8 Chapter 8: Curious Letter

Chapter 8: Curious Letter

The orange juice that my mall hero gave me was almost out of ice, but I didn’t want to drink it. It’s like as if I want the drink to stay as it is and last forever, or even just for tonight.

It was merely sitting on the top of the make-up stand. I stared at it for a few seconds until I realized that in about an hour, I will be meeting my future husband.

It’s so odd that I have been thinking of another man since our return instead of thinking of ways how to talk to the General.

Runi was brushing my hair, and I was powdering my nose.

I smiled from remembering the encounter we had at the mall. I didn’t know that my little detour at the mall would lead us to chasing a thief and getting saved by a strange man who knew how to catch a knife in between his fingers.

“Young Lady, should you wear the white hairpin that your mother gave you?” Runi asked.

I don’t know if it is her strange of way of getting my senses back to reality or if it’s a way for her to remind me of honoring my mother’s life by not getting killed myself. But my mother wore her white hairpin when she got engaged with my father. And I am not yet engaged to the General.

I stared at my mother’s engagement hairpin. It has strange engravings of ocean waves and fish scales. It looked so pretty that I could wear it right now, but I will choose not to until we’re officially engaged.

“Young Lady?”

I placed my powder down. “I don’t think I should wear a white hairpin yet, Runi. I am not yet engaged to the General. And who knows if ever we will really marry? The General has been to many places and met many state leaders while I have mostly resided in the country without the freedom to go out as I please. And…”

“And? What else is there, Young Lady?” Runi stopped combing my hair.

I turned to her. “Have you noticed how frightened Marcial seemed to be of the General?”

She nodded. “Yes. I always hear him that the General would have his head on a platter whenever he thinks he’ll do something wrong.”

I chuckled. “Exactly! I mean what if I displease him or something? He might cut off my finger and show it to everyone who dared to disrespect him!”

“But who else will protect you, Young Lady? If it isn’t the General? Could you think of someone else?” she asked as she went back to combing my hair.

Of course I could think of at least two men. The one who saved me from the fire who could be the same person who caught the thief and my childhood friend, Marcial.

But I’m not sure if marrying Marcial is a good idea. It’s odd to marry a childhood friend because you seemed so familiar to each other that you might as well be marrying a comfortable sweater.

And Marcial is different now.

I haven’t seen the man who saved me from the fire. All I had is my inaccurate memorization of the edges of his face and the feeling of his strong arms. And those are intangible marks of his existence. I don’t even know if he’s my age or if he’s older. I don’t know if he already got married either. If he is married then I wouldn’t want to break up a family. But since I don’t have a clue on who he is then I still got some hope that he could still be put there. And just like me, he could also be waiting for me.

All whose left for me to probably get me home to my father if the General would be displeased with me is…the man at the mall.

“What are you thinking, Young Lady?”

I grabbed the orange juiced and sipped from it. “Runi, can you get me some paper and a pen? I would write a letter to the man at the mall. I would like to thank him.”

“But Young Lady?”

“You’ll deliver it to him discreetly back at the mall, Runi,” I said.

“Young Lady…”

Runi is always skeptical to my schemes. But I don’t blame her especially for all the times back in my father’s mansion when we get caught and she usually takes the blame.

“I know that you would be discrete, Runi,” I said with a twinkle in my eye.

It may sound old-fashioned but writing a letter is a lost art that needs to be rekindled. Social media might make communication faster, but it lacks the intimate effort between people when it comes to writing their heart out on paper.

A few minutes later, Runi excused herself to deliver the letter I wrote for that man. I placed it inside an envelope with my insignia that my father created for me. He said that the seal gets respect from military and police personnel. She would tell the soldiers or Marcial that she’ll be buying me some medicine for my headache.

But this time, my father’s seal would not work because the General’s word is as good as gold here. No one dares to defy his orders.

A few minutes later, a soldier asked me to go out of the room because the General was already waiting at the Mess Hall. I swallowed a lump inside my throat.

I looked into the mirror. I haven’t prepared that much yet. I didn’t even wear a hairpin. I am merely wearing a strapless baby pink dress and pulled all of my hair up into a bun, leaving some strands to dangle at the sides.

Should I worry about my first impression toward the General in the long-term when I don’t desire for any affection between us?

I’m pretty sure that we are not each other’s type. I’m pretty sure that we’ll never get along either. I sigh. I wonder how a loveless arranged marriage would actually survive.