Luna stood there, fuming. Her chest rose and fell quickly, her hands still clenched at her sides. Her day had barely begun, and already, it was filled with anger, confusion, and questions she couldn't even answer herself.
Taking a deep breath to gather her composure, she turned and left the room.
Luna stepped into the softly lit drawing room of the Blackwood mansion, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. A smile bloomed on her face the moment she saw Grandma seated near the window, a delicate shawl wrapped over her shoulders. Luna walked over and gently clasped her hand.
"Good morning, Grandma," she greeted warmly.
Grandma's eyes crinkled as she returned the smile, her touch tender. "Ah, Luna, my dear. Don't feel bad. Xander had to leave early for work. He's been swamped lately. But don't worry—he'll definitely be there for the reception."
Luna nodded, her smile soft but genuine. "It's alright, Grandma. I understand."
Just then, the air shifted.
Mother Miley entered the room with sharp heels tapping against the marble floor, her eyes immediately locking on Luna. She paused, her gaze drifting over Luna's appearance—a simple yellow dress, flat shoes, and barely any jewelry. Disapproval settled like a cloud over her face.
She crossed her arms. "Go and change, Luna."
Luna blinked, startled. "Change? But... Aunty, I've already changed."
Mother Miley raised an eyebrow, lips tightening into a thin line. "Not Aunty. Mother," she corrected coldly.
A flicker of discomfort passed through Luna's expression. She swallowed, offering a small, forced smile. "Of course. Mother."
Mother Miley's eyes narrowed slightly as she walked further into the room and took a seat with an air of practiced elegance. "Do you really think you look like a newlywed bride in that outfit? Go and wear something more appropriate. Something that fits your new status."
Luna shifted, her voice calm but firm. "But Mother, this is how I usually dress. I feel more comfortable this way."
The older woman's jaw tensed. "Comfort?" she scoffed. "Forget your comfort. You're no longer just Luna. You're Xander Blackwood's wife now. You carry his name, his reputation. Do you want people to laugh behind his back because his bride showed up looking like... this?"
Luna's heart clenched, but she stood her ground, her voice quieter now. "But Mother—"
Before she could say more, Mother Miley abruptly stood, her expression hardening further.
"Whatever I say, you will do. That's it. No more arguments."
The room fell silent. Luna turned instinctively to Grandma, who gave her a small, understanding gesture—a slight nod and a warm smile that silently offered strength.
Taking a deep breath, Luna bowed her head slightly and turned toward the hallway. Her steps were quiet, but the weight in her chest was not.
Luna had finally changed into something elegant—a classy, beige dress that fell perfectly on her frame. She walked through the hall with grace, offering polite smiles and gentle greetings to the arriving relatives. The afternoon sun bathed the Blackwood estate in warm light as a professional makeup team arrived to prepare her for the reception.
By the time they were done, the backyard had transformed into a dreamlike setting. Blooms of fresh roses and orchids adorned every corner, and delicate string lights hung like stars above the guests. The reception was in full swing, with murmurs of admiration and clinks of champagne glasses floating through the air.
Luna stepped out, now dressed in a breathtaking red designer gown that hugged her perfectly and made her skin glow. She felt confident—finally like a bride. But as soon as she descended the steps into the garden, her eyes caught the expressions of Mother Miley and Grandma. Neither looked pleased.
Confused, Luna followed their gaze, only to find Dimple standing to the side, arms folded, a sarcastic smirk playing on her lips.
Luna decided not to react. Instead, she kept her chin high and made her way down to greet some guests, smiling as though nothing was wrong.
As she chatted with a couple near the floral arch, Mandy suddenly appeared beside her, leaned in, and whispered in her ear, "Luna, you need to go and change."
Luna stiffened. She blinked and turned to Mandy. "What? Why?"
Mandy hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "Just... not red. Don't wear red. Go change into something else."
Luna couldn't help the eye roll that escaped her. Her voice was hushed but tinged with frustration. "Why is this family so obsessed with what I wear?"
Luna, please don't ask questions. Just go," Mandy urged softly, glancing around nervously.
Luna frowned. "But red is my favorite color. What's wrong with it?"
At that exact moment, Xander appeared. His tall figure cut through the crowd, but his expression darkened the moment he saw her. His jaw clenched, and the tension in his shoulders was unmistakable.
The mood shifted again.
Luna felt her confidence waver. The warmth she'd been trying to hold on to began to slip away.
"Okay," she said quietly, her voice flat now. Without another word, she followed Mandy back into the house.
Perry met them halfway and offered to help. Luna glanced between them. "Can someone at least tell me what's wrong with the red dress?"
Neither answered. They just shared a lookand silently helped her change into a soft yellow gown—beautiful, yes, but not her. Not what she had chosen.
And again, Luna felt like she was playing a role in someone else's story.
Luna emerged from the dressing room, now clad in a stunning yellow gown that shimmered softly under the warm lights of the Blackwood mansion. She walked toward her parents, greeting them with a soft smile.
Mother Mary's eyes welled slightly with pride. She wrapped Luna in a warm embrace. "You look beautiful, my darling."
Before Luna could respond, Xander appeared by her side. "Come," he said, his voice even but his gaze unreadable. Together, they greeted the remaining guests. Though Xander smiled and nodded politely, Luna couldn't ignore the occasional cool glance he cast her way—watchful, distant, as if silently judging.
Just as Luna began to feel the pressure closing in, familiar voices called her name.
"Tiara!" Luna exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.
Tiara rushed over with their other friends, laughter and warmth following them. A performance by a group of professional dancers began, filling the space with rhythm and grace. The girls clapped, cheered, and finally, joined in.
Luna allowed herself to let go, even if only for a few moments. She danced alongside Tiara, her dress flowing like golden light around her. Laughter bubbled up in her chest, and for the first time that evening, her smile was real.
The night slowly came to an end. The guests left one by one, the music fading into silence. Only the Blackwood family remained now, the room echoing with the quiet stillness after a celebration.
Mandy, one of the maids, approached Luna cautiously. "Miss Luna, Madam Miley wishes to speak with you."
Luna's brows furrowed. "Why does she want to see me?"
But before she could gather her thoughts, a sharp sting exploded across her cheek.
A gasp rippled through the room.
Luna staggered slightly from the force of the slap, her hand flying to her face in shock. Her wide eyes met Mother Miley's, still burning with disbelief.
"How dare you wear red?" Mother Miley spat, her voice trembling with fury.
Luna blinked, stunned. "What? What's wrong with red?"
Mother Miley stepped forward, her expression filled with disdain. "And you danced! With those girls—in public. Are you trying to humiliate this family?"
Luna's lips parted, but no words came out. The accusations felt surreal, absurd. Her heart pounded against her ribs, not out of fear, but confusion and hurt.
Mother Miley turned without another word and disappeared into the hallway, her heels clicking like punctuation marks on cold marble.