London, England 1880
The rain was heavy and cold, the chilly air that entered through the window numbing but not entirely unwelcome in the quaint room. He had asked for one of the smaller guest rooms, finding the space less empty than the bigger ones that were usually used by noble guests. As a noble himself, it earned him odd looks from the Reiss family as he never had made a suggestion for a different room before, much less a smaller one.
The room was cozy, the wallpaper a shade of blue that blended well with the dark, cherry wood furniture. The bed, a modest size, took up most of the space in the room, the headboard holding simple yet elegant carvings while the mattress was soft with two feathered filled pillows lying neatly against the head. The duvet was black with gold designs that vaguely resembled flowers, the comforter matching with its plain midnight black cloth. The rest of the room was taken up by a single dresser that rested in a corner, the nightstand that was beside the bed and held a candelabrum, and a small fireplace with elaborate carvings that he knew he would never appreciate properly. It was simple, but what he liked the most in this room was the window that overlooked the busy city known as London.
No matter how many times he visited the city, he never tired of watching the people. The men in their suits that surely cost a fortune, the women in their colorful dresses and the children playing in the market place was something he would always love watching. His eyes roamed the street down below once more, the rain washing out the civilians off the streets and into their homes, disappointment settling in his stomach.
A sudden knock disturbed him from his daze and he debated whether to allow the person to disturb his tranquil state of mind.
"Eren?" The voice was feminine and quiet, very closer to a whisper, as it called out to him. The hinges on the door squeaked quietly as it was opened and a head of blond hair peeked into the room shyly. Large blue eyes, similar to the afternoon sky, blinking back tears of anxiousness and perhaps embarrassment at opening his door so boldly. Of course he would have rather she wait until he allowed her to come in, but he didn't mind.
"Historia, nice to see you, what brings you here?" Eren knew that was a rather stupid thing to ask, his fiancée really liked spending time with him and didn't really need a reason to be around him. However, as beautiful as the girl before him was, he felt no physical attraction towards her. She was rather beautiful, glossy blond hair that was as soft as it looked, reaching mid-back and smelled of lavender. Her complexion was pale as most of the English were and she was rather petite, limbs slim and graceful. Her eyes were big, much like his, and round, her pink lips naturally setting into a pout that complemented her heart shaped face.
Eren could agree that she was beautiful but as always, he couldn't find it in himself to become attracted to her, despite knowing her since he was in diapers. They had grown up together and he viewed her more as family, a sister, than a wife. Historia, however, didn't seem to mind all that much, she was content with having a familial bond but wouldn't mind having something more either. Rather, she was okay no matter the situation. Eren often wondered how she could put up with him and his temper, something he inherited from his mother. He had a rather short fuse that often drew others away from him, especially when he was angry.
"—and they believed it was best to hold the ceremony in Japan." Eren snapped his attention back to her voice, realizing that his head was somewhere else and he had not been paying Historia no mind, a rather rude thing to do, even for him.
"I'm very sorry, would you repeat that princess?" The nickname brought a blush to the girl's face as she stammered to repeat herself. The term was used ever since they were kids, when they use to play in the gardens of the Reiss estate. It was a game that held monsters that ate humans and he was a soldier that would protect the princess, Historia, at any cost. Eren had no idea how he came up with such a thing but the name had stuck afterwards and would often be used as a pet name for his fiancée.
"Everyone thought it would be unfair to have the ceremony in their respective country so they believed it was best to have it in Japan, since our families both have Japanese roots." Historia repeated, her voice lacking her normal volume but held no stutter.
While the majority of Eren's family was German, having Middle Eastern roots as well, his mother was half Japanese. Historia's family was the same, excluding the German, and while being English, her grandmother was Japanese. Their families had traveled to Japan once, when Eren and Hisotria were very young, during the spring, when the cherry blossoms were in bloom. To say it was beautiful was an understatement, the petals had been so vibrant and soft, like silk, as they danced with the wind. The smell was glorious, a fresh scent that was bitter-sweet and floral. If Eren was honest, if he had liked Historia in such a way, it would have been a wonderful place for a wedding.
Sometimes, when he laid in bed with the moon high in the sky, he thought about his future. After he had married Historia, what then? His father has already chosen him as his successor for the chain of hospitals he owns, there was no problem there. He could afford to build manor if Historia wanted to move, money wasn't a problem. But what about family? Of course the woman would want kids but how was Eren going to do that? The very idea of being intimate with her sent a bolt of disgust through his body. He doubted he could ever be aroused by her, never mind impregnating her.
But, with a smile, he agreed to the idea of having their wedding in Japan, despite the growing turmoil in his mind. He could continue this façade, he could. He had too.
With a smile, Historia quickly excused herself, reminding him that dinner would be ready soon, and as quietly as she came, she was out. Eren finally allowed himself to relax and sink back into the thoughts of his mind, looking at the empty streets down below from the window. The rain had washed out every civilian and that feeling of disappointment crawled up its way into his stomach once more.