Chapter 1
At the beginning of every story, there are always main characters... and then there are the others.
The ones who stand slightly to the side.
The ones who smile at the right moments.
The ones who exist-quietly-so the story can belong to someone else.
I have always felt like one of them.
An extra.
Perhaps it is because I know who I am...
or perhaps because I am still lost in the slow, endless process of trying to find out.
Either way, I have never mistaken my life for the kind written in books.
Those stories have endings.
Happy ones.
Clear ones.
Mine... does not.
I am simply living today, without knowing what it will become tomorrow.
Today, I am standing at a wedding.
My best friend's wedding.
I lean slightly against the window, watching the world outside instead of the room behind me. It is easier that way.
I am wearing a blue dress-simple, without a collar.
My heels match, soft against the polished floor.
My hair falls freely down my back, long, touched with a reddish brown glow, adorned only with delicate silver pieces.
My eyes are blue.
My skin carries the warmth of wheat under sunlight.
I am not beautiful.
But I am not ugly either.
Just like most of the background characters in the stories I used to read.
And that is what I am, isn't it?
The friend of the main character.
The one who exists to support, to listen, to smile at the right time-
and to fade when the moment no longer needs her.
"Cordelia."
Even thinking her name feels different today.
Today is her day.
Of course she is nervous.
Anyone would be.
She stands across the room, surrounded by light and attention as if both were made for her alone.
Her dress is white, threaded with fine silver embroidery, each detail stitched with precision. It was made in Paris-by one of the finest designers, they said.
It cost enough to buy a small house back in America.
That is the kind of world Cordelia belongs to.
A world of abundance.
Of certainty.
Her father is a wealthy merchant.
Her mother-if I remember correctly-owns a gold mine.
And somehow, despite everything...
she is still my friend.
Her hair is dark, falling softly around her face.
Her eyes are a gentle gray, almost too calm for a day like this.
Her skin rests somewhere between pale and warm, as if undecided.
Her lips-soft pink.
And her eyes...
They have that shape.
Sharp. Elegant.
We call them fox eyes.
She looks beautiful.
Of course she does.
She always does.
And for a moment-
just a moment-
I wonder what it must feel like...
to be the kind of person a story chooses.
Of course, she is the main character.
She is always the main character.
Even her husband is a lord from London-
George McLanister.
Blond hair. Blue eyes. Tall. Handsome in a way people are expected to admire.
But not my type.
Cordelia loves him deeply.
Completely.
From the very beginning.
---
Their story began this summer.
They met in Lux Garden-a place that looks as if it was designed for love stories to begin.
She dropped her handkerchief.
Or at least... that is what everyone believes.
But I think-
she dropped it on purpose.
---
After that, they met again.
And again.
And again.
Until now.
Until this wedding.
---
I won't lie to you.
I don't like George McLanister's family.
Not at all.
They are not good people.
And yet-here they are.
Not attending the wedding.
At least, not on time.
Or maybe... not attending at all.
---
Honestly?
This was expected.
People like them are greedy.
They care more about wealth than about love.
And Cordelia's family has both.
---
The problem is-
if George does not arrive within ten minutes...
this entire wedding could fall apart.
---
And more than that-
Cordelia is pregnant.
---
I don't usually support that kind of situation before marriage.
But sometimes-
things happen.
And this time... it did.
---
Ten minutes passed.
Cordelia began pacing.
Left.
Right.
Left again.
Her nerves were written all over her face.
I tried to calm her.
"He will come," I said softly.
"He has to come."
---
Then I looked toward the window.
And there he was.
---
George.
Running.
Late-but rushing toward the church as if the world depended on it.
---
Of course he arrived.
That much was expected.
And with that-
Cordelia's day was not ruined.
---
At least... not completely.
---
As for me?
My sister, my friends, and I...
we were present.
We were "important."
Or at least-people said we were.
---
My role today?
To scatter flower petals.
To carry the rings.
To stand there...
and look like part of the scene.
---
In reality?
I felt like decoration.
Like background.
Like someone who exists so others can shine.
---
And maybe that's why-
I said it earlier:
They are the main characters.
And I am not.
Because no one is looking at me.
Not really.
---
And now-
the kiss.
---
The bride and groom stood together.
George and Cordelia.
Finally.
Together.
---
They kissed.
---
Then I handed them the rings.
Simple.
White gold.
No decoration.
No extravagance.
Just... pure.
---
And then-
applause.
Cheering.
Smiles everywhere.
---
"The newlyweds!"
someone shouted.
---
And me?
I exhaled slowly.
Finally.
---
From one side-
my mother fixed my hair gently and whispered:
"You are my favorite daughter."
---
And from the other-
something tightened inside my chest.
Not pain.
Not happiness.
Something quieter.
Something I could not name.
---
My friends.
My sister.
Us.
We all stood there.
---
And we smiled.
---
Because that is what extras do.
---
And just like that...
we continued.
---
We followed them in carriages.
Through the quiet streets.
Past the city.
Until we reached the ship.
The one that would take them away.
---
Cordelia stood there, dressed as a bride...
but already stepping into a new life.
---
I said goodbye.
---
And for the first time-
a tear fell from my eyes.
---
She smiled at me gently.
"Live happily," she said.
---
Before we left...
George spoke.
He promised that he would invite us all.
To the London gathering.
At the start of the season.
---
A celebration.
A beginning.
---
I hugged Cordelia.
Tightly.
---
Then, one by one-
we all hugged each other.
Not as an ending.
But as a beginning.
---
A wife.
A new life.
And a child on the way.
---
They boarded the ship.
---
The doors closed.
---
And then-
the ship moved.
---
I stood there.
Watching.
Waving my hand.
Until the ship became smaller...
and smaller...
until it disappeared into the horizon.
---
Everyone else began to leave.
But I stayed.
Just a little longer.
---
Then I returned home.
---
There was work to be done.
Cleaning.
Preparing.
Taking care of what was left behind.
---
It should have been the servants' duty.
But I don't believe in that kind of suffering.
---
Yes-we pay them.
But they are still human.
They have feelings.
They have lives.
---
I may not come from an ancient noble family.
Our wealth may be new.
But I know one thing:
No one deserves to be treated poorly.
---
I am someone who does not care about titles.
Or money.
Or status.
---
What matters to me...
is the essence of a person.
The essence of a person is something valuable.
Even the ugliest people... have a soul worth seeing.
You just have to look beyond the surface.
Beyond the face.
Beyond what is obvious.
---
My mother always says that I should find someone who can give me a comfortable life.
A life of ease.
A life without struggle.
---
But I think...
love is a myth.
At least in my world.
A word people use... but don't truly understand.
---
And yet...
maybe it exists.
Maybe somewhere out there-
someone is capable of something like that.
---
Who knows?
Maybe one day...
I will fall in love.
---
I am only seventeen.
---
My thoughts are still shallow.
Still young.
Still incomplete.
---
But in the future...
when I fight more battles...
when I grow...
maybe I will become more than this.
---
Until then-
I will simply enjoy my home.
---
Or rather...
my mother's mansion.
---
A place she calls a palace.
A place she takes pride in.
A place that shines with her standards.
---
And my sister...
who I sometimes believe is the goddess of beauty herself.
Like Aphrodite.
---
She walks through the house as if the world was designed for her.
Effortless.
Flawless.
Unreachable.
---
And me?
I simply exist beside them.
Watching.
Learning.
Thinking.
---
And trying...
to understand the world... one truth at a time.
---
Is truth really real?
Or is it just an illusion...
something shaped by the perspective of others
to convince us that it is the truth?
---
I wonder...
Is what we call "truth" even real?
Or is it simply something we have been taught to believe?
---
There is something inside me.
A secret.
I carry it quietly.
---
And I have hidden it-
because I know.
If I ever spoke it aloud...
it would destroy everything.
---
Sometimes...
truth feels like a lie we create ourselves.
A lie we design carefully...
to protect the people we care about.
---
We tell them we are fine.
We smile.
We act as if everything is okay.
---
But inside...
we are breaking.
---
And no one will ever know.
Because I smile at everything.
Always.
Even when I am not okay...
---
