The majestic pipe organ strains spread out in concentric circles.

Guests in colourful robes filled the seats on both sides of the road , and the entire ceremony was filled with solemn dignity.

It was as formal as a duke's wedding in every way.

However, there was no sign of wedding-like joy or bustle anywhere.

'I believe it is more appropriate to call it a funeral.'

It truly is.

Both the groom's and the bride's guests have dark complexions.

'Please keep your facial expressions under control, no matter how uncomfortable you are. Is it just me who can do this?'

I must enter this frozen ceremony and stand next to a man who will kill me.

"Now, Gauri Sharma, would you please enter."

My entrance was ordered grimly by the priest, who did not know if he had come to celebrate a funeral mass or to officiate at a wedding.

Despite my mental rehearsals from yesterday's practice sessions, I couldn't help but feel anxious.

I moved forward at a leisurely pace, using my toes to gently tap the hem of my dress, as I had trained to avoid an unintentional stumble.

However, the issue with the wedding dress I'm wearing isn't the skirt.

My bosom... I understand that my breasts are lovely and large, but they are too visible.

I feel like something is missing to cover my chest because I'm wearing it for the first time.

"Isn't a sensual dress a little excessive on a wedding day, regardless of how amazing it is?"

Looks at me that betrayed negative emotions, as if I wasn't the only one who felt that way—disgust, contempt, disrespect, or lust.

I approached the man who would slit my throat one day, feeling the flakes of favour so thin that I was unable to feel them.

He didn't even glance at me, of course. I must seem to him like a punishment or a curse.

"Whoa, even though I didn't fall," The first step is evident.

I sighed with relief as I bowed my head slightly and bent my knees to show the priest that I was courteous.

With an indifferent nod, the priest started to recite a blessing prayer.

"All things in the world give thanks to you, Almighty , my God. I give you two blessings, lovely man and woman, who will create a cosy and joyous family in the arms of the Creator today.

Okay, so... It seems unlikely that I will be able to build a contented and cosy future with this man.

Whether I will be able to have a "happy or warm family" or a "future" is very unclear in this situation, knowing that a man who hates me is going to cut my throat.

However, there is no way for me to avert or reject this circumstance in advance.

I was in the body of a woman who was getting married in a week when I opened my eyes.

And how absurd the procedure was.

Bad luck never strikes by itself.
That was the events of that day.

"Shrenu! I warned you against doing this!

Indeed? This is Ria, the senior.

"I apologise, manager. Excel is still a mystery to Shrenu, and I'll make sure she understands it.

Ria blamed me for her mistakes, even though she was a senior and came a year ahead of me, and she had done all sorts of bad things.

After printing out a disorganised Excel spreadsheet, Manager Ranjit gave me a stern look and badgered me for a while before leaving.

I gave Ria a puzzled look, but she didn't even look up from where she was sitting—instead, she slid into her seat and appeared to be tired.

What is the duration of Ria's life to be like that?

I'm not sure.

- Ugh She started swearing in the morning. Shrenu, get well soon!

I received some encouragement from a coworker via messenger, but it didn't really strengthen me.

Perhaps it was because I witnessed her and Ria heading to buy coffee at the end of lunch.

Though this happens so frequently that I assumed it was just bad luck and that I deserved it, I was in a foul mood.

I had a date with my boyfriend after work on Friday.

But it wasn't until after work that I got a message from my boyfriend canceling our date.

– Baby~ I got the weekend shift and will be working overtime today. I'm sorry 🥺 See you next week. I'll buy you something tasty ♡

Aside from not being able to see him all weekend, I was upset to hear that my boyfriend, who had been suffering from overtime lately, had to work through the weekend.

I wouldn't have noticed my boyfriend holding hands with another woman if I hadn't visited Phoneix Mall, where we were supposed to meet today.

As they walked away, I just stared blankly at their backs. I didn't pick up my phone until they were completely out of sight.

In reference to putting in extra hours, the woman you're holding hands with has got to be your supervisor. You two appear to be putting in a lot of effort. Please go bury your bones at work and don't get in touch with me again!

Strangely, I didn't feel like my hands were shaking or that I was going to cry even when I saw my boyfriend cheat on me with my own eyes. To be honest, I wasn't even angry.

Maybe I was sort of expecting this kind of breakup.

"Because I am not deserving of him."

He works for a fairly large company and is an honest man who was raised in an affluent family. He is a decent-looking, educated, kind, and somewhat tall man.

He is a man who is content with a modest lifestyle, in contrast to me, who comes from a low-income family and makes a concerted effort to hide the fact that I am penniless.

Although I am appreciative of the man's kindness towards me, I couldn't help but wonder, "How long will this continue?"

And today is that "when."

"I have no money left." I have a lot of novels in the cart that I need to pay for and read this weekend.

That line of thinking eased my mind a little.

Before going to bed, I enjoy reading romance fantasy (Rofan) novels. I have to wait for it or open one free chapter each day, even if I don't have enough pocket money.

My steps back home became instantaneously lighter when I realised that I could save up enough money to pay for some novels in the cart and meet an imaginary man.

However, I was mistaken to believe that the day's negative events came to an end at that point.

"Now, what are you doing? You punk, hurry up and come here!"

"What?" "Brother ?"

In front of my studio door, near the steep stairs of a dilapidated multi-family home, was my older brother.

My body went stiff at the smell of alcohol before I was even close.

"Hey, give me all of your money."

How come? I have no money at all.

"A card is with you! Bring some cash with you, and give it to me!

"Brother, are you gambling once more?

"Oh my god, you talk so much! Your saviour, who has kept you alive thus far, who are you to bother me?

My brother's abrupt shout deafened me, but I was more concerned about who might be listening or if someone was next door.

"Will that salvation excuse follow me into eternity?"

My older brother used to blatantly ask me for money, all the while claiming to have given me a bone marrow transplant thirteen years ago because I had leukaemia.

I'm not sure how much I believed, at the time, that it would have been convenient if I hadn't received a bone marrow transplant.

more so now than before.

I'm not good at remembering negative things, but I'm sick of this happening again.

Not at all. How much money did you borrow from me, do you know? Repay it and make a loan request!

How come? This fucking bitch!

My brother gave me a cheek slap.

My ears were deaf and there was a flash of light in front of my eyes. I had an odd feeling that made me feel like I was floating.

"Aha, I see stairs behind me."

As soon as I had that thought, I rolled down the stairs and struck my head hard somewhere near the top.

That was my last memory,as Shrenu .

***

I had the impression that I had been asleep for a while.

I became aware that I was not dead as I gradually came to.

When I opened my eyes, I assumed I was in a hospital, but what I saw was unrecognisable as a medical setting.

"Room of the princess..."

It was a room that looked like what I had seen online, the Palace of Versailles.

In addition, my body, which ought to have been broken or at the very least severely bruised, didn't hurt.

Actually, I felt even more energised than usual.

"What?" How much longer am I unconscious?

Thick dark-brown hair cascaded down my shoulders as I got out of bed.

My hair was thin from leukaemia, and I had never coloured it.

I was stunned, holding my fine hair in my hands, when there was a knock on the door.

"This is Ragini, dear lady."

"Ragini?"

"I'm about to enter."

Then the door opened and a slightly spooky-looking young woman entered carrying what appeared to be a tray holding a copper washbasin.

Her attire resembles that of a maid that cosplayers frequently don.