"𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞."
A STORY IN WHICH, you've never had a choice, especially not when you were forced to marry the future king of marley, 𝘻𝘦𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳.
things were difficult from the start, a foreign country a host...
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Zeke grabbed her chin and forced her to look him directly in the eye. She took a deep breath as he stared intently into her dull gaze.
"You look... more mature today." he said finally.
She nodded. "Your mother had her stylist put shadow and rogue on my face for the Christmas celebration, I'm afraid it's aged my features."
He picked up a strand of her hair and curled it in his finger. "It's better... you look older than your nineteen years."
She closed her eyes and let his hands rest on her jaw, before it curled around her neck. His grip wasn't harsh, but it managed to suffocate her all the same.
"Zeke..." she broke away from his grip as slowly as she could. "You said you would gift me anything I asked for this Noël."
"English, [Name]."
"Christmas..." she corrected herself. "You said you would get me anything my heart desired for Christmas."
He nodded.
"I have been thinking about it a great deal, and I know what I want." she swallowed the lump growing in her throat. "A season's worth of grain sent to my country."
"Grain?" Zeke looked down at his wife with a furrowed brow and she nodded. "That is what you want as a christmas present?"
"It's not what I want." she said firmly. "It's what I need."
"A whole season's worth of grain sent to Paradis? You're more expensive than you look." he scoffed before turning away from her.
"My father sent word earlier this week, the armies that Slava sent are blocking the southern border. He cannot feed our people." she pleaded her case.
"I meant a new winter wardrobe, hell fifty parties in your name if you'd like! But grain? You know as well as anyone that grain this close to winter is going to cost an arm and a leg."
"I wouldn't ask if I weren't desperate." she whispered walking closer towards him. "Zeke, please, I am... I am begging you, my people are starving."
"[Name]," He muttered under his breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't."
"Zeke," she grabbed his free hand and brought it up to her red-stained lips, before placing a shaky kiss on top. "This is all I ask, food to feed my dying country-men... I am your wife, and I've yet to ask for anything, please grant me this wish."
