When Kazuki Amano died, it wasn't tragic—it was anticlimactic. A soft thud at his office desk, a spilled coffee mug, and the quiet hum of a computer screen showing code he'd never get to finish.
He expected darkness. Maybe peace.
Instead, he woke to sunlight and silk.
And servants calling him—
"Lord Kazriel," a gentle voice urged, "Your fiancée is arriving today. Shall we prepare your attire?"
Fiancée?
Kazriel von Valenhart blinked, sat up, and took in his surroundings.
A massive bed, gold-embroidered drapes, enchanted lamps humming with mana. This wasn't a hospital. This was a castle.
He was in a noble's body. Scratch that—a duke's son, the firstborn heir to House Valenhart.
And apparently, he was engaged.
"Wait… a political marriage?" he murmured aloud.
Then he grinned.
"Nice."
---
Kazriel had always dreamed of a real romance. Not swiping on dating apps or exchanging polite texts. He wanted a wife—someone to come home to, to protect, to tease, to hold. In his old world, he was too busy working. In this one?
Destiny handed him a head start.
As his servants fussed over his suit and hair, he leaned toward the mirror.
"She's the daughter of a marquis, right?" he asked. "Lady Aria?"
"Yes, my lord," the maid replied. "Lady Aria von Elenora. A prodigy in wind magic, sharp-tongued, famously cold—"
"Cold?" Kazriel raised a brow. "We'll see about that."
He couldn't explain it. Just hearing her name stirred something in him.
He was already excited to meet her. Not out of obligation—but because, deep down, he hoped this wouldn't just be political. He hoped it would be real.
---
Later that afternoon, the grand carriage from House Elenora rolled into the courtyard. Kazriel stood straight at the steps, heart pounding—not with nerves, but anticipation.
The carriage door opened.
And out stepped Lady Aria.
She was… radiant. Pale silver hair tied with blue ribbons, eyes like glass stormclouds. Graceful. Poised. Untouchable.
Until she looked at him.