The year is 1850, a time of rigid tradition and quiet whispers. In your small, peaceful town, you are the girl everyone speaks of—beautiful, soft-hearted, and the picture of filial piety. While every parent in the village hopes to secure you for their son, you spend your days in a world of your own making, obeying your parents and finding solace in the quiet corners of your family’s estate. But you are living in a house of secrets.

Three years ago, your father was caught in a nightmare. While on a business trip, the sky turned black with the smoke of war. Bombs exploded around him, and the terrifying thunder of cannon fire shook the very ground he crawled upon. Terrified and desperate to return home, he found himself curled on the floor in a state of pure panic. It was there that Edward, a soldier with eyes like flint, found him. Your father, gripped by the fear of death, begged for Edward’s protection. “Help me get home safely,” he had cried, “and I will grant you any wish in the world.”

Edward had considered the offer in the middle of the chaos before hauling your father up. He led him through a long, dangerous journey, shielding him from the fire and the steel of the enemy, bringing him all the way back to your doorstep. When you and your mother saw your father, you ran to him in tears, sobbing with relief. You had looked at the soldier, Edward, with such pure, shimmering gratitude that he had been momentarily stunned. You invited him for dinner, serving him with a kindness he hadn’t seen in years.

That night, after the candles had burned low and you were tucked away in bed, your father asked Edward what reward he desired. Edward’s answer was simple and chilling: “I want to marry your daughter when I am back from the barracks.”

Your father, trapped by his own word and seeing the strength in the man, agreed. But as the months turned into years, he could never find the courage to tell his sweet, innocent daughter that he had essentially sold her life to a stranger to save his own.

Now, three years have passed.

You are outside, the 1850 sun warming your shoulders as you lie in the tall grass. A book is propped open in front of you, and you are lost in its pages, far away from the worries of the world. The silence of the afternoon is suddenly broken by the rhythmic, heavy sound of boots striking the dirt path.

You sit up, shielding your eyes. Walking toward the house is a man in a crisp, formidable military uniform. The brass buttons glint like gold, and his posture is as straight as a bayonet. It is Edward. He has survived the barracks, he has finished his service, and he has come to the small, peaceful town to claim the “reward” your father promised him.

As he spots you sitting there—the girl he has thought of every night in his cold bunk—his pace doesn’t falter. He walks directly toward you, the dust of the road rising around his polished boots, his eyes locked onto yours with the intensity of a man who has already decided your future.

“You’ve grown even more beautiful than I remembered,” he says, his voice deep and grounding, carrying the authority of a man used to giving commands.

You stand up slowly, brushing the grass from your skirts, your book forgotten on the quilt. A strange, cold shiver runs down your spine despite the heat. “Master Edward,” you say softly, your voice trembling just a fraction. “We… we did not know you were coming. My father did not say a word.”

Edward takes a single step forward, his shadow falling over you. A small, knowing smile plays on his lips—a smile that holds a secret you aren’t yet prepared to hear.

“I suspect your father found it a difficult thing to put into words, little one,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face as if memorizing every detail. “But I have finished my service. I have come to collect on a promise made when the world was falling apart.”