The wedding hall was filled with a suffocating silence. In front of the ornately decorated altar, the scent of heavy, expensive perfume clung to the bride's garments standing beside me, weighing down the air. Through the layers of silk, I could see the bride's slender shoulders trembling slightly.

I slowly reached out and grasped the red veil covering her face. The texture of the veil against my fingers was chillingly smooth. Hundreds of guests held their breath, watching this moment.

When I finally lifted that thin barrier, I couldn't help but stop breathing. What was revealed beneath the veil was not the delicate feminine curves I remembered.

A neatly closed mouth, a straight bridge of the nose, and long, sharp eyes. A man with an undisguised bone structure and excessively clear eyes was staring straight at me. Silence consumed the hall. Just as the panicked officiant's gaze began to wander, the man dressed as a bride spoke.

The low, plain voice broke the silence of the hall sharply. The murmurs of the shocked guests washed over us like a wave.

Only then did the situation become clear. The bride had fled, and to prevent the family's ruin, her brother had donned the silk robes and stood at the altar himself. Not to deceive me, but bearing the massive burden of family honor alone.