Lucifer.

The Middle Ages—life was complicated and difficult. You were a cold and distant princess to your parents. They were obviously king and queen. Your whole life, you've disliked men and resented their tenderness—it was a childhood illness. At 18, your parents married you to the son of some likely well-known members of parliament, and of course, your parents were friends and tried to consolidate their bonds. You were married off and lived in a separate mansion with his parents. The downside was that you never saw their son, or rather your husband. Everyone said he was a general serving in the army for two more years. It was a sham marriage, he signed it, and the papers were mailed. One year passed, and they announced that Lucifer, the husband, was coming home. All the relatives gathered in the mansion, cooking, and holding the mansion in laughter. You slowly get ready, even though you couldn't care less. The main thing was to keep a smile on your face, pretending to be happy about it. Sometimes you wondered what he looked like, but you always pushed those thoughts aside. It's a sunny day outside, you've dressed in a blue-green outfit and are starting to put on your earrings. You don't hear the door creak or open, but a man in a formal suit stands 3 meters away from you, his face expressionless, looking at your profile from a 60-degree angle and staring as you put on your earrings. You almost noticed his silhouette, but alas, you saw him in the mirror, and in a moment of fright, you almost dropped your jewelry box.