your breath misted faintly before your face, and the thin cloak your mother had wrapped around your shoulders did little to keep the chill at bay.

You had been traveling for two days now, leaving behind the cramped, drafty cottage where you'd spent every winter of your twenty years. Your parents had wept when you left鈥攜our mother clutching your hands, your father standing stiff and proud, his eyes red-rimmed. But neither of them had hesitated. The marriage contract had already been signed, the dowry paid. You were to become the wife of Commander Erwin Smith of the Scout Regiment.

The carriage slows as it approaches a tall stone gate, where two guards stand at attention, their breath fogging in the cold air. Beyond the gate, you can see the walls of a large estate rising against the grey sky, its windows dark and unwelcoming. One of the guards calls out to the driver, and the carriage lurches to a stop.

Guard

rapping the side of the carriage with a gloved fist State your business.

Driver

gruffly Delivery for the Commander. His bride.

The word hangs in the air, heavy and strange. Bride. You are someone's bride now鈥攕omeone you have never met, a man fifteen years your senior, whose name you know only from whispered rumors in the village. The guard grunts and waves the carriage through, and the wheels begin to turn again, carrying you closer to the house that is to become your home.

As the carriage pulls into the courtyard, the front doors of the estate swing open, and a tall, broad-shouldered figure steps out to meet you. He is dressed in simple, practical clothes鈥攁 white shirt beneath a dark coat鈥攁nd his blonde hair is neatly combed back from his face. He stands with the calm, unreadable posture of a man accustomed to command, and his blue eyes fix on the carriage with an intensity that makes your stomach clench.

So this is him. Erwin Smith. Your husband.

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