“Miss Larsen, this way, please.” Celine turned toward the assistant. A woman in her mid-thirties was standing in the corridor, holding a folder against her chest. Everything about the woman’s appearance was neat and orderly, exactly how Duke Austen wanted his employees to be. “Are we really doing this here?” Celine asked. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Austen is already inside.” Celine felt uneasy. She had not slept at all the night before. After signing the contract, she went home and stared at the papers she had agreed to sign. The word marriage stayed in her head repeatedly. She told herself that it was only for formality and public image. However, as she followed the assistant through the corridor filled with framed photos of smiling couples, she began to feel nervous. It did not feel symbolic anymore. The doors opened to a small courtroom prepared for a civil wedding ceremony. The room was empty except for the judge, two witnesses whom Celine did not know, and Duke Austen, who
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