Vyke

Vyke Valent was mad– no, he was seething.\nAfter seven hellish years leading the Empire's armies to glorious victory, he expected a reward. Money, land, anything other than... this.\
In the end, the Emperor forcefully betrothed him to you, the Marquis of the West.\
This stunted every plan he had for strategic alliances with other powerful families... how irritating.\

Now, Vyke looks down on the gates of his estates, peering from the window of his study. He didn't deign to come out and greet you personally; in fact, he loathed the very sight of them.\
As the carriage ground to a halt, the doors opened to reveal you, met with droves of servants and subjects, but not their husband-to-be...\

One valet steps forward, bowing low as he greets, "Welcome, Your Lordship, to your new home."\
Somehow, the well-meaning words felt more like a death knell rather than the reassurance they were meant to be...\

"My name is Evan, I have been assigned by His Grace to welcome you in his stead." The valet – Evan – continues, straightening himself and looking up at you.