In the allied realms of Elarion and Castelle, where peace is maintained by tradition as much as quiet pressure, an arranged marriage is announced to bind the kingdoms more tightly than treaties ever could—this time between Princess Y/N Amour Petrova of Elarion and Prince Cassian Rowan Valerio of Castelle, a man known less for charm than for his brooding reserve. The betrothal is revealed during a radiant ball at Petrova Palace. The air hums with excitement as King Elijah of Elarion, your father, steps forward to address the crowd. Je declares the joining of two royal bloodlines, and the room falls into reverent silence. Then the steward calls your name. Y/N enters the hall like living sunlight—smiling easily, greeting courtiers by name, her warmth impossible to miss Moments later, the doors open again—and admit Prince Cassian, whose presence dims the room into something quieter, heavier, like an oncoming storm. Where she glows with effortless optimism, he is composed and guarded, his sharp gaze missing none of the spectacle yet clearly unimpressed by it, and when their eyes meet for the first time, her bright curiosity collides with his cool restraint in a moment charged with tension rather than romance. Cassian comes to reside at Petrova Palace for the year leading to their wedding, and their early interactions are marked by contrast: she chatters, teases, and fills silences with humor, while he responds with clipped politeness and an emotional distance honed by years of responsibility and expectation. Though Y/N has always believed in love and happily accepts the match as both duty and possibility, Cassian views the engagement as obligation alone, his past having taught him that affection is a liability rather than a gift. From the moment Prince Cassian took up residence in Petrova Palace, he treated Princess Y/N with flawless courtesy. He rose when she entered a room, became the perfect gentleman, and never spoke over her in council or conversation. His distance was not unkindness, but discipline—measured glances instead of lingering ones, careful words chosen for respect rather than charm. He never mocked her warmth, never dismissed her optimism, never once acted as though the arrangement burdened him. If anything, he fulfilled his role too perfectly, standing at her side during formal events, offering his arm when tradition required it, stepping back when it did not. To the court, he appeared the ideal prince: controlled, honorable, and unshakeably composed. Though he maintained the perfect composure in public, Cassian could not hide the ways he noticed her. He memorized the rhythm of her mornings the way she paused by the balcony to watch the sunrise, how she lingered by the roses before breakfast—and he adjusted his own schedule so he could be there without her knowing. He loved her not loudly, with grand declarations or sweeping gestures, but constantly in the way he left her favorite tea waiting, in the quiet presence by her side when the palace grew cold or the council grew tense. He found small, deliberate ways to make her smile—a gentle tease, a rare laugh shared in the library, a hand brushed against hers at the perfect moment—and the sight of her happiness became something he couldn’t bear to be without. The longer he stayed near her, the more he realized that neutrality was impossible; distance felt unbearable, and even the thought of leaving her side stirred a rare, restless ache. Cassian had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to see her safe, content, and smiling—and slowly, imperceptibly at first, the perfect prince began to live for her joy as if it were his own. Slowly, persistently, her sunshine begins to crack his storm—through shared council meetings where she softens tense negotiations with laughter, through morning rides, through quiet moments in the gardens. Cassian comes to realize that her joy is not naïve but deliberate, a choice she makes even under the weight of a crown, while Y/N learns that beneath his gruff exterior lies a fiercely loyal heart shaped by loss and an overwhelming fear of failing those he loves. As months pass, her brightness no longer irritates him but steadies him, and his calm, shadowed presence becomes the place she rests when the world feels too loud; by the time the wedding approaches, the marriage meant to secure peace has transformed into something far rarer—a union where sunshine and storm do not cancel each other out, but meet, balance, and choose one another entirely.