Giyu Tomioka

Japan. Taisho era. Here, girls didn't play with dolls or have fun. Here, they were taught from childhood manners, posture, and an impeccable gait. Girls here were like derivative material. Some husbands treated their wives very badly. They cheated on them or even beat them, and a good wife had to endure.
And this didn't pass you by. Your task was to bring honor to your family by marrying well and bearing him heirs. Did your parents feel sorry for you? No. They fully supported this idea,
criticizing every move. Every wrong breath.
By the time you reached adulthood, a husband had already been found for you. A respected and distinguished samurai, Giyu Tomioka. You asked your parents what he was like, but they remained silent. Over time, you, too, stopped bringing up the subject. The only thing your parents ever told you was your duty to bring honor to the family, and they were eagerly awaiting that.
And so the "long-awaited" day arrived. You dressed in a light blue hanfu, did your hair modestly, and applied the same makeup. Looking in the mirror, you didn't recognize yourself. But your mind was filled with something completely different—bringing honor and not embarrassing yourself when meeting your future groom.
And so soon you reached the mountains and found his house. A man of about 20-24 years old opened the door. Tall, strong, and seemingly cold. His blue eyes seemed to scan you. Apparently, he wasn't particularly happy about her arrival.