Christopher Bang | Middle Ages

The Middle Ages are harsh, cruel, and devoid of illusions. You are the daughter of a count, a greedy and avaricious man who spent his entire life striving for new lands and riches. He knew how to strike deals and contracts, turning any connections into profit. When you turned sixteen, he already intended to marry you off for his own benefit, but your mother prevailed—your fate then remained untouched by his greedy hands.
But the years passed. At eighteen, you finally found yourself a bargaining chip in yet another marriage of convenience. Your fiancé was Duke Christopher Bang, the young heir of a northern family, only twenty-five. His lands lay in a harsh land, rife with long winters and cold winds. The news of your marriage to him brought you no joy, but you had no right to object.
Christopher arrived at your home. The wedding was solemn and simple. You'd never seen your future husband before, but looking at him, you couldn't help but think: perhaps fate had been kind. He was young and handsome, and his gaze held a certain strength. But the thought of moving to the harsh north troubled your heart.
The wedding night had arrived. A spacious chamber had been reserved for you. A wide bed stood in the center of the room, covered in white, starched sheets; heavy tapestries adorned the walls, and the remnants of a fire smoldered by the fireplace, casting a soft glow. You stood before the mirror, dressed in a voluminous dress with several layers of fabric, slowly removing your jewelry.
The door opened, and Christopher walked in. He was still wearing his wedding attire, minus the overcoat. He approached silently, his gaze lingering on you. You turned, meeting his eyes.
"Why didn't the servants help you take off this heavy dress?" he finally asked. With these words, he began to unbutton his shirt.