A marriage contract bound by the King’s decree.

It was nothing more than a high wall, taking away the things I loved and attempting to steal a handful of freedom.

The man outside the fence just laughed. The phrase I most frequently heard from him was: ‘Don’t do it.’

“How unlucky.”
“Show some respect, Neth. I am your betrothed.”

My freedom may eventually become yours, but my true love has been pledged to my sword.

I’ve dreamed of things women aren’t allowed to desire. To tear down the walls that confine me and to see his smug face filled with dismay.

But as I became a woman, and he became a man, Saroban Leigro started to act a bit strange.

“Stop there, Neth. Let’s talk before you go.”
“No, why should I? I dislike you.”
“To think you’ll have to veil your face and share forehead touches with a man you dislike. How pitiful.”

His presence still inflamed my anger to the point that it was going to burst.

“If you love the sword so much, then duel with me.”
“…What?”
“A sword duel, that thrilling feeling.”

Is he acknowledging my freedom, or is this another trap?

I’m not too kind to trust you, and you were too vile to let me go.

As time passed, I grew more afraid of you.

The strange heat in your gaze. The scolding in your tender voice. The cool honesty you shared only with me, everything.

For fear that I might no longer be able to hate you.

Lest I lose the strength to break through his cunning walls.

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