The amount of information was overwhelming for Minamoto Tamako to accept. She walked numbly forward, the butler pushing her shoulders from behind.
After returning to her room, a dozen attendants wheeled in racks of wedding dresses, surrounding Minamoto Tamako and displaying the dresses.
Each dress was exquisite; the floor-length ivory satin wedding dress, with a skirt that draped like solidified cream, had the bodice adorned with mother-of-pearl sakura blossoms, each petal's edge trimmed with silver thread, shimmering coldly under the lights.
Among them, Minamoto Tamako spotted a familiar wedding dress, seemingly the one worn by the bride at the music box chapel wedding.
The butler noticed her staring at it and called the maid to help her try it on. The butler left the room, closing the door for privacy as she changed.
Minamoto Tamako let the maids dress her, feeling a heavy emptiness in her chest, a sense of being lost and helpless.
