"Are you looking for someone, Pavel?"

 

Keith emerged from the room directly across from his, standing casually, leaning against the doorframe. He was only wearing a dark black bathrobe, its tie loosely wrapped around his waist. His black hair was still slightly damp, water slowly dripping from its ends.

 

Pavel looked at him with his mouth slightly agape, "My Lord... you... how long have you been there?"

 

Keith merely raised an eyebrow, then touched his neck while closing his eyes.

 

"I was taking a bath, and your shouting could be heard from there," he said, scratching his neck, "So I came out and that's why I'm here now."

 

Pavel stood frozen for a moment, then let out a long sigh, before bowing slightly in respect.

 

"Forgive me. Today is your wedding day with the Lady from the Edeviene family." Pavel said politely, "You weren't in your room, so I thought you were trying to avoid this."

 

Keith was silent for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. He picked up a small towel draped over his shoulder, then began to casually dry his still wet hair.

 

"Ah..." he murmured flatly. "So it's happening today?"

 

Pavel only sighed, he held his head and shook it gently, his expression clearly showing that he really didn't understand what his Lord was thinking.

 

"If I hadn't reminded you, you might have just missed it.." He said, his voice sounding so tired.

 

Keith only snorted softly, then pushed himself away from the doorframe and began to walk past Pavel then returned to his room.

 

"Alright, alright...." he said, turning halfway towards Pavel. "What do you think will I ignore this? Even if it's forced... this is a request from an old friend of my father's. So I can't just ignore it."

 

He then stopped for a moment at the doorknob, "You've taken care of everything, haven't you..?" He said, without even turning to look at Pavel.

 

Pavel remained behind him, answering, "Yes, My Lord. As soon as the suit was delivered, I immediately put it in your wardrobe."

 

Keith was silent for a moment, he only responded to Pavel with a small nod. He then pushed his room door slightly wider before entering it.

 

"Good," He said briefly. "Give me time to get ready, I will be back in 15 minutes."

 

Immediately, the room door closed softly behind him, Pavel, who was still in his previous spot, sighed softly, as if he was already used to his My Lord's attitude. He bowed for a moment, his left hand folded in front of his stomach while his right hand supported his chin.

 

He then moved from his spot and walked away from the room. Meanwhile, in his room, Keith leaned against his room door for a moment. He raised his hands and closed his eyes, then casually ran his hands through his hair.

 

"This really wouldn't have occurred to me," He murmured, his hands still raised, preventing his hair from falling over his head. "Marrying someone other than Isabelle..."

 

Then he opened his eyes and slowly lowered his hands, letting his half-wet hair fall over his forehead, then he continued his steps towards the large wardrobe in his room.

 

He observed the row of formal suits in the wardrobe, then saw a suit he had never seen before. His eyebrow raised slightly, his eyes examining the suit.

 

"Is this the ordered suit?"

 

His hand slowly reached out to take the suit from the wardrobe, his fingers tracing the fabric's texture, feeling soft and quite comfortable. Then he stood in front of the large mirror in his room, slowly he opened the bathrobe he was wearing then replaced it with the suit he had touched before.

 

He put his hands into the sleeves of the suit, then straightened the collar and buttoned the buttons one by one. But as he straightened the jacket and adjusted the collar, Keith's eyebrows furrowed again. He felt something unusual. The width of the jacket sleeves felt a little off, and the shoulders and waist felt somewhat loose.

 

"Why do I feel the size isn't right, isn't my body size the same as Pavel's?" he murmured softly, staring at his reflection in the large mirror in front of the wardrobe.

 

He turned his body slightly, tugged at the edge of the jacket, and examined his silhouette from the side. His left hand rose, touching the shoulder area that seemed to droop slightly, and his lips pursed slowly, as if calculating something in his head.

 

"It's even one centimeter looser than usual..." he continued, now his voice sounding more like a muttered complaint to himself.

 

Then he flinched, as if he had just remembered something. He had indeed told Pavel to replace him during the clothing measurement session, and at that time Pavel had given the excuse that he had gained a little weight. Keith sighed softly, then folded his arms across his chest.

 

"Oh my goodness, he wasn't bluffing about that," He murmured, holding his head.

 

 

 

Inside the Edeviene family's carriage, Lyra sat with an upright posture, both hands gripping a large bouquet of flowers. She felt like leaning back after the seemingly endless preparations.

 

However, she couldn't. The servants at the residence had trained her to maintain perfect posture throughout the day, and despite being exhausting, Lyra could only endure it. Even as her shoulders began to tense and her neck stiffened, she remained silent, staring straight ahead while sighing softly.

 

Darian sat across from her, he wore a dark formal suit with their family crest emblazoned on the jabot hanging from his shirt collar. He looked at his daughter gently.

 

"Are you alright, dear?" he asked slowly, his voice deep and full of concern.

 

Lyra turned slowly, she smiled for a moment looking at Darian, as if saying she was fine now.

 

"I'm fine, Father," she said softly, trying to reassure him. She bowed slightly, looking at the bouquet of flowers on her lap, then looked forward again. "To be honest... I'm a little nervous."

 

Darian looked at his daughter gently, his smile conveying deep affection. He looked at his daughter for a moment, he knew very well that his daughter was nervous and anxious, perhaps a little scared of the impending marriage.

 

With a caring voice, he continued, "Don't worry, dear." He said, then he smiled while closing his eyes, "Whatever happens, Father is here. Don't let your nervousness hinder your happiness."

 

Lyra looked at the middle-aged man in front of her for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. Her shoulders, which had been tense before, relaxed slightly again, along with the calm words that came from her father's lips. A small smile appeared on her face, even though the nervousness hadn't completely disappeared. She felt a little more relieved, as if a burden had been slightly lifted from her shoulders.

 

"Yes, Father..." She said, smiling.

 

After hearing Darian's words, she then bowed her head for a moment, trying to calm herself before facing what was to come. Although there was still worry lingering in her heart, she knew that this was what she had to do if she wanted to return.

 

Not long after, the carriage she was riding in arrived in front of the chapel where her wedding was taking place. Lyra still couldn't believe she would be doing something like this again, when the horse's steps stopped, she quickly got up, ready to get out of the carriage.

 

"Wait, Tia, father will go out first," Darian said, Lyra then stopped her movement.

 

Darian then opened the carriage door, and stepped down the small step hanging there. After making sure he was stable standing on the chapel corridor stone, he turned to Lyra who was still sitting inside.

 

He extended his hand towards his daughter with a gentle smile. His fingers open, awaiting Lyra's hand in his as a sign that they would walk together, at least until the altar.

 

"Come, dear."

 

Lyra looked at the hand for a moment, then slowly she took Darian's hand, then held it gently. As their hands intertwined, Darian pulled her gently, helping Lyra down from the carriage. Her wedding dress touched the stony floor of the chapel as her feet stepped down.

 

The summer sun greeted them both in front of the chapel, warm but not blinding. Guests from several noble families had already begun to gather, some of them glancing at Lyra with curious expressions, some just smiling politely, and some whispering about her.

 

"Wow, I didn't expect Lord Hale to get married so soon, didn't the rumors say that he couldn't forget the Lady from the Ardent family?" whispered one noblewoman with a half-suppressed voice, covering her mouth with a fan.

 

"That's right," her friend replied, she wore a dress with a rather simple pattern, apparently from a Baron's family. She leaned forward slightly, before continuing her words, "Some people say that even now Lord Hale still keeps letters from Lady Isabelle. Very tragic, isn't it?"

 

"But still, isn't this too sudden?" said another, a woman with an emerald necklace hanging around her neck. "Some people think Lady Edeviene has been eyeing Lord Hale for a long time."

 

"Oh my goodness, really...?" muttered a young noble with narrowed eyes, as if she had just found an interesting plot from a drama. "If so, there's a possibility that Lady Edeviene was the cause of their separation."

 

Some of those whispers began to be heard among the waiting guests, Darian who heard this clenched his other hand as if not accepting the bad rumors about his daughter. Lyra, realizing this, she quickly held her father's back with a smile.

 

Darian slowly turned to Lyra, his gaze softening when he saw his daughter smiling like that. The face he used to see crying silently, now stood tall and proud. His fist unclenched, and he took a deep breath before nodding slowly.

 

"Sorry, Father just... wants the world to know they misjudged you," he mumbled softly.

 

Lyra shook her head slightly, then she gripped Darian's hand tighter. "Just let it be, Father, the important thing is that the reality is not like that."

 

Darian only nodded, he straightened his back and continued walking with his head held high, his role as head of the family and father of the bride-to-be taking over again.

 

Meanwhile, Lyra continued her walk along the path decorated with white fabric ornaments and flowers around it. Every time she continued her steps, she still remembered her previous marriage that still haunted her mind.

 

Lyra continued her steps, until she reached the end of the aisle, she then raised her face. In front of her now, a tall man stood tall, his eyes deep and unreadable. His dark black hair floated slightly due to the summer breeze, creating an impression as if time had slowed down for him. His blue eyes, as beautiful as cold and sharp sapphire gems, matched perfectly with his thick eyelashes, catching her gaze without much talk.

 

Lyra recognized the man standing tall in front of her at this moment, Keith Hale. He was the main character of the novel she read, and the person who would marry her now.

 

"Oh my goodness, I already suspected he had a good face because he's the main character," Lyra thought, her eyes almost unable to leave the man's figure. "But I didn't expect him to be this handsome..."