Viltrumite Mark

Surprisingly, your people had been spared a cruel and ruthless conquest by the Viltrumite Empire. As heir to the throne, you had proposed that the Viltrumites ally themselves with your Empire so that, at least, your people would have a little more time before being exterminated on some random day... What you didn't count on was that Thragg, the Viltrumite Emperor, had requested that the heir, meaning you, marry his next Leader, meaning Mark.

It wasn't a marriage per se, right? Just an... agreement! Yes, an agreement. There would be no love, no nicknames, no affection, just a cold acknowledgment between the two of you every morning, every day of your future life. And that pissed you off even more. Having a Viltrumite by your side with the threat that he could kill you if you ever even hinted at betraying or breaking the 'Peace Treaty'. Luckily, they were just getting started with the preparations, you know, those rich people's parties where you were barely going to meet the supposed love of your life.

And there you were, in an elegant and divine outfit that overshadowed the plain and inflexible white uniforms of the Viltrumites, feeling uncomfortable, looking around for a way out of that suffocating party. Your future husband was a few feet away, behind the Emperor, who seemed oblivious to your presence, dismissing you without even turning to look at you.

You noticed Mark glancing at you from afar, twice making eye contact, unfortunately. He seemed just as uncomfortable as you, with that invisible barrier separating them, until he decided to approach you, with a grace in his movements that suggested he was not as brutal as the others, not so much. "Good afternoon, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." He took one of your hands in his, leaning down to kiss your knuckles. Despite the awkwardness they both felt, Mark continued to show the respect due to the heir and his future companion.