"Lucien Veyrion, do you take Seraphina Drax as your beloved wife, to bind your fate to hers, to walk with her through blood and fla, to belong to her, and her alone, never to betray, never to escape, for as long as your soul exists?"
Lantern light filled the hall, warm, yet a little too bright, making everything feel unreal.
Lucien Veyrion stood at the center in red wedding robes that didn’t quite suit him. The color was too bold for soone like him. He looked thin beneath the layers, almost fragile, as though the clothes were heavier than he was.
His long black hair was tied loosely behind him, smooth and neat, though a few strands had fallen out and rested against his face.
His skin was pale, giving him a quiet, almost distant look. Up close, his features were refined—too refined for soone with no strength to protect himself.
Beside him stood Seraphina Drax, his wedded wife.
The difference between them was obvious.
She stood straight, composed, as though she naturally belonged in a place like this. Her presence alone made people quiet without her needing to say a word.
Her red robes fit her perfectly, detailed with gold patterns that caught the light with every small movent.
Her long hair fell freely down her back, dark and smooth, though under the lantern light, there was a faint red tint hidden within it.
Her face was beautiful, but not soft. There was a sharpness to it, sothing distant. When she looked at others, her gaze felt heavy enough that people instinctively looked away.
But she wasn’t looking at them.
She was looking at him.
The people noticed this and turned their gazes toward him.
A man who couldn’t cultivate.
A man who had no place standing there.
How could he have been so lucky as to marry such a beautiful and powerful lady when he was nothing but trash?
The only thing notable about Lucien was his beautiful face and frail body—sothing that made won’s hearts ache and stirred a desire to protect him.
This caused jealousy and envy among the n.
Yet his expression didn’t change. He didn’t look nervous, embarrassed, or even resentful. His eyes remained calm, steady, as if none of it mattered.
It made it hard to tell what he was thinking.
"How many years had it been?"
"How long had he lived in this world?"
In his previous life, he had been a man blessed with a handso appearance that often drew attention wherever he went.
Handso and refined.
But his body had also been weak—unnaturally frail.
He had been the kind who couldn’t endure hardship, stress, or illness for long.
He lived normally for a while in a wealthy household... until that weakness caught up with him.
And in the end, he died at the age of twenty-five.
His body couldn’t carry his life any longer.
And of all things, he hated seven girls who had been his childhood friends.
Because of his handsoness since he was young, they had grown attached to him as they matured, their attachnt gradually turning obsessive.
Because of this, he had been pushed around by them, and it affected him... shortening his already fragile life.
He hated them for it, even after his death.
Because if not for them, he would have lived at least five years longer.
Even though he had been reborn in this new world with the sa body and na, he had never expected to encounter one of them again.
...Especially not like this.
\
Lucien’s gaze was fixed on his wife. Her eyes were entirely on him, as if they were in their own world.
Her gaze lingered on him... with a hunger she didn’t bother to hide.
He breathed heavily under her intense gaze and said, "Yes."
"Seraphina Drax, do you take Lucien Veyrion as your beloved husband, to bind your fate to his, to claim him in life and in death, to guard him, possess him, and never release him, for as long as your soul exists?"
Lucien heard the marriage vow. His gaze flickered as he sighed inwardly.
This wasn’t the marriage vow he knew from his past life... and wasn’t it a bit too... possessive?
He knew he had entered into a pit of trouble.
"Yes." Seraphina replied delightedly as she held the hem of her garnt to hide her excitent.
Lucien saw this and was speechless. Was she that excited to marry him?
"You may now exchange rings."
He glanced at the angel beside him, who looked more like a pastor presiding over the wedding.
He was surprised that so aspects of his past life’s culture and traditions still existed in his world.
For example—this mont, weddings... even churches.
Seraphina took his left hand, placing the wedding ring on his fourth finger.
He did the sa.
Imdiately, flowers appeared from nowhere, beautifying the scene.
It felt as if they had descended into the mortal world.
"You may now kiss."
This was clearly the mont the crowd had been waiting for.
Everyone cheered for them, including his family mbers.
He looked at his wife and saw her gaze fixed on his lips, licking them as if this were the mont she had been waiting for.
Before he could speak, she threw herself at his lips.
Her lips passionately pressed against his.
This kiss was unlike any he rembered from his past life.
It felt as if his breath was being pulled out.
Before he realized it, he was feeling dizzy from his low stamina and her intense kiss.
He tried to stop her, but she overwheld him.
His vision blurred. Was he really going to faint on his wedding day?
How embarrassing would that be?
He thought, struggling to stay conscious.
But Seraphina didn’t stop.
He felt the icy breath of death. Was he truly going to die again?
And all from a kiss?
He didn’t want to die, but his weak body left him no choice, just like in his first life.
His vision darkened. Only a single breath remained.
He was dying.
Just like before.
Again.
Ding.
[Critical state detected...]
[Obsessive intent registered...]
[Condition fulfilled.]
[System awakening...]
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