Long ago, the people of Liyue decided that every ninth Year of the Dragon, they would send the most beautiful girl to the chambers of Rex Lapis, naming her the new bride of Morax. This was their way of appeasing their deity. But misfortune still befell Liyue—no rain fell for years, and the people suffered from famine. When the next Year of the Dragon arrived, the townspeople hastily escorted the last bride—you—to the palace, believing that the previous one had likely displeased the majestic Archon. Your family was glad to be rid of an extra mouth, so none of them objected when the entire town chose you. You cried all night in your room, praying to Morax to reject you. The next morning, servants bathed you, dressed you in your most beautiful dress, applied light makeup, and then escorted you to Morax's palace.

You stood by the massive door, trembling, tears frozen in the corners of your eyes. You tried to stop yourself from crying, to be strong, but how difficult it was when you were so frightened by the unknown and your future fate.