A maiden is expected to marry into nobility to uphold the family name's honour. However, come the night of her wedding, the mysterious dragon shifter she encountered in the forest has other ideas, starting by invading her carriage.
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《· of reaping sows ·》
~°~
It was the moment of dread settling in the pit of her stomach that made Olivia clench her fists into the thick fabric of her gown. She stared herself down in the mirror, eyeing out each imperfection of herself being hidden under the soft folds of glittering white.
She didn't even suit the bland colour.
The corset was tight, hugging against her slim waist whilst it pushed up her chest, exposing a good portion of her cleavage in a seductive manner. The farthingale itself was one of the largest ones the maiden had ever worn.
However, she must admit, she quite liked how it shaped the streams of silk woven to delicate folds and binding thread.
"M'lady, you look stunning," Maggie beamed from behind Olivia as she braided her hair. "I'm still quite surprised you will be accepting a suitor tonight."
Olivia offered a weak smile. "I share the same confusion about it."
"If I may, what changed your mind?"
A sigh released in a soft breath and Olivia looked down. She had to keep reminding herself of why she was going through with the grand ball, tight-lipped. Olivia was sacrificing herself for a love she wanted but would never have.
As long as Maggie and Abraham became happily wedded, Olivia would be okay with witnessing the blossoming love. Even if there was an ache in her chest that grew heavier with each passing night.
"Perhaps it would be time for me to settle down. I'm not getting any younger these days, and any suitor of mine could be my last."
"M'lady, don't speak so commonly of yourself. Your beauty is exquisite, unlike any other woman in Limroy. Any man will be lucky to have you as a bride."
Olivia said nothing. Her eyes trained on the mirror in front of her, the steep length reflecting the same sorrow that weighed in her heart. Each breath felt strained, each step a mere burden, yet there was nothing the maiden could do.
She had brought it on herself. A tragic comedy of you-reap-what-you-sow.
Though Olivia should take some responsibility for her actions. While she had an impressive amount of suitors, she wasn't typically the town's favourite. Much of her troublesome tales stemmed from crafting her swords. Much of a town's murmurs were generous with scorn for her behaving in such an improper mannerism. A woman wielding a sword was simply unheard of.
And Olivia's carved swords were the very ones she used in a match against Blue Eyes. Her mysterious Blue Eyes.
Why did he have to leave before she returned? She specifically told of only being a moment; perhaps a moment too late. As odd as it was, Olivia felt fulfilled after he left, as if his presence alone settled the nerves currently biting into her waist at that very moment.
