My dear fiancée,
I hope this letter reaches you just before the wedding.
As I write this letter, I have completed the inspection of half of the ice wall, and the grotesque monsters are still asleep behind the wall.
I will not be able to return in time for the wedding, and you, my bride, will not be able to stand opposite your groom during the vows.
In some way, I have hurt you, the one the Moon Goddess brought into my life.
This is my lifelong sin.
I will bear the punishment for not cherishing the treasure that the Moon Goddess gave me, and I am ready for it.
I will try to return as soon as possible.
The fortunate one to have you,
Vance II Barlow.
Liquorice carefully read the entire letter, then folded it and placed it on the table. Throughout the process, there was no emotion on her beautiful face.
"Lady Liquorice, please don't be sad. Duke Barlow always treasured this wedding," a maid timidly spoke.
"I understand him," Liquorice replied, then looked at herself in the mirror.
A beautiful girl in a gorgeous white wedding dress appeared in the mirror. Her hair was adorned with baby's breath, a flower she hated for its fragility.
Liquorice's eyes glanced out the window, catching sight of the church not far away. She saw the carriages arriving in droves, the nobles stepping out, greeting her father, and entering the church where a wedding without a groom was about to take place.
A wedding without a groom was always a humiliation for the bride. Even though the groom was doing his best to protect the people from a century-old threat, malicious gossip still spread from person to person.
However, Liquorice, the bride of this wedding, did not care. Her feelings when looking at the guests in the church were the same as when she read the letter from Duke Barlow, was nothing.
Contrary to what Duke Barlow wrote, she did not feel hurt. Because from the beginning, this wedding was not about love; they had never even met.
This was a political marriage, nothing more.
A temporary solution to reduce the conflict between the Reds and the Blues in the Council.
Liquorice touched the red earrings with the Truman family crest on the table. She was the human bride of the Reds.
And the groom was from the Blues, the werewolf Duke Vance II Barlow of Jadeherb.
Although she had not met him, she always heard about him through his great achievements.
A powerful werewolf who saved people from rogue packs' terror.
A hero who defeated Black Devil and liberated fragile mythical creatures.
A werewolf with an incredible wolf form and strength... etc.
For a long time, she remembered all the heroic stories told about Vance II Barlow, her future husband.
Liquorice sighed under her breath, the bulky wedding dress made her uncomfortable, the conflicting emotions like butterflies in her stomach, and fear took the opportunity to creep in.
As a habit, Liquorice reached for the fairy tale "Your Little Sun" to calm down. But her soft hand had not yet touched the book half a foot away when she heard the door open, followed by the serious voice of a familiar man.
"Lili, is everything ready?" his voice echoed throughout the room, followed by steady footsteps towards her.
Liquorice did not turn around; her eyes met the mirror. She saw a well-dressed man with a mysterious smile standing behind her.
"Almost done, brother," she respectfully said. "They will help me wear the Truman family crest earrings."
"Oh," Liquorice's brother, Fletcher, did not hide his bored expression.
The maids left the room after ensuring the door was closed carefully. Liquorice saw everything through the mirror, her hands clenched into fists on her lap when she heard the door close.
Fletcher sat on the nearby sofa, his eyes locked on Liquorice. He spoke with the tone of a warden leading a prisoner to the cell, "Lili, come here."
Hair on the back of her nape rose, she did not want to obey, but it had become a conditioned reflex.
Her body resisted her soul, she stepped closer to her brother like a programmed robot.
She sat on Fletcher's lap, and he, out of habit, wrapped his arms around her waist.
Fletcher caressed her face-framing strands, admiring Liquorice's beautiful face.
"You are very beautiful," he couldn't restrain himself and hugged her tighter.
Her body shivered slightly from his overly intimate actions.
No matter how much she screamed in her mind, Liquorice forced a smile on her face, "Thank you, brother."
And he responded with a satisfied smile.
The silence between them was heavier than the night until he broke it, "You read the letter from your future husband, didn't you?"
Liquorice nodded.
He stroked her face, whispering enough for her to hear, "I did everything to make sure he couldn't be at the wedding. Lili, you know I would go crazy seeing him hold your hand during the vows."
Liquorice did not respond, she just endured it and made sure her eyes stayed on his face instead of dropping to the floor.
"Always look at your brother when he talks to you," that was the rule.
She still remembered when that rule was set.
It was a winter day, after she was beaten in the snowfield for stealing bread because she was starving.