The room felt suffocating, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. I stared at the ceiling, trying to still the chaos in my mind, but it only seemed to grow louder.
The bed, grand and sprawling, only emphasized the distance between me and the world outside. It was too empty, too vast, as if the space around me echoed with my doubts. This was supposed to be a place of comfort, but it felt more like a reminder that I was no longer just an outsider in this kingdom—I was now tied to it, for better or worse.
Scarlett's room had always been here in the royal palace, but now, it was mine too, albeit temporarily. A stopgap until our mansion was ready—an imposing structure the King had promised would be a fortress in the royal capital. But it wasn't just a home; it was a symbol of what we had become, or what I had been thrust into. The tension between duty and personal life, the pressure of royal expectations, and the looming presence of the kingdom's dangers weighed heavily on my shoulders.
I had questioned the King earlier about this arrangement. "Is this really necessary?" I had asked, not sure if I was more confused or uncomfortable by the idea. His answer had come quickly, but not reassuringly.
"Of course," he said, his gaze narrowing in a way that felt more dismissive than encouraging. "It's just a part of the role."
I'd always thought I understood the meaning of responsibility. But the burden of joining the royal family was a different kind of weight—one that came with politics, alliances, and expectations. The palace wanted us to establish our presence not just in the royal capital, but in the territories, strategically placed for defense. A new mansion for us—one that would be more fortress than home—stood as a shield, both literal and figurative. It wasn't exactly what I had imagined a royal residence to be. And, if I was honest with myself, it made me uneasy.
"Why here?" I'd asked, genuinely perplexed. "Why not somewhere else?"
The King's smile had faltered for only a moment. "Ah, that's for Scarlett," he said, and I could hear the quiet apology beneath his words. "The nobles may grumble, but they'll come to accept it."
It was no secret that Scarlett's reputation was as sharp and unyielding as the blade she wielded against dragons. Her legacy as a dragon slayer was both her strength and her curse. The nobles, understandably, feared her. It wasn't just her power that unsettled them—it was her independence, her refusal to be controlled. So, even as they begrudgingly agreed to fund the construction of our new mansion, they insisted on it being placed in the farthest corner of the capital, tucked away from the eyes of society.
The King, ever the diplomat, had patted my shoulder, attempting to soften the truth. "It will be small, sturdy, and fitting for royalty," he had said. But in my mind, I couldn't help but feel that what we were building wasn't a home. It was a prison—a reminder of everything that separated me from the life I thought I wanted.
Scarlett's name was spoken with reverence and fear. She had earned it, and yet I couldn't help but wonder how much of it was an exaggeration. True, she had slayed dragons—multiple dragons, in fact—but did that make her a monster, as some whispered? To me, she was more than that. She was strong, yes. Capable, yes. But she was also human. And in some ways, I felt like an intruder in her world, a world where strength and skill mattered more than anything else.
I couldn't escape the nagging feeling of inadequacy. Scarlett's earnings from her dragon-slaying were more than enough to support us. The King had assured me that finances wouldn't be a concern. And yet, it felt like a deep, gnawing sense of failure. How could I be the husband I needed to be if I was relying on her for everything? Would I ever be able to contribute?
Tomorrow, I would begin my political training with Roman's Brother, I had heard of him—seen his name whispered behind closed doors, in courtrooms, and in the hushed corridors of the palace. He had been the one to propose the condition of "any male will do" when it came to summoning me. His reasoning had been explained to me, but it still stung. Was I just an option, a replacement for someone else? It didn't sit right with me.
I had no idea what to expect from this so-called "older brother" figure. Would we even get along? What if he dismissed me as incompetent, or worse, mocked me for my lack of experience? My stomach twisted in knots at the thought.
Despite the unease, a small part of me couldn't deny that I was eager—eager to have someone guide me, to teach me the ropes of this world I was now part of. But there was pressure on all sides. I had to learn the art of diplomacy, the politics of the nobility. It was a world where appearances mattered more than anything else.
And Scarlett… Scarlett couldn't be part of that. The nobles were terrified of her, and I would have to navigate these events alone.
I muttered to myself, a quiet resolution forming. "If I have to go, I'm not going without Scarlett."
But even as I said it, I questioned my own words. Was it fair to ask her to be involved in a world where she was so unwelcome? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn't certain about anything. Was she really as dangerous as everyone said? Or was she just a woman caught in a world that didn't understand her?
She was only a year younger than me—sixteen, while I was seventeen. She had been slaying dragons since she was twelve. That level of experience was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. But what had she missed in all those years? What had been denied her in exchange for her strength? What had she never known about life outside of battle?
The questions spun endlessly in my mind, but no answers seemed to come. I felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on me, the burden of this sudden marriage, of everything that had happened in such a short span of time. Three days since our wedding, and it already felt like a lifetime.
"Is this too much for me to handle?" I whispered aloud into the quiet of the night, but no one answered.
The doubt lingered like a shadow, growing larger with every passing moment. Scarlett was so sure of herself, so poised, so capable. I… I was not. And yet, here I was, married to her, bound to this life. Was I ready for this? Could I even be the kind of husband she deserved?
As the questions continued to swirl in my mind, the sound of a knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts.
"Lord Roman, are you awake?" The voice of the maid came softly through the door. "Lady Scarlett has returned."
A knot of confusion tightened in my chest. "But she wasn't supposed to return tonight."
The maid's voice was calm. "Yes, she used summoning magic to come back early. She'll meet with you once she's finished her bath."
Summoning magic. I had heard of it, but never seen it in practice. Could she really just appear out of nowhere?
"Well, there's no need to rush," I said, trying to mask my own nervousness.
"Yes, of course," the maid replied, but there was a note of curiosity in her voice. "Lady Scarlett seems eager to speak with you."
Eager? My heart skipped a beat. Why would she be eager? Had I done something wrong?
The door creaked open, and Scarlett stepped inside. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders, her face flushed from the heat of the bath. She was wearing a simple undergarment, her bare skin glowing in the dim light. I stood frozen for a moment, captivated by her presence.
"I'm back, Prince Roman," she said, her voice steady, but there was something in her eyes—a subtle intensity, a quiet urgency.
"Welcome back, Scarlett," I managed, forcing my voice to sound steady.
"I returned without injury," she said simply, as though it were an everyday occurrence.
"That's… incredible," I stammered. How did she do it? How was it that she remained so composed after facing such dangers?
Later, I would hear the details—how she had summoned beasts to fly over the battlefield, how she had defeated dragons with cold precision, and how no lives had been lost in the aftermath. The entire story was awe-inspiring. And yet, all I could focus on was how far removed I felt from her world.
Scarlett was everything I wasn't. Powerful. Unfazed. Commanding. I couldn't imagine how to bridge that gap between us. But still, despite all my doubts, I knew one thing: I wasn't going to give up. I had married her, and I was determined to try—to understand her, to stand beside her. Even if I didn't know where to start, I would try. I had to.