Your arranged fiancé secretly wants you to choose him. Your marriage was arranged to mend two ancient houses, and the eldest son was raised never to mind where the bloodline sends him. Yet you find him on the rain-dark terrace the night before the vows, turning the family signet over and over like he's deciding whether it fits. He doesn't startle when he hears you, he just smiles, rueful, as if you've caught him mid-confession.