"It's gonna be fine," I told myself repeatedly, like a chant.
First morning.
No big deal.
The good news was that I was already quite familiar with all the elders. The bad news was that, somehow, I went from the youngest daughter-in-law to the oldest daughter-in-law.
Would they mind? I don't know. Did I care? Honestly, no—as long as it didn't directly affect me in any way.
I looked in the mirror one more time. Hair down. A blue dress—good enough?
No. The dress was too flowery.
I looked through the few clothes I had time to arrange again and picked a beige dress—no heavy design, modest in length, boring. Exactly the look I wanted.
As I was putting on my lipstick, a knock came.
"Come in," I said, expecting a maid.
Instead, I found Adrian standing in the doorway. Looking into his eyes through the mirror, a few embarrassing moments flashed by. As we locked eyes, my lipstick smudged a little.
Thankfully, just a little.
Taking my eyes off him, I quickly fixed it as he stood by the door.
I swear I'm going to sleep well from now on.
I made a silent vow, hoping never to wake up again holding him.
"Are you ready? Let's go downstairs for breakfast."
"Let's go," I said, preparing myself for the upcoming battle.
Big families always came with rules you only learned after breaking them. My mother learned that the hard way. My mom and dad had a love marriage, yet she struggled. She used to say she was fine, even when she wasn't. I didn't realize how much effort that took until years later.
As we walked toward the dining table, my mind supplied every possible outcome—most of them unpleasant.
A quick scan confirmed it—most of the important elders were here. I took my seat beside Adrian, and the questions started almost immediately.
And then—nothing happened.
Some small talk. Some warm welcomes. Some genuine curiosity.
That was it.
In fact, it felt quite anticlimactic. But I was glad. No mean words, no slights—just curious questions and a very simple breakfast.
I didn't know what I ate during breakfast due to my nerves. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn't enough, because my stomach grumbled the moment I came back to the room.
I tried to shift my focus from my growling stomach to the scattered pages in front of me. Adrian gave me the desk in his room to work at for now. He said we could move out in a month, once our wedding home was completely prepared. I'd have my own workroom there, so I just had to make do for now.
Honestly? It wasn't as bad as he'd made it sound. The room had direct sunlight, minimal furniture, and everything was neatly arranged. The only downside? Adrian could come in at any moment, and I didn't like people hovering while I worked.
Setting idle thoughts aside, I began rechecking the last few jewelry designs for the season. Once I sent those in, I would finally get a month-long break. Most designs had been revised countless times, yet one caught my eye amidst the scattered papers.
I held it up to the light, scrutinizing every detail. The proportions were clean. The setting was secure—but something felt… off.
A slight imbalance. Barely noticeable. Still unacceptable.
I reached for a pen and make a small note. This one will wait.
One by one, I singled out a few more designs that need refining.
Sighing, I put my glasses down and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes.
Making money wasn't easy… and I was extremely hungry.
Just as I was about to curse the universe, the faint aroma of freshly baked bread drifted through the air. I looked up to see Adrian coming toward me with a plate of food in one hand and tea in the other.
Huh. Didn't hear him come.
As the food came closer, I could have sworn I saw a halo over him.
What an angel—saving a starving damsel.
"You didn't eat much. I'm not sure if that's how much you usually eat, but you have to eat well to live well," he said, placing the plate and tea cup on the table.
The sight made me drool.
"Thanks. I couldn't eat much, honestly."
"Nervous?"
"A bit, I guess."
He pulled out a chair and sits next to me.
His gaze shifted from my scattered designs to my face.
I felt him move closer—just enough to be aware of him. His hand lifted, hesitated, then carefully pushed a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
His fingers were warm.
Too warm.
By the time I remembred how to breathe, his hand was already gone.
"Just relax. Everyone is very friendly. Besides, our house will be ready soon. We can move out in a few days."
I murmured a mindless "hmm," my thoughts still stuck on his touch.
"So what are you doing?" he asked , gesturing awkwardly at my designs.
"Just some work."
"They look really great. Can I have a look?" he asked, extending a hand.
"Sure."
I swear I had never felt this nervous about someone going through my designs. He was laser-focused, flipping through the pages, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.
Watching his eyes scrutinize my work, I tried to read his thoughts. Maybe he found them average. After all, he had been to many auctions—he must have seen far more exquisite designs.
My palms started to sweat, and I suppressed the urge to snatch the pages back.
"Are you done?" I asked impatiently. I had a lot of work to do, and he was slowing me down.
I also didn't want him to look too closely.
"Did you design all these yourself?" he asked, handing the pages back.
"No, I copied them from Pinterest."
A look of horror passed over his face.
Humorless guy.
"Relax. I'm kidding. Obviously, I designed them," I said, rolling my eyes.
He exhaled in relief and chuckled.
"It's going to take me some time to get used to your humor," he said, standing up.
Finally, he's leaving.
"Thankfully, we have a lot of time together for that," he added, whispering in my ear.
Again.
Does he have a thing for whispering?
I tried to get back to my work, but the tingling in my ears refused to fade.