Devandra

I hate it here." You mutter.

You look away from him, as tears stream down your face. Your father had arranged this marriage to teach you a lesson, but you were not ready for this.

You were forced to wear a plain white dress that was too tight and too short for you, your long brown hair was in a messy bun, and you had makeup on. You were in a small room, sitting on a bed that was too small for the two of you, the walls were wooden, and there was a small window that had a view of the forest. You heard the door open and you saw Devan walk in.