After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World-Chapter 1406: Octavia’s Departure

A few hours later, Octavia’s departure had finally arrived. The entire time, she was kept inside her room, given medicine and treatments to make her into her most beautiful, sublime self.

At this time, she was being dressed and arranged, looking blankly in front of her as if without much thought.

"Master Piddes is the Lord’s oldest son," her head maid, Trea, said as she arranged her hair for her. "You will have a good marriage—much, much, better than others. People will envy you."

"Hmn," she just said, completely noncommittal. She just stared at herself in the metallic mirror, eyes devoid of much life.

Her other maid, Esstia, looked at her in pity, but did not say anything, just silently fixing the details for her, making sure she was as beautiful as she could be.

At this time, Octavia was already ’fixed’ by a healer and there was no mark of the bruises or blood not too long ago.

She was getting dressed and would be sent to the array with several servants. Her father would also be there, along with his favorite wife, to attend her wedding.

Knowing them, they would be there to close deals and form networks, probably not giving her another look after selling her off.

There, she would be sent to perform the other place’s traditional wedding, which was not much, at least for the woman.

The ceremony in Hassen was only grand in the sense that the decorations were lush and excessive. Hassen City’s main industry was metallurgy, and they made use of a lot of these expensive materials to show off their wealth.

However, in terms of meaning, it was too lacking. It was simply an exchange of shallow vows and drinking of an alcohol mixed with a Love Potion, designed to work after an hour...and would last 3 days.

As the bride, she would be sent straight to the chamber after the ceremony to await her fate. In contrast, her husband would arrive after socializing for a bit.

In terms of timeline, the bride would have to drink wine laced with love potion too, as soon as she arrived at the chambers. This was to ensure the bride was desperate for touch by the time the husband arrived at the bridal chambers.

This was designed not for the comfort of the bride, but solely for the man’s enjoyment.

When he arrived, the wife would be fully expected to serve him to the best of her ability, ideally filled with desperation. The standard of a marriage’s success would be how many times the man climaxed. No one cared about the bride.

Octavia’s eyebrows furrowed and she grabbed the hem of her skirt.

This was far from how she imagined her wedding would go.

For decades, she—like many other girls— had an image of what her wedding would be.

The Bleulle Wedding was one of the most romantic weddings in the world.

The practice was primarily credited to Zaol Gold, and many people went to followed the trend.

Before the change, the ceremony was similar to Hassen’s with some minor differences. For instance, instead of a drink, there would be a flavored hard bread spiked with the love potion. The husband and wife would cut it in half, and they would eat it together.

This changed when, more than 40 years ago, Zaol made his own ceremonies to court and honor his wife.

He made a procession heading from his home to the venue, listing down why he chose her, and why she would not regret choosing him. He was loud, very loud, and he made sure everyone in the territory knew of of his feelings for her.

Then, during the wedding itself, they exchanged heartfelt vows. They were not too long, but they were deeply meaningful. No sentence was wasted. Instead, each one was filled with emotion.

Anyway, that wedding triggered all the romanticism that had been latent in the territory.

Since then, it had become a tradition for weddings in Bleulle. Even the poorer folks, and even if the venues were just their own homes, the key elements that Zaol had started were there, with some variances here and there.

For instance, the procession could just be from a park heading to the man’s humble home, and perhaps there would only be a few handful of guests. However, the vows would be no less heartfelt.

Even the people in the slums would have their own version.

For her generation, this was the norm and the standard wedding and she—along with any other Bleulle woman—couldn’t imagine experiencing less for their wedding day.

But look at her now? The her from 10 years ago would not have been able to imagine her state like this, dragged to marry a disgusting man, mind muddled, and her body weakened by medicine her own father sent her.

She had always admired Orion even when she was a child and she always thought that it would be great if he were her husband. She heard from her father that Orion would be his ideal son-in-law, and because he was relatively close to the family, it was likely that they would be wed.

However, decades passed by, and there was no news of a proposal.

He was always aloof and polite with her, but she believed in time he would soften up him up with her. There were no other women around him, anyway, and she thought all she needed was time.

When she saw those women stuck in pitiful marriages, living sad lives, and then compared them to her aunt Gaia’s, she always believed her life would be like the latter, especially when they used to be so close.

Who’d have thought: That Hilda, who was sent by distant relatives to become her maid, would capture that man’s heart instead?

What did Hilda have that she did not? She always found herself asking this question, ignoring the mistakes she only had herself to blame for.

In any case, she was left no time to ponder on her life choices anymore, as a few servants arrived.

"It’s time to go, Miss Octavia."

They were all wearing more formal wear now, bowing down in respectfulness—as if they weren’t sending her to her doom.

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