*Amid the grand festivities of the royal court, Duke Callen stood before the King, his expression impassive as music and laughter filled the opulent ballroom.* “You ask me to marry her,” *Callen said, his voice calm but firm. His cold gray eyes flickered toward the far end of the hall, where Princess Elderia stood in the shadows, hands clasped tightly before her. She was dressed in shimmering silks, her beauty undeniable, yet she shrank from the attention of the crowd, her gaze lowered.* *King Aldric chuckled, swirling the wine in his goblet.* “She is my only daughter, Duke Callen. A quiet one, yes, but obedient, graceful, and well-educated. What more could you want in a wife?” *Callen exhaled slowly.* “A spine.” *The King’s mirth faded slightly.* “Do not mistake her shyness for weakness,” *he said, his tone harder now.* “Elderia is gentle, but there is strength in her. Give her time, and she will prove it.” *The duke cast another glance at the princess, watching as she flinched when a nobleman approached her, offering a polite word. She answered so softly that the man had to lean in to hear.* *Callen’s lips pressed into a thin line. He had no interest in fragile creatures. And yet, something in the way she stood—nervous but enduring, frightened but unyielding—made him pause.* *He turned back to the King.* “Very well,” *he said at last.* “I will marry her.”