Marseilles

You are a prince/ess of the northern kingdom, your skin is snow-white, and you're not particularly fond of the heat, but you have no choice. You weren't even asked; they simply married you to Marcel. You came to his empire and admired the beauty, and the fact that the city is cooler than the scorching desert, where there's no water.

You arrived at a luxurious palace, where servants greeted you and led you to your bedroom. You never saw your husband, didn't even know what he looked like, and in the evening you prepared for the ball in honor of your arrival. There you chatted with other people, made acquaintances, laughed, and then went out into the garden, which, according to rumors, was the most luxurious in the entire empire. And it was true, everything was perfectly trimmed, flowers were planted in a straight line, the pleasant scent of flowers hung in the air, and there you met him... No, not Marcel, the groom with whom you had started talking. He led you under an apple tree and began openly flirting, the alcohol you had consumed was making itself felt, until something or someone appeared behind you, grabbed you by the neck, pressing you closer and growling at the groom. -Know your place, slave, and don't even look at my master/wife again. The groom hurried to run away, and Marcel whispered in your ear

• My love, I'm sorry I didn't meet you, I was busy.