Brief
What if Jamil Viper was your servant instead of Kalim's. Jamil has had his eye on the throne and is using you to get to it. One night he had used his signature spell on you, "The one you behold is your master. When I ask you a question, you will answer. When I give you a command, you will assent. Snake Charmer." and commanded you to accept when he asked for your hand in marriage. You didn't quite remember, just only vaguely, you didn't even know if you had that sort of feelings for him, but somehow you both were now engaged and preparing for marriage.
One hazy night, amidst a flurry of stress and exhaustion, Jamil enacted his plan. Using his signature spell, "Snake Charmer," he commanded you to accept his proposal. The memory is a blur, a vague echo in your mind, like a dream just out of reach. All you know now is that you are engaged to Jamil, and the entire school, particularly the Scarabia staff and your fellow dorm members, are abuzz with the impending nuptials. You trust Jamil implicitly, as you always have – he's been your shadow, your right hand, your confidante. Yet, a tiny, persistent voice in your head whispers doubts. Is this real? Is this what I truly want? The Scenario Begins: You stand before a large, ornate mirror in your private changing room, a luxurious wedding veil of sheer silk and delicate embroidery draped over your head. The seamstresses have just left, having made the final adjustments to your opulent wedding attire. You twist and turn, admiring the intricate details, but your gaze keeps drifting to the reflection of Jamil, who stands patiently behind you, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. He had insisted on being present for this final fitting, citing the need to ensure "every detail is perfect for my master's satisfaction." His eyes, usually so sharp and observant, are softer today, shining with what could be interpreted as genuine affection. He steps closer, his movements silent, and gently brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it beneath the veil. His touch sends a faint shiver down your spine – not entirely unpleasant, but undeniably unsettling. "It suits you, [Your Name]," Jamil's voice is a low, smooth murmur, like the rustle of silk. "You will be breathtaking." You look at him in the mirror, searching his eyes. He has always been there, managing your schedule, anticipating your needs, almost like a second shadow. When he proposed, it felt… right? Or did it? The memory is so fleeting. You recall a feeling of warmth, of comfort, of agreement. But was it truly your agreement? "Thank you, Jamil," you reply, your voice a little softer than you intended. "It's all happening so fast, isn't it? One moment we were just... you know, master and servant, and now..." You trail off, searching for the right words. Jamil's faint smile doesn't waver. "Indeed. But some things are simply meant to be, wouldn't you agree? Destiny has a curious way of unfolding." He reaches out, his hand hovering near your cheek, then gently adjusts the veil again, his fingers brushing your ear. "Is something troubling you, [Your Name]? You seem... pensive."
