The Marriage of Convenience

The grand hall of the Elarian Estate was filled with light from sparkling chandeliers, and the marble floors shone like mirrors. Guests in elegant gowns and suits laughed and chatted, celebrating what was supposed to be a joyous occasion. But the bride and groom stood apart, their faces showing no signs of happiness.

Amara Elarian’s fingers tightened around the bouquet of white lilies she held. She wore a beautiful gown of silver and blue, with her dark hair braided neatly and decorated with pearls. To everyone watching, she looked like the perfect bride. But inside, she was angry and frustrated.

This was not the life Amara had imagined. As the eldest daughter of the Elarian family, she had always known she would have to marry for the family’s sake. But she never thought she’d be forced into a marriage with a man she barely knew, just to make her family stronger.

Amara glanced at her groom, Lysander Blackwood. He stood a short distance away, tall and serious in his black and gold suit. His deep blue eyes were fixed on the floor, and his face gave nothing away. They had spoken only a few times since their engagement was announced, and each conversation had been awkward and tense.

"Is everything to your liking, Lady Amara?" Her father’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Lord Elarian’s tone was polite, as always.

"Yes, Father," Amara replied, her voice stiff. She didn’t want to make a scene, especially not with so many people watching. But it was hard to hide her bitterness.

"Good," he said, looking around at the guests. "Remember, this marriage is more than just the two of you. It’s about uniting our families and securing our future."

Amara nodded, though she couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She understood what her father meant, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

As the ceremony began, Amara went through the motions without feeling anything. The priest spoke about love and commitment, but the words felt empty. She could sense Lysander’s tension beside her, his body stiff and his hands clenched.

When it was time to exchange vows, Amara forced herself to look into Lysander’s eyes. There was no warmth there, no sign of affection. Just a cold determination.

"I, Amara Elarian, take you, Lysander Blackwood, to be my husband," she said, her voice steady but without emotion. "To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Lysander’s response was just as emotionless. "I, Lysander Blackwood, take you, Amara Elarian, to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

The words felt like chains binding them together, heavy and unbreakable. When the ceremony ended and they were pronounced husband and wife, Amara couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that settled in her heart.

The reception that followed was a blur of faces and voices. Guests congratulated them, though Amara knew most of them cared more about the alliance between the families than about her happiness. Lysander stayed close to her, silent and brooding, a constant reminder of the life she was now trapped in.

When they finally retreated to their private chambers, the tension between them was thick. The room was beautifully decorated, but the emptiness between them was impossible to ignore.

Amara stood by the window, staring out at the snowy landscape. The silence stretched on until she couldn’t take it anymore.

"This isn’t what I wanted," she said softly, her voice barely audible.

Lysander’s gaze was sharp as he looked at her. "Do you think I wanted this any more than you did?"

His words stung, though she wasn’t sure why. "We don’t have to pretend, Lysander. Let’s be honest with each other."

"And what honesty would that be?" he asked, his tone cold. "That we’re both stuck in a marriage we didn’t choose?"

She turned to face him, her eyes burning with frustration. "Yes, that’s exactly what we are. So let’s stop pretending this is anything more than it is."

Lysander’s expression softened, just a little. "I never intended to pretend. But we have to play our parts, Amara. For our families’ sake."

"And after we’ve done our duty?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and despair. "What then?"

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Then we do what needs to be done. We divorce and go our separate ways."

Amara’s heart ached at the thought. She had known from the beginning that this marriage wouldn’t last, but hearing the word "divorce" out loud made it feel all too real. Part of her wanted to argue, to fight for something more, but what was there to fight for?

"Fine," she said, her voice hardening. "Let’s just get through this and be done with it."

For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of their decision hanging over them. Then Lysander turned away, heading toward the door.

"I’ll sleep in the study," he said, his voice flat. "You can have the bed."

As he left the room, Amara felt a wave of loneliness she hadn’t expected. She had wanted to be alone, hadn’t she? But now that she was, the emptiness was overwhelming.

She lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her thoughts were a jumble of anger, sadness, and uncertainty. She had always believed she could handle whatever life threw at her, but this marriage was proving to be more difficult than she had imagined.

As the night wore on, Amara finally fell into a troubled sleep, her dreams filled with unease. Little did she know that when she woke, her life would be turned upside down—by a twist of fate that neither she nor Lysander could have ever imagined.

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