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Chapter 6

Author: Celebrant
Adrian POV

The road north unraveled beneath my horse’s hooves, mile after mile of frozen ground cutting through the last illusion that I still had time.

I had seen this ending before.

In the last life, it was Elara who went north—trembling, weeping, clinging to every farewell as if it were a lifeline. She had written once, then never again. A year later, word reached the capital: the northern consort had taken her own life. The court mourned briefly. I told myself it was inevitable. I told myself I had done what duty required.

I had been wrong.

This time, it was her.

The woman who rode alone beyond the gates without tears, without reproach, without even turning back toward the city that had sacrificed her.

And that was what terrified me most.

By the third night, I began to hear it everywhere—the truth I had buried under discipline and honor.

The northern lords did not keep fragile women alive.

They tested them.

They broke them.

Or they killed them.

I knew their customs. I
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  • The Marriage Meant for Another   Chapter 8

    He moved before I finished breathing. One moment there was distance between us—custom, borders, fate— the next, his hand closed around my wrist with a force that startled us both. “We’re leaving,” Adrian said. Not a request. Not a plan. An order barked from instinct, sharp and unthinking, the way commands were given on a battlefield when hesitation meant death. I staggered a half-step toward him. The guards stirred. Steel whispered from scabbards. I looked up at him, stunned—not by the pain in my wrist, but by the naked fury in his eyes. Gone was the restraint, the discipline that had always defined him. This was not a general weighing consequences. This was a man who had reached the edge of himself. “Now,” he said again, lower this time. “Before this place takes anything else from you.” For a heartbeat, I wanted to go. God help me, I wanted to turn my horse south and never look back—to let him pull me out of this nightmare and pretend the treaty, the blood, the years of s

  • The Marriage Meant for Another   Chapter 7

    Elise POV I had stopped expecting rescue. That, perhaps, was the most dangerous thing of all. The north taught its lessons quickly. Silence was safer than protest. Stillness invited less attention than fear. On the third day, one of the women assigned to me tugged too hard at my sleeve while dressing me for court, and I did not pull away in time. The fabric tore. The blade that followed was swift and careless, meant to remind me where I stood. The blood dried dark against the pale wool. No one apologized. I did not ask for it. By the fourth night, I understood what Elara must have faced in the other life—the constant testing, the quiet cruelty disguised as custom, the waiting to see when the southern bride would finally break. I would not. If this was the price of peace, then I would pay it standing. That was why, when the guards announced an audience—unexpected, unscheduled—I assumed it was another humiliation dressed as courtesy. Another northern lord curious to see how muc

  • The Marriage Meant for Another   Chapter 6

    Adrian POV The road north unraveled beneath my horse’s hooves, mile after mile of frozen ground cutting through the last illusion that I still had time. I had seen this ending before. In the last life, it was Elara who went north—trembling, weeping, clinging to every farewell as if it were a lifeline. She had written once, then never again. A year later, word reached the capital: the northern consort had taken her own life. The court mourned briefly. I told myself it was inevitable. I told myself I had done what duty required. I had been wrong. This time, it was her. The woman who rode alone beyond the gates without tears, without reproach, without even turning back toward the city that had sacrificed her. And that was what terrified me most. By the third night, I began to hear it everywhere—the truth I had buried under discipline and honor. The northern lords did not keep fragile women alive. They tested them. They broke them. Or they killed them. I knew their customs. I

  • The Marriage Meant for Another   Chapter 5

    The familiar face beneath the veil struck him like a blow. “Elara!” She surged into his arms, clutching his chest as if the ground itself had vanished beneath her feet. “How—how is it you?” he asked hoarsely. The moment the words left his mouth, a cold thought took shape. Elara’s gaze flickered away. Her voice softened, threaded with unease and something carefully concealed. “I… I don’t know,” she said. “Yesterday the royal decree was altered. They said… Elise was sent north in my place.” The room seemed to tilt. “What did you say?” Adrian seized her shoulders, fingers biting hard enough to leave bruises. “If she went north—then the woman who rode out alone beyond the gates—” “Elara,” someone called urgently from outside. “General—where are you going?” Adrian released her as if burned. He did not answer. Still dressed in ceremonial red, he snatched his sword from its stand, crossed the chamber in three strides, and was gone—mounting his horse and driving it forward thro

  • The Marriage Meant for Another   Chapter 4

    Adrian stood outside my chamber for an entire day and night. I never opened the door. On the eve of the political marriage, moonlight traced his silhouette across the threshold—tall, rigid, unmoving. At last, his voice broke the silence. “Elise,” he said at last. His voice was low, restrained—too controlled for a man standing on the edge of a choice he did not fully understand. “I will marry you.” I leaned my back against the door and did not reply. “I will spend my life answering for that blade,” he continued. Each word came carefully, as if chosen from a code he had lived by since boyhood. “I swear it—not as a lover, but as a soldier.” There was a pause. “I will guard you as I have guarded this realm,” he said finally. “With my body.With my life.” He did not say love. He said the only things he had ever been taught to mean forever. I remained silent. After a while, his steps moved away down the corridor—measured, controlled, as though leaving were simply another order

  • The Marriage Meant for Another   Chapter 3

    I attended what would be my last Mid-Autumn banquet in my homeland. By the time I arrived, the great hall was already alive with low music and candlelight—and with tears. Elara stood at the center of a circle of noble ladies, her eyes rimmed red, her voice trembling just enough to draw sympathy without breaking entirely. She clutched a silk handkerchief as though it were the only thing holding her together. “So after the festival, Princess Elara will be sent beyond the northern border…” one lady sighed loudly. “How tragic,” another murmured. “And the Crown Princess does nothing—nothing at all—except chase after General Adrian’s favor.” “At least Elara understands duty,” someone added. “Such devotion to the realm…” Elara’s shoulders shook. Beneath the sleeve that hid her face, a flicker of something else passed—brief, sharp, satisfied. Then she saw me. Her breath caught. I had never liked these gatherings. In previous years, I rarely attended the Mid-Autumn banquet at all. She

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