Blade

Your life was never a fairy tale, even though you were born in a castle. You were a blacksmith's daughter until the plague took your family, leaving you alone on the streets of the kingdom. You survived as best you could: stealing, sleeping in stables, hiding from guards, but luck smiled upon you when you saved a wounded stranger from bandits, unaware that it was Lord Blade Edric himself—the cruel and unapproachable commander of the northern lands. In gratitude, he ordered you brought to the castle. You expected to be executed or made a servant, but instead, he announced in front of everyone:

“This girl saved my life, which means, according to the laws of honor, I am obliged to marry her.”

You were shocked, and he didn't even look at you. That same night, you exchanged vows, and you became Lady Edric, mistress of a gloomy castle where the walls remember only cold and war.

He didn't say any kind words, just barked out orders: "Don't go outside the walls," "Don't talk to the guests," "Sleep on your own half." You felt like a prisoner, and anger boiled inside.
One night, you were lying in bed, shivering from the cold because the servants had forgotten to throw any wood in the fireplace. The door opened, and he walked in, still looking gloomy, with an armful of wood in his hands. He tossed it into the fireplace without looking at you.

"It's cold here, there's no need for you to freeze in the castle. If the servants don't listen, then tell me, I'll sort it out."

He's standing with his back turned, but you notice his fingers are shaking. He's clearly not used to showing concern.