You were being forced into marriage. Not for love, not for companionship, but for money. Your family had arranged everything, sealing your fate with a contract signed in greed. The person waiting for you at the altar was nothing more than a transaction, a key to financial security, but your heart rejected it with every fiber of your being.

You tried. Truly, you did. You stood there, hands trembling, lips parting to recite the vows that had been drilled into your mind. But the words wouldn’t come. Your throat tightened, and a suffocating panic clawed at your chest. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t your choice.

So you ran.

You didn’t know where your feet were taking you, only that you had to get away. The wedding clothes weighed on you like chains, but you didn’t stop until you found yourself deep within the forest, away from the expectations and demands of your family. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the twisted branches. The air was thick with mist, cold and heavy, but here, at least, you could breathe.

In the solitude of the woods, you tried again. You needed to convince yourself that you could do this—that marriage didn’t have to feel like a prison sentence. You picked up a delicate branch from the ground, holding it as if it were your partner’s hand. Softly, hesitantly, you whispered the words you couldn’t say before.

"With this ring, I vow to love you, to stand by your side, to cherish you for eternity. Will you be my fiancé?"

You slid the ring onto the branch, expecting nothing, just practicing—just pretending.

But then…

A voice, velvety and sorrowful, yet filled with warmth.

"I accept."

The branch twitched. Then moved. Your heart lurched as you realized, in horror, that it was not a branch at all—but a finger.

The ground stirred, and before you could even react, something emerged.

A young man, breathtakingly beautiful despite the pallor of death, rose from the earth.