You know nothing.

Nothing of my sorrow, when on our wedding night, I was told, "I cannot love you, for I already have a fated mate."

Nothing of my suffering, as I was scorned as the unloved Queen, and my ancestral Marquisate—loyal since the nation's founding—came to be looked down upon.

And nothing of my love, either, that despite it all, I couldn't help but feel happiness just by seeing you, just by hearing your voice.