Today was her wedding day.
In the past few weeks, Evelyn had learned the truth—Michael was already married. Not to one woman, but six.
And she was to become the seventh.
Not the last. Never the last.
It would go on… and on… until he was done.
She had cried in silence the night she found out, cursing the day she was born—and the day he first appeared in her dreams.
Now, everything felt inevitable.
She had just finished her bath and slipped into her undergarments when the staff began to file into the room. They moved around her quickly and efficiently, preparing her for the ceremony.
Evelyn sat still as they worked.
Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror.
Beautiful… yet lifeless.
Like a shadow of who she used to be.
Then a voice echoed in her mind—calm, distant, unfamiliar.
"I want the best for you, Evelyn."
Her breath caught.
"Yes, you will be the seventh wife… but not for long, my dear. Stand by Zafil in his difficult times. Even when others fail him, prove your love."
The words didn't belong to her mother.
Not her father.
Not even Michael.
They felt… higher.
Heavier.
Like something she couldn't argue with.
Evelyn swallowed hard, unease tightening in her chest.
The staff continued their work—makeup, hair, the dress. Hours passed in a blur of stillness and quiet instructions.
By the time they were done, she was alone again.
The wedding had already begun.
No parents.
No Jane.
No Jade.
Just her… sitting in silence, drowning in thoughts.
The world really betrayed me, she thought.
A sudden surge of emotion broke through.
"Ahhh—!"
Evelyn screamed, the sound tearing from her chest.
The room was soundproof.
No one would hear.
No one would come.
"This is what you wanted, right?" she cried, her voice shaking. "It's done now! I have only minutes left… and there's no escape!"
She laughed bitterly through her tears.
"Thank you. Thank you very much."
Her gaze shifted to the mirror again.
She looked stunning.
Perfect.
A bride anyone would admire.
But behind the beauty…
She was breaking.
Her vision blurred as tears slipped down her cheeks, ruining the careful work on her face.
She didn't care anymore.
She grabbed whatever she could reach—throwing things, knocking objects over, letting her anger consume the room.
"He doesn't love me!" she shouted. "He already has women—so why me?"
Her voice cracked.
"Why?"
"Why me?"
"Evelyn… Evelyn, calm down."
The voice was close this time. Real.
She froze.
Her body gave out as she collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily.
Slowly, she looked up.
Her mother stood there.
Closer than she expected.
"What's wrong, my dear?" her mother said softly, kneeling beside her. "Talk to me."
"I'm fine," Evelyn muttered weakly. "I was just… looking for something."
Her mother pulled her into a gentle embrace.
"Why are you hiding your pain from me?" she whispered. "I'm here for you, Evie."
Evelyn stiffened in her arms.
"You're asking me what's wrong?" she said, her voice trembling. "I'm getting married… against my will."
Her mother pulled back slightly, searching her face.
"Is it time already?" she asked.
"We can go later," Evelyn replied. "If you talk to me."
"It's your wedding day," her mother said carefully. "But you're not happy… we can stop this if you truly don't want it."
Evelyn let out a hollow laugh.
"Stop it? Are you even hearing yourself?"
Her eyes hardened.
"Do you really think Michael will let me go?"
Her mother's expression shifted—firm, almost intense.
"He will," she said. "Because you belong to him."
Evelyn stared at her, stunned.
"He is yours, Evelyn. Why can't you see that? He's drawn to you… more than the others. He can bend the world if he wants to."
She cupped Evelyn's face gently.
"I'm your mother. I would do anything for you."
Her voice softened again.
"Tell me what's in your heart."
Evelyn's lips trembled.
"He doesn't love me," she whispered. "And I'll make sure… he never gets close to me. Not before this wedding. Not after."
Silence settled between them.
Slowly, Evelyn reached for her veil…
…and covered her face.