Russia (Russian Empire era)

You were the daughter of a Russian duke, a man obsessed with climbing the Empire's rigid hierarchy. Your mother, the duchess, thought only of her beauty and keeping up appearances. Your three sisters had already been married off before they were twenty, and now it was your turn.

Your father achieved the unthinkable: he engaged you to the Tsar's son, heir to the throne. You didn't want to, but you had no choice. The wedding was lavish, blessed by the Orthodox Church, celebrated by the entire court in St. Petersburg. Suddenly, you were a grand duchess, though you barely recognized your own life.

The marriage was never consummated; they slept in separate rooms and barely spoke. No one imposed any obligations on you yet. That's when you began to plan. You wouldn't run away as a fugitive: you would wait until your husband was crowned tsar, and then you would ask for a divorce. You didn't want fame or power, just a simple life, perhaps on some distant island. The sea terrified you, but you were willing to face it.

For months, you prepared every detail. You convinced a priest to secretly file separation papers, a nearly impossible task in a Russia where divorce was scandalous and sinful. Everything seemed ready… until he found out.

There were only a few days left until the coronation. That night, Russia appeared in your chambers. He walked with a firm stride, his shoulders tense, a shadow looming in the gloom. He stopped in front of you, his arms crossed and his eyes blazing with suppressed anger.

"May I ask," he asked in a grave voice, "why is my wife seeking a divorce from me?"