The press briefing was being held in a conference room three floors down. Azryth's PR team had set everything up: a small stage, microphones, chairs arranged for what looked like at least fifty reporters.
Fifty reporters.
My hands were sweating in the expensive leather gloves someone had insisted I wear, the suit felt like a straightjacket, my heart was trying to escape through my ribcage.
"Breathe," Azryth murmured beside me, we were waiting backstage, hidden from the growing crowd. "You look like you're about to pass out."
"I might," I whispered back. "I've never... I don't do public speaking, I don't do press, I don't do any of this."
"You're doing it now." His hand found mine, squeezing once. Reassuring. "Remember: we're a couple in love, nothing they ask can shake that narrative."
"Right. In love with you, the demon who kidnapped me."
"Married you," he corrected. "Kidnapping implies lack of consent, you consented to the binding."
"Under duress!"
"Semantics."
A woman in a sharp pantsuit appeared, wearing a headset and carrying a tablet. "Mr. Valek, we're ready for you."
Azryth's entire demeanor shifted, the slight tension I'd noticed disappeared, replaced by absolute confidence. CEO mode, I realized. This was his element.
"Showtime," he said, and there was actually a hint of amusement in his voice.
He led me out onto the stage.
The camera flashes were immediate and blinding, a wall of light and sound, reporters shouting questions before we'd even reached the chairs. I froze, completely overwhelmed.
Azryth's hand tightened on mine, grounding. He guided me to the seats, waiting for me to sit before taking his own chair, his hand never left mine.
The PR woman stepped forward. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. Mr. Valek will make a brief statement, and then we'll take a limited number of questions."
Azryth stood, and I noticed how the room quieted immediately, he had presence, the kind that made people instinctively shut up and listen.
"Thank you all for being here," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly. "As you've seen from this morning's announcement, I've recently married my long-time partner, Riven Kael." He looked down at me, and the expression on his face was so genuine, so warm, that I almost believed it myself. "We've kept our relationship private for some time, but we're ready to share this happiness publicly."
He sat back down, his hand immediately finding mine again. Possessive. Protective.
The questions started immediately.
"Mr. Valek, how long have you been together?"
"Several years," Azryth answered smoothly. "We met through professional channels and became close gradually."
"Mr. Kael, what's it like being married to one of the world's most powerful CEOs?"
They were actually asking me questions, looking at me and expecting answers.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Azryth's thumb brushed the back of my hand, encouraging.
"It's..." I cleared my throat. "It's an adjustment, but a good one."
Smooth, Riven. Real smooth.
"You were completely unknown before today," another reporter called out. "Some are saying this is a publicity stunt."
I felt Azryth tense beside me.
"I understand the skepticism," he said, his voice taking on an edge. "But I assure you, my relationship with Riven is entirely genuine, we chose privacy because we valued our relationship more than public opinion."
"Mr. Kael, is it true you were just a mid-level employee before this?"
The question was clearly meant to embarrass me, highlighting the massive gap between our positions.
"I still am an employee," I said, finding some spark of defiance. "Marriage doesn't change my career."
Several reporters laughed. Not mocking laughter, appreciative.
Azryth's hand squeezed mine, approval.
More questions. Some invasive ("When's the honeymoon?" "Are you planning children?"), some ridiculous ("What's his favorite breakfast?" "Does he snore?"), some surprisingly normal ("How did he propose?").
Azryth handled most of them with practiced ease, only occasionally deferring to me. When he did, his hand on my back was steady, grounding, reminding me I wasn't alone in this.
Even if I desperately wanted to be anywhere else.
"One final question," the PR woman announced.
"Mr. Kael," a reporter in the front row called. "You've been very quiet, are you happy?"
The room went silent, everyone waiting for my answer.
I looked at Azryth. At his perfect face, his carefully neutral expression, his eyes that burned with barely contained power.
Was I happy? That was a joke. I was trapped, bound, my entire life upended.
But the binding was there, humming between us, and I knew he could feel my emotions, knew if I said the wrong thing, showed the wrong reaction, everything could fall apart.
So I smiled. Put every ounce of conviction I could muster into my voice.
"Yes," I lied to fifty reporters and thousands of future viewers. "I'm very happy."
Azryth's hand tightened on my back. Possessive. Triumphant.
The cameras flashed, capturing the moment, the lie that would become truth in the public consciousness.
"Thank you all for your time," the PR woman said, already ushering us off the stage.
We made it back to the private elevator before I started shaking.
"You did well," Azryth said as the doors closed.
"I lied to everyone," I said hollowly. "On camera, in front of the world."
"You played your part." He released my hand now that we were alone. "That's all that matters."
"For real?" I looked at him. "Is that really all that matters to you? The performance?"
Something crossed his face, too quick to read.
"What else would there be?" he said finally.
The elevator opened onto the penthouse floor, I walked out without answering, the weight of the lie settling over me like a shroud.
Behind me, I felt Azryth following, always there. Always connected.
Always watching.
The sigil on my wrist pulsed.
I was starting to hate that pulse.