The memory of a novel from my past life came rushing back to me, just before my wedding. In the story, the main character was warned that if she messed up her marriage, her husband would poison her. So, in a desperate attempt to avoid this fate, she kissed the pastor who was officiating the ceremony. As I leaned in to kiss the pastor, one of the holy knights approached us, shouting for the commander. Confused, the pastor asked what was going on. It turns out, the holy knight was addressing me as the commander of their order. But in that moment, all I could think about was Rurutia, the protagonist of the novel. She had risked everything to spend her last moments in a temple where she felt at peace. And even in the face of death, she managed to start a successful business with her friends. The holy knight was in awe, asking if I was a god who had descended to Earth. But I was too embarrassed by the attention and the weight of responsibility that came with it. The commander himself seemed to be acting strangely, perhaps under the influence of my unexpected actions. But all I wanted was to be with him, to be his wife. His obsession with me was evident in his shining eyes as he demanded that I take responsibility for stealing his first kiss. It all felt so wrong, yet somehow, I knew that I had changed my future.
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