The Martin mansion wasn't quiet that morning, but it didn't feel alive, either. It was filled with the mechanical noise of a deadline: the harsh zip of heavy suitcases, the sharp click of heels on marble, and instructions barked twice because everyone was too stressed to listen the first time.
Valary sat on the designer leather couch, slumped to one side as if the simple act of sitting upright was a chore she hadn't signed up for. She was dressed in a pair of distressed denim shorts and a pale blue silk top, with a black button-down tied carelessly around her waist. Her chin rested in her palm, her gaze flat and jagged with irritation as she watched the staff pack her life into boxes like they were clearing out a storage unit.
"There," Martin said after a while, stepping back and looking over everything with a satisfied nod. "That should be enough. You don't need to take half the house with you."
Valary didn't even look at him. Her eyes stayed fixed on one of the suitcases as it was zipped shut.
"Why do you even ask me?" she said flatly. "You've already decided everything anyway."
Martin let out a quiet breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Val, don't start again."
"I'm not starting anything," she replied, finally turning her head slightly, just enough to glance at him. "I'm just saying—if nothing depends on what I want, then stop pretending it does."
Her tone wasn't loud, but it carried enough sharpness to make the room feel smaller.
"You're meeting your fiancé today," Martin said, trying to keep his voice steady. "At least act like it matters a little."
Valary let out a dry laugh, leaning back into the couch. "Oh, it matters. I just don't see why I'm supposed to be excited to meet a random village freak."
Martin's expression hardened slightly. "Don't look down on him. He's not some random village guy."
Valary raised an eyebrow. "Then what is he? A President?"
"He works at one of the most prestigious firms in Dejung City," Martin said, ticking off points on his fingers. "He's responsible, hardworking, respectful…a true gentleman. He's grounded, and—"
"And he's chosen by you," she cut in, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Which is the only qualification on his resume that matters in this house, isn't it?"
That landed harder than she expected. For a moment, Martin didn't respond, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them.
"He's a hell of a lot better than those useless jerks you hang out with," he added, a small, almost invisible smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Valary opened her mouth to snap back, but the words died in her throat. She didn't even try to defend them; deep down, she knew he was right about her "circle"…a group of people who were only there for the party and the status. She just turned her face away, leaning her chin back into her palm.
Then Martin spoke again, his voice dropping to a much quieter, more somber frequency.
"Your mother... she would have really liked him, Val."
The words slipped into the space between them and stayed there.
Valary's fingers tightened slightly against her arm, but her face didn't change immediately. When she finally looked at him, there was something colder in her eyes.
"Don't," she said.
"I'm just saying—"
"Don't bring her every time to win over me," she snapped, sitting up now. "You don't get to use her whenever it's convenient."
Martin sighed, but he didn't back down this time. "I'm not using her. I'm telling you the truth. That village—Mistwood—that's where we grew up. That's where she was happiest."
Valary looked away again, but she didn't interrupt.
"She always loved it there—the people, the atmosphere. She felt like she actually belonged," he continued, his voice softening as the memories took over. "To be honest, she really missed that life after we moved to the city. She used to tell me all the time that she wanted you to grow up in that village, too. She thought your life would be just as happy as hers was."
Valary didn't look at him, but her tapping finger went still.
"She had a secret place there," Martin said, a faint, distant smile touching his lips. "A spot right by the lake. She used to disappear there whenever the world got to be too much for her. No one in the world knew where it was... except me."
That made Valary pause.
For the first time since the conversation started, she actually listened.
"I never told you," he admitted. "I should have. But after she was gone… I didn't know how to talk about it without…" He stopped, exhaling quietly. "You'll see it when we get there."
Valary didn't respond immediately. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her thoughts shifting in a way she didn't like.
"…we'll see," she muttered after a moment, but her tone had lost some of its edge.
On the other side of the province, the atmosphere in the Lian household was pure, unadulterated chaos. Sarah and Daniel were a blur of motion, scrubbing surfaces that were already clean and rearranging furniture for the tenth time.
Lian stumbled downstairs, squinting through his thick-rimmed glasses and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He froze at the sight of his mother aggressively polishing a silver platter.
"Umm... Mom? is the house on fire? Why are you guys acting like we're expecting some celebrities?" he asked, scratching the back of his head.
"Lian! Thank goodness you're up," Sarah panted, not stopping her frantic buffing. "Did you forget? Martin and Valary are arriving today. They're staying for four days leading up to the wedding!"
"Oh, I see," Lian said casually, taking a slow sip of milk. Then, the words processed. He choked violently, milk spraying everywhere as he doubled over coughing.
"W-Wh-WHAT?!" he wheezed, his face turning bright red.
Sarah rushed over, thumping him on the back with a worried expression. "Geez! Why are you so shocked? Didn't your father tell you yesterday?"
"NO! HE DEFINITELY DIDN'T!" Lian yelled, gasping for air. "Are you guys trying to give me a heart attack? Why do you always drop these bombs on me at the last second?! Holy cow, give me a break!"
Hearing the shouting, Daniel came running in from the yard. "Oi! What's all the yelling for this early? Did the bedbugs bite you again?"
"Dad! Why didn't you tell me they were coming today?!"
Daniel stopped, scratching his head with a confused look. "Didn't I? Huh. Must've slipped my mind."
"Honey, it's fine," Sarah soothed, though she looked just as stressed. "Just go get ready. Look at you—your hair is a mess and your glasses are crooked. Go be a man and welcome your bride."
"I can't—I'm not—my legs are literally shaking, Mom!" Lian was spiraling. The abstract idea of a "wife" had just become a very real person who was currently in a car headed for his front door.
Daniel laughed, a booming sound that made Lian flinch. He slapped his son's shoulder, nearly knocking his glasses off his face. "That's just the excitement, boy! Go wash your face. Show that city girl what a real Mistwood man looks like! Hohoho!"
Lian couldn't take it. He bolted back upstairs, slammed his door, and grabbed his phone with trembling hands. He dialed a number, praying his friend would pick up.
"You better have a valid reason for calling me at 6:00 AM on a Sunday, man, or I am going to murder you," Milo's groggy, annoyed voice crackled through the speaker.
"They're coming to my house. Today. She is coming. What do I do? Milo, I think I'm going to pass out," Lian hissed into the phone.
"Woah, woah, slow down, mate. Who's coming?"
"Uncle Martin and his daughter! My... my future... w-wife?" Even in his state of panic, Lian felt a heat creep into his cheeks as he said the word.
"The fuck?!" Milo was suddenly wide awake, the sound of him sitting up abruptly hitting the mic. "When did you find out?"
"Ten minutes ago!"
"Dude, your life has more sudden twists than a flop mystery novel. That's insane."
"I know! Just tell me what to do! I'm not ready for this. Look, I've met girls before, but this is different. I feel like I'm going to explode. I haven't even seen her yet, so why am I like this?!"
"Calm down, darling," Milo said, his voice dropping into a mock-calm tone. "Take a deep breath. In... and out. Do it with me."
Lian obeyed, taking a shaky breath. "Okay. Fine. I'm breathing."
"Good. You're not going to die, alright? it's just nerves. You're fine. Just be cool. Don't overthink it, and for the love of God, try not to poop your pants."
"Not helping, Milo! I'm seriously not ready to face her today."
"Lian, you're four days away from the wedding. If you aren't ready to see her, how are you ready to marry her?"
"I don't know man! I just... I need at least a day to mentally prepare myself for the first encounter. I need an excuse. I need to get out of the house so I don't have to meet them the second they step out of the car."
Milo went silent for a second, then a devious tone returned to his voice. "Alright, alright. I've got a plan. Listen close..."
After a few minutes of whispering, Lian let out a breath of relief. "Fantastic. We'll go with that."
"Yup! But if this blows up in your face, don't blame me."
"Got it. You're a lifesaver."
Lian stared at his phone for a second after the call ended, his heartbeat still refusing to settle down. Milo's plan echoed in his head, sounding both brilliant and completely ridiculous at the same time but right now, ridiculous was better than facing his future wife at the front door.
"Okay… okay, this is fine," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair before taking a deep breath. "Just say it confidently. If you sound confident, they won't question it."
He didn't fully believe that. Still, he rushed downstairs anyway, nearly missing a step in his hurry.
"Mom! Dad!" he called out, trying to sound urgent without sounding insane. Sarah turned immediately, startled by his tone. "What happened? Why are you yelling?"
Lian bent slightly, pretending to catch his breath, adding just enough drama to sell it. "It's Ron," he said quickly. "Something's wrong. He just called me…he's in trouble."
Daniel frowned, stepping closer. "What kind of trouble?"
Lian hesitated for half a second. Then committed.
"He got bitten by a snake."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Sarah blinked. "A… snake?"
"Yes," Lian nodded rapidly, doubling down. "A big one. Like…not a normal one. A dangerous one."
Daniel's eyebrows slowly lifted. "Since when are there dangerous snakes around here?"
"There are always snakes!" Lian shot back immediately. "You just don't see them because they're snakes!"
That did not sound convincing.
"And he called you instead of an ambulance?" Daniel asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.
"He trusts me! I'm his best friend! I have to go!" Lian was halfway to the door before he could be questioned further.
"I'll go with you," Daniel offered, reaching for his keys.
"NO!" Lian yelped, then quickly lowered his voice. "I mean... you can't. Martin Uncle is literally about to pull up. It'll look terrible if the head of the house isn't here to greet them. I'll go, check on him, and come back as fast as I can."
Daniel stared at him, his eyes narrowing behind his own set of glasses. "What kind of snake was it, Lian?"
Lian's brain stalled. "Uh... a long one?"
"A long one," Daniel repeated flatly.
"Yeah. Long. And... really fast. And angry. Very angry snake, Dad. I gotta go!"
Lian slipped out the door and sprinted down the driveway before his father could say another word. Once he was a safe distance away, he ducked behind a row of trees and leaned against a trunk, clutching his chest.
"I cannot believe they bought that," he whispered, his phone buzzing in his pocket.
Milo: You alive?
Lian: I'm out. I told them a fast, angry snake got Ron.
Milo: ...A snake? Really? Whatever, get to the lake. We're already here.
Inside the house, Daniel stood by the window, watching the empty road. "That boy," he muttered.
"You think he was lying?" Sarah asked, worriedly twisting her apron.
Daniel sighed. "Something is definitely full of shit, and it isn't the snake. But we can't leave now. Martin will be here any second." He shook his head. "If I find out he's just hiding under a bush somewhere, I'm going to skin him."
The drive to Mistwood was long enough for silence to settle in naturally.
At first, Valary didn't bother looking outside. She leaned her head against the window, scrolling through her phone until the signal started cutting in and out, eventually disappearing completely. That alone annoyed her enough to make her look up.
The city had already disappeared behind them.
In its place, the road stretched forward under a canopy of tall trees, their branches arching overhead like they were closing the world off from everything else. Sunlight slipped through in soft patches, moving across the car as they drove.
Valary frowned slightly, watching it.
"…it's quieter than I expected," she said without thinking.
Martin glanced at her, a faint smile forming. "You expected it to be dead?"
"I expected it to be boring," she corrected.
"It is boring," he said lightly. "That's the good part."
She didn't reply, but her eyes stayed on the window now.
As they drove deeper, Martin began pointing things out, almost casually at first.
"That hill over there…we used to race up that every evening. Your mother always cheated."
Valary glanced in that direction briefly, then back at the road.
"And that old bridge," he continued, nodding ahead, "we used to sit there for hours doing absolutely nothing. Thought we were very deep back then."
Despite herself, Valary listened. He didn't notice it at first, but she wasn't interrupting anymore.
"And the lake…" his voice slowed slightly, "it's not far from here. That's where her spot is."
Valary turned her head a little more this time. "The one you said only you knew about?"
"Yeah."
"…and now me," she said quietly.
Martin smiled. "Yeah. Now you." For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
Valary looked back out the window, but this time, she wasn't just looking…she was taking it in. The greenery, the open space, the way everything felt… still. It wasn't suffocating like the city. It was the opposite.
And that confused her.
"…it doesn't feel real," she murmured.
"It does," Martin said. "You just forgot what this kind of place feels like."
When they finally arrived at the house, the warmth hit before anything else.
The drive to Mistwood was a slow descent into a different world.
Valary had spent the first hour scrolling through her phone, but as the bars dropped from four to two, then to a single, flickering dot of 'No Service,' she finally tossed the device into the cup holder with a groan. "Great. Absolute fucking isolation. Just what I wanted."
She looked out the window, expecting to see a gray, dusty wasteland. Instead, she saw green. Deep, vibrant, suffocating green. The trees arched over the narrow road like a tunnel, and the air coming through the vents smelled like damp earth and pine.
"It's... quiet," she admitted, her voice losing its edge for a second.
Martin smiled, steering the car around a sharp bend. "You expected a construction site?"
"I expected it to be boring," she corrected.
"It is boring," Martin agreed. "That's the luxury of it. No one wants anything from you here, Val."
She didn't respond, but she didn't look away, either. Martin started pointing out landmarks—racing up hills as a kid, a bridge where he'd spent hours doing nothing. Valary listened, watching the way the sunlight flickered through the leaves. It didn't feel like the city. The city felt like a cage; this felt like a void. It was confusing.
When they finally pulled into the driveway of a charming, wooden-clad house, the door flew open immediately. Sarah stepped out, her face glowing with a warmth that made Valary feel suddenly very exposed.
"And this must be Valary," Sarah whispered, her eyes shining as she looked at the girl. "Oh, my heart... you look just like her."
Valary stiffened. She hated being a ghost of someone else.
"Welcome home, dear," Sarah added, pulling her into a soft, maternal hug that smelled of flour and lavender.
Inside, the house was the opposite of the mansion. It was small, warm, and crowded with life. Laughter bounced off the walls as Daniel and Martin embraced like long-lost brothers. Valary sat where she was told, sipping water and feeling like an alien.
The elders talked about her mother…how she used to laugh, how she'd sit exactly where Valary was sitting now.
"You even have her eyes," Sarah said gently.
Valary stiffened slightly at that, unsure how to respond.
"Welcome, dear," Sarah added quickly, pulling herself back. "Come in, come in."
Daniel greeted Martin loudly, pulling him into a hug while laughing like no time had passed between them. The energy was overwhelming in a way Valary wasn't used to…too open, too easy.
Inside, the house felt smaller than she expected.
Not messy. Not uncomfortable.
Just… close.
Voices carried easily, laughter filled the space, and everything felt connected in a way that made her feel out of place.
She sat where they told her to sit, responding when spoken to, but her attention drifted constantly. The elders talked about her mother, about how she used to laugh, how she used to argue, how she used to sit in the same places Valary now occupied.
"You even have the same eyes," Sarah said warmly.
Valary forced a small smile. "That's what everyone says."
Her fingers tapped lightly against her knee as she half-listened to the conversation, her thoughts elsewhere.
She picked up a glass of water just to have something to do.
"So," Martin asked, looking around the room as the tea was served. "Where's the groom? I'm dying to see how much he's grown."
The room went slightly stiff. Daniel cleared his throat, looking everywhere but at Martin. "Ah... Lian had a bit of an... 'emergency.' A friend in trouble. He'll be back soon, I'm sure."
Valary's lip curled in a tiny, cynical smirk. She leaned back, tapping her fingers against her glass.
Didn't even bother showing up, she thought, a spark of genuine hatred for this "Lian" lighting up in her chest. The village freak is a coward.
At the same time, far from the house, Lian lay stretched out under a tree, staring up at the sky while Ron tossed small stones nearby and Milo leaned back against the trunk, completely relaxed.
"I'm telling you, this was the right move," Lian said, though he didn't sound fully convinced.
"Yeah, running away from a girl. Very 'manly' of you," Ron snorted.
"I didn't run away. I just… delayed the situation."
"That's literally the same thing." Milo didn't even open his eyes. "He's going to panic the moment he sees her anyway."
"I will not," Lian said quickly.
"You choked on milk," Ron reminded him.
"That was unrelated."
"Sure it was."
Lian groaned, covering his face with his arm. "I just needed one day, okay? Just one day to prepare myself mentally."
"For what?" Milo asked. "You're getting married, not going to war."
"…feels the same right now," Lian muttered.
Ron laughed. "You're done for."
Lian didn't even bother to defend himself. He just closed his eyes, let out a long breath, and made a decision. "Fine. Just let me hide out here for today. Tomorrow, I'll go home like nothing happened and face her. Is that okay with you two?"
Milo shrugged, already closing his eyes again. "Yeah, whatever, man. It's your funeral. Do what you want."
But for some reason, even as he lay there in the quiet shade, Lian felt a strange pull in his chest…a sense that the gears of his life had already started turning in a direction he couldn't control. The day wasn't going to end the way he'd planned.
Back at the house, Valary sat amidst a suffocating cloud of hospitality she didn't understand, her blood boiling at the thought of a man she hadn't even laid eyes on yet.