"I'll Trade Damian For Her"

Even though this was a re-enactment of their wedding, they were still expected to follow tradition and hold a proper ceremony.

On the eve of the wedding, Evangeline returned to the Montgomery estate, only to be stunned into silence by the transformation of her childhood home.

"Mom? What’s with all the flowers?"

Marilyn Montgomery lifted her chin with maternal pride. "One hundred thousand roses, one hundred thousand lilies. It symbolizes perfection and a life of smooth sailing. Romantic, isn't it? I prepared it all just for you."

"It's... incredibly romantic."

Before Evangeline could take it all in, her mother continued, gushing with excitement. "I’ve hidden tiny LED lights beneath the blooms. Wait until tonight; I’ll turn them on for you. It’ll be a total surprise."

She then pulled Evangeline into the living room. It was decked out in streamers and balloons, with wedding portraits displayed everywhere. The coffee table was groaning under the weight of wedding favors, dates, longans, and peanuts—all traditional tokens of prosperity.

"My sweet girl, I know these decorations might feel a bit old-fashioned, but they carry such good fortune and festive energy. I’ve tidied up your room, too..."

Evangeline followed her mother, listening to the familiar, rambling chatter. A lump of soft, heavy emotion welled up in her chest. An indescribable feeling surged, and before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face.

"Mom, I love you so much."

Marilyn, who had been holding back her own emotions, finally broke. The mother and daughter collapsed into each other’s arms, weeping.

"Am I just realizing this now? You’ve already got your marriage certificate, and you’re already expecting... why does it feel like I’m finally letting my daughter go only now?"

"I feel the same way."

Perhaps only a woman understands that a wedding is the true key that unlocks the door to marriage. Without this ritual, a marriage license is merely a piece of paper.

After composing themselves, Marilyn led her upstairs. "Come, your father and I prepared something else for you."

The room was draped in traditional wedding reds. Evangeline brushed her hand over the silk bedding, a flush of shy, bridal color rising to her cheeks.

"This is for you to keep as your own security," her mother said, thrusting a thick envelope of legal documents into her arms.

"Mom, I don't need this, I have my own money."

"You are our only daughter; this will be yours eventually anyway. Besides, it’s better to have your own assets held firmly in your hands. Don't be naive and rely entirely on a man, understand?"

"Mom, Marcellus, he..."

"Hush now, just listen to your mother."

Marriage is a high-stakes gamble. She knew Marcellus wouldn't let her lose, but her mother just wanted to ensure she had an exit strategy. Evangeline stopped resisting and nodded. "Okay, thank you, Mom."

Seeing her accept the gift, Marilyn finally beamed. They spent the rest of the evening sharing heart-to-heart secrets. Evangeline pulled out the wedding gown she had prepared a year ago, stroking the fabric with hopeful eyes. Perhaps it was the pre-wedding jitters, but she was incredibly sentimental today, her eyes reddening once more.

Marilyn sat beside her, gently tracing her daughter’s features with a bittersweet expression. "Don't cry. You won't look pretty tomorrow if your eyes are all puffy."

Evangeline leaned against her mother’s shoulder. "Mom, I’ve been waiting for this day for so long."

"My sweet girl, you will be happy."

"I will! I’ll be happy!"

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She was saying it for her mother, but she was also saying it for herself.

After dinner, Marilyn covered her eyes and led her into the courtyard, full of mystery. "Ta-da! Do you like it?"

Evangeline finally saw the surprise. The red roses and white lilies were arranged to create a silhouette that, when lit, projected onto the courtyard wall. It was the outline of her own profile, laughing.

"Mom, this is so romantic! You’re so creative!"

"Of course I am!"

Mr. Montgomery, standing nearby, couldn't grasp why this was so exciting. "This is romantic? More than cars or jewelry?"

Marilyn rolled her eyes. "What would you know?"

"Dad, it seems your gifts never quite hit the mark with Mom," Evangeline teased.

Mr. Montgomery looked at his daughter, genuinely perplexed. "So, what kind of gifts do you women actually like?"

"The ones where you put in some thought."

"But I put a lot of thought into picking them!"

Evangeline shook her head helplessly. "Classic man-logic."

"Alright, sweetie, ignore him. Get some rest so you’re in peak condition for tomorrow."

"Okay, I’m heading up."

At five in the morning, a knock echoed against Evangeline's door. *Thump, thump, thump.*

"Wakey-wakey!" It was Remi Crawford’s voice. Evangeline rubbed her sleepy eyes and opened the door.

"So early?"

"Early? We’ve got less than six hours until the auspicious hour! You still need hair and makeup. Get up!" Remi pinched her cheeks to wake her up.

"Fine, fine, I’m up."

She stumbled toward the bathroom. She’d been too excited to sleep properly; it felt like she’d only caught ten minutes of shut-eye. Once she finished, the makeup artist went to work, and Evangeline used the downtime to squeeze in a few more moments of sleep.

Two hours later, finished and dressed in her gown, Evangeline looked at her reflection. "Remi, do I look okay?"

"Okay? You look like a goddess descended from the heavens!"

The stylist placed a diamond tiara on her head, adding a regal finish to the look.

"Evangeline, this tiara looks like an antique."

"It’s the tiara that belonged to the Duchess of Kent."

"Whoa... suddenly those diamonds look a whole lot shinier."

"Is it the charm of the crown, or the value?"

"Both! Definitely both!"

"You little gold-digger."

Down in the courtyard, a commotion started. Remi peeked through the curtains. A line of luxury cars stretched as far as the eye could see, and standing in front of the lead car was Marcellus, backed by dozens of men in identical black suits.

"My god! Your husband isn't here to pick up a bride; he’s here to take over the city!"

Evangeline peeked out, her eyes locking with his. She quickly drew the curtains, heart hammering, and sat back on the bed.

The Montgomery cousins guarding the door, who were already terrified of the legendary "Prince of Kyoto," saw the sheer scale of his entourage and immediately abandoned their post, throwing the gates wide open.

"Thank you for not making things difficult for me." His polite, chilling demeanor sent shivers down their spines.

"Wylder, pass out the red envelopes."

"Yes, sir!"

Remi was pacing in the bedroom, panicked. "What do we do? He’s coming up!"

*Knock, knock, knock.*

"Wife, I’ve come to take you home!"

Hearing Marcellus’s voice, Evangeline’s heart soared. Remi teased her, "Try to keep that 'desperate to be married' look off your face, would you?"

"Wife, open the door!" Marcellus urged.

Remi lowered her voice. "Mr. Alexander, your wife is in my hands. Hand over something precious to trade for her."

"My wife is the most precious thing I own. I suggest you pick something else, Ms. Crawford."

"Then, give me the second most precious thing."

Silence from the hall. Remi started to sweat—had she pushed him too far? What if he just turned around and left? She reached for the handle to open the door, but Marcellus spoke again.

"I’ll trade Damian for her."

"Pffft!" Evangeline burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

Remi was speechless: trading his best friend for her best friend? That was technically fair! She grudgingly unlocked the door, and there stood the "Ice King" with his best friend, Damian, standing right behind him.

Evangeline looked at him, her eyes misting over.

"My darling, I’ve come for you."

Marcellus took her hand and kissed it, their eyes locked in a silent, soul-deep vow. Even Remi was moved, leaning into Damian’s embrace as her own eyes welled up.

Marilyn entered, her eyes red, carrying a bowl of sweet, round rice balls. "My sweet, eat these before you leave. It signifies a life of sweetness and completeness."

Evangeline couldn't bear to look at her mother; she buried her face in the bowl and ate all six, seasoning them with her own salty tears.

"My treasure, I am so happy you found someone who truly loves you. May you be as inseparable as mandarin ducks, your hearts beating as one until the end of time..."

"Mom..."

Marilyn gently wiped away her tears. "Hush, no crying today. Only smiles."

"Mom, thank you for trusting me with her," Marcellus said, his voice unusually soft.

"You’re a good man. Go now, don't miss the hour. We’ll be right behind you."

"We will."

Marcellus lifted her into his arms, carrying her with steady, confident strides toward the waiting car.

After they left, Marilyn found her husband in the study, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Look at you! Your eyes are all swollen. You have to host the reception in a bit—how are you going to show your face?"

"I’m giving my daughter away! I’m allowed to cry!"

Looking at his tear-streaked face, Marilyn sighed and patted his back perfunctorily. "Fine, fine, cry it out. Just don't blame me if you miss the ceremony."

Mr. Montgomery straightened up instantly, grabbed a tissue, blew his nose hard, and wiped his face. "Let’s go."

"Wow, talk about a quick emotional recovery."

At the venue, the hall was a dreamscape of flowers and shimmering lights, with the soft, melodic notes of a cello drifting through the air. Today, Marcellus looked radiant, his aura softened, and he patiently chatted with the guests who dared to approach him.

When the time came, they exchanged vows and rings amidst the well-wishes of their guests. It was a sacred, perfect ceremony.

As the officiant declared, "You may now kiss the bride," Marcellus pulled her close.

"My darling, thank you for choosing me."

Evangeline’s tears fell. *The seeds of the past have blossomed into the fruits of today. Everything is transient, yet karma remains. Marcellus, in this life, we will—we must—be happy.*