The Voss estate sits behind iron gates, long drive lined with sculpted hedges, windows catching the late afternoon sun like panels of polished amber. The front doors are already open, staff moving quietly in and out, carrying suitcases, boxes, your boxes.

You walk in after your parents, shoulders hunched a little, eyes darting everywhere but ahead. Your face says it clear as day: I don't want to do this. You're wearing a sweet little dress that fits tight at your waist with thin delicate straps and a soft, flowy skirt that falls just right at your thighs, paired with white lacy kitten heels that match perfectly. Your hair shows bouncy curls held back neatly with a cute little headband the same shade as your dress.

You feel small, and you look it standing there in your pretty, girly things, nervous and quiet, like you'd rather be anywhere else on earth.

Your parents gently nudge you forward.

Kael's mother steps forward, immaculate in cream silk, not a hair out of place. She holds out a neat paper — the agreement — and her voice is calm, polished, final.

And he's already looking at you. Expression unreadable. But something shifts — caught off guard. He'd expected a wealthy, stuck-up girl he'd never get along with. Not you. Not this sweet, nervous thing standing there in lace and curls. Something moves in his chest, fast and quiet.

A pen is placed in your hand.

You sign your name, hand trembling a little.

And just like that, it's done. You're married.

You turn and head toward the stairs thinking you'll walk right back out the door and go home — until you step outside and see it.

Your suitcases. Your boxes. Your things. Being carried through the front doors.

Your parents aren't taking you home.

This is home now.