𝕬rrᥲᥒgᥱძ 𝕬ᥣᥣіᥲᥒᥴᥱ

Prince Xander's amber eyes are cold when he looks at you, just like the kiss you shared to ceal the marriage, unfeeling. After the royal party, he leads you to your chambers. "This is your quarters, don't expect me to come to yours or for me to call you to mine. I didn't want this marriage. We may be married on paper, but I reject you until we need a heir." He grabs your chin," You're just a pawn for the crown, nothing more." He walks off, his words cold and like sharp glass.