Lyra Martha, a woman mysteriously transported from another world, now inhabits the body of a supporting character from a novel she had previously read.  She lies exhausted after the tumultuous wedding ceremony that ended only a few hours ago.  Several weeks ago, she suddenly awoke in this foreign world, in the body of a noblewoman fated for death as the wife of the main character.

To avoid that death, and to ensure the novel’s storyline doesn't become the tragedy depicted in the original story, Lyra has no choice but to follow the scenario presented to her, including the marriage that has just taken place with a man who doesn't love her.

Let's rewind to a moment before this.

Today, after her marriage to Keith was declared legal, Isabelle inexplicably arrived, seemingly intent on observing Keith's reaction. At that moment, Keith still stood at the altar, his posture stiff, like someone whose body was present but whose mind was far away. His usually calm face now looked slightly troubled, and his eyes weren't on Lyra, his lawfully wedded wife, but stared blankly towards the chapel door, now closed again.

Lyra stood beside him, silent. Her fingers clutched her bouquet tightly, and her chin was slightly raised, trying to maintain her dignity amidst the uncertainty surrounding the groom. The officiant stood awkwardly between them, then attempted to clear his throat to ease the tension.

"With this, the ceremony is complete. Please, the newlyweds may proceed to the courtyard as a symbol of the beginning of a new life," he said, trying to keep his voice firm.

Keith finally moved slowly; despite his mind being preoccupied with Isabelle, he was still aware of his current position.  He reluctantly offered his arm to Lyra.

Lyra's eyes trembled slightly at this, then she accepted his arm with a smile, though Keith felt uncomfortable with her now. They both walked slowly down the aisle.

Once they reached the bottom of the aisle, Count Darian stepped forward from among the guests. Without hesitation, the middle-aged man approached Lyra and embraced her briefly. His body trembled slightly, and from his teary eyes, a single tear finally fell, wetting his cheek.

"Dad still can't believe you're leaving father to go with your husband so soon, Tia." His voice was hoarse, holding back emotions that were almost breaking at the end of his sentence. He gently stroked his daughter's shoulder, as if trying to capture the last moment as a father who could still embrace his daughter.

He slowly released the embrace, then looked at Lyra with heartfelt emotion.

"It seems like only yesterday you called me Father and cried because you were running around in the garden of our residence, and now... look at you." His gaze fell to Lyra's elegant wedding dress, then back to her face. "You've grown up so fast."

Lyra smiled faintly, then took Count Darian's hand, "Oh, come on, Dad, you're exaggerating," she said, trying to sound lighthearted.

Despite saying that, this was something new for Lyra, a feeling she had never experienced before. Although her previous marriage was full of love, she didn't receive a single warm hug or tearful moment from her family. But this time, Count Darian's hug felt truly real. A genuine emotion. As if she were truly a child about to be married and released by her father.

Even if only for a moment, Lyra was grateful to Count Darian for loving her as his daughter.

"Dad hopes you'll be happy, my daughter. If you want to visit our home, come anytime... the door of the residence is always open to you," Count Darian said in a trembling but gentle voice. He touched Lyra's cheek once before finally releasing their hands.

Then he looked at Keith with a gaze full of hopeful worry.

"Sir, I entrust my daughter to you," he said firmly. His tone changed slightly, becoming more formal but still full of emotion as a father handing over his only daughter. "I don't ask for much. Just treat her well, protect her, and don't let her smile fade."

Keith stared blankly at the middle-aged man; he didn't answer immediately, but only nodded briefly as a sign of respect and acceptance. A nod that might not promise anything.

Lyra, seeing this, could only remain silent, her feelings complex. She knew the man beside her wouldn't do what Count Darian had said as long as his mind was still influenced by the woman who had abandoned him.

After a brief conversation with Count Darian, Lyra bowed to him. They walked past the guests who were beginning to leave the chapel, some giving respectful greetings, some throwing smiles, and others whispering empty congratulations.

After the farewells and congratulations from the guests were over, the newlyweds boarded the luxurious carriage that had been specially prepared by the Hale family. The carriage, adorned with the Hale family crest, stood out among the other vehicles, pulled by four white horses with gleaming black saddles.

Back to the present, in her spacious new room at the Hale family residence, Lyra lies on a white bed with a thin canopy gently swaying in the night breeze entering through the gaps in the windows. Dimly lit candles in the corners of the room cast her shadow on the wall. Her wedding dress had been changed to a light satin nightgown, but her body and mind still felt heavy with the remnants of today's tension.

Lyra stares at the ceiling, then sighs deeply. Everything felt so fast and real, too real.  However, there's no turning back for her now. She is Celestia Edeviene, and the wife of Keith Hale.

"Wife, huh..." she murmured, her mouth lifting slightly.

She then got up from her bed, her eyes widening and her hands clutching the edge of the blanket.  Being a wife... and having just finished the wedding. Isn't it normal to have a first night?

Lyra shook her head slowly, as if trying to dispel the thought that had just appeared. The first night, of course, that's normal for newlyweds, but the marriage between her and Keith... now it feels so impossible to take that step.

This marriage isn't like her previous marriage; there's no love between them. Even now, Keith is still trapped in his past, and Lyra is merely a replacement. The desire to go further in this relationship feels so distant, as if it's impossible to materialize.

Lyra fell silent for a moment, her eyes staring blankly out the window. "But... what if he suddenly does it?" she thought, feelings of anxiety and confusion overwhelming her heart. "It's possible, right? Just for formality... But wait...!!" her thoughts stopped abruptly. "Why am I thinking as if I want it?"

Lyra sat down, leaning against her bed pillows, her hands hugging her knees pulled up to her chest. She then looked at the tightly closed bedroom door, hoping that, maybe, just maybe, Keith would come to her. Maybe there's a small chance, a glimmer of hope that the first night would actually happen, even though she knew in her heart it was highly unlikely.

Time passed slowly; each second felt longer. The ticking of the clock on the wall beat with a rhythm that seemed to torment her. Time passed slowly; each second felt longer. The ticking of the clock on the wall beat with an increasingly tormenting rhythm. Lyra looked around the silent room, only lit by the soft moonlight shining through the window.

Several times she glanced towards the door, hoping to hear the sound of approaching footsteps, but there were no signs at all. Silence.

"So, that's it..." she thought, feeling a little disappointed. No one came, no one knocked. Perhaps it's true, this marriage is only for status, a formality performed without feeling. Keith clearly isn't interested in her, let alone the first night that should belong to a couple who love each other.

Lyra bit her lip, feeling strange about her thoughts. She didn't want to desire it, didn't want to hope too much, but somehow there was a very real feeling of loneliness within her. This is their first night as a legally married couple, but in reality, she feels incredibly alone. Is this something Celestia experienced in the original novel?

Finally, after hours of waiting in silence, Lyra decided to let go of her hopes. She lay down on the bed, pulling the blanket up to cover her body. No one came, and probably no one will. This is the reality she has to accept.

"What was I even hoping for..." Lyra whispered to herself, calming her restless heart.

Lyra then straightened her legs and lowered her body onto the mattress. Her head slowly rested on the soft pillow, and she pulled the blanket up to her chin. Her fingertips briefly touched the cool bedsheet, as if seeking comfort from the unfamiliar surface. Her eyes stared at the ceiling for a moment, blank, meaningless, before she finally closed her eyes slowly.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Keith is in his room. The room is dominated by tall shelves filled with thick books with dark leather covers, neatly lined from floor to ceiling. Keith sits behind a large wooden desk now covered with documents and important letters he hasn't touched in months.

He leans slightly back in his black leather chair, still wearing a formal white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Thin silver-framed glasses rest on the bridge of his nose. However, he isn't reading any of the documents in front of him.

Keith is silent, motionless, staring blankly out the large window in his study. Moonlight slips through a thin crack, unintentionally illuminating him.

"Lord, if you're only staring at those documents without reading them," Pavel's calm voice, his personal assistant, can be heard from the side of the room. The loyal man stands near the bookshelf, his arms crossed in front of his chest with a neutral yet attentive expression. "What if you rest now?  The Lady might be waiting for you in the bedroom."

The atmosphere instantly becomes quieter, as if Pavel's words bring a new silence. Keith doesn't answer immediately. He only takes a slow breath, his gaze still fixed on the moon behind the window. He then removes his glasses and bows slightly while combing his hair with his hand.

"Are you serious, Pavel?" Keith finally speaks. He slowly removes his glasses, placing them on the desk before leaning back against the chair's backrest. The moonlight highlights the side of his face, emphasizing the dark shadows under his eyes. "I can't do that. I can't pretend everything is alright."

Pavel bows his head slightly, his expression remaining calm, but there's a faint worry in his eyes. After a long pause, he finally asks cautiously, "Is it because of Lady Isabelle again...?"

Keith clicks his tongue softly, then clenches his fist and hits the table with an uncontrolled movement. The sound of the wood is quite loud in the silence of the night, causing the documents on the desk to tremble. Pavel reflexively straightens his body, but remains unmoved from his place.

"It has nothing to do with Isabelle." His eyes stare sharply at Pavel.

Pavel is silent for a moment, his eyes looking at his master thoughtfully. He knows Keith very well; even though his master tries to hide it, his tone of voice and body language betray his thoughts. The man isn't just angry; he's confused, trapped in emotions he doesn't want to admit.

However, as usual, Pavel remains calm. "I understand, My Lord," he says in a tired voice.

He doesn't ask any more questions, only bowing deeply respectfully, hiding his sincere hopeful expression.  In his heart, Pavel hopes, however small the chance, the new woman who is now his master's wife can be a small light that slowly guides Keith out of the past that haunts him.

He knows Keith's wounds won't heal just because of time, and nothing can force him to change, except someone who can truly touch his heart, which he has kept tightly closed for only one woman.