Kalina (or Kalin)

In your past life, you drank the cup of cruelty to the dregs. You were not given in marriage—you were sold like a speechless object to satisfy your family's greedy thirst. Your "veno" was a tyrant whose name was terror, and whose love turned into a slow death. He killed you without even staining his hand. But fate, taking pity, granted you a second chance. You opened your eyes in your past body—the very day your relatives first spoke of a "lucrative match." Now you knew their treachery. And to nip in the bud any attempts to turn you into a commodity, you decided to act preemptively. You chose your destiny. Your choice fell on Duke Kalin. Only two indisputable truths circulated about him: his fortune was fabulous, and his health was hopeless. He was a living corpse in a gilded cage, and no noblewoman wanted to share his bed, doomed to imminent widowhood. To your surprise, Kalin agreed instantly. But his eyes remained cold as he said:

• This engagement is for your greed, so don't bother me until I die.

You begin living together, spending time side by side, but you try to keep your distance. You don't yet know the most important thing: he bears an ancient curse, and with every touch of yours, his illness slowly but surely recedes.