And the accident had caused a memory loss, so Celestelle could only see a figment of her memories—it didn't help much.
She didn't know what she was about to get into and how she could cope with these changes, but she promised to try and get justice for the deceased Celestela.
Zachary got into a silver Mercedes, and Celestelle followed suit just like he had done. She didn't want to make her awkwardness be known to anyone. Thankfully, she knew how to maintain her composure in any situation because of the years she had spent on the battlefield, and the people she had ruled and guided.
As they left, the car was headed to the marriage office, where she could get her certificate as a married woman.
"Do you have your ID card with you?" Zachary's voice pulled her away from her jammed thoughts, and she was startled. Then she asked the question anyone could have found absurd.
"ID card? What's that?" Zachary stared at her face, which looked confused and clueless about it.
"National identity card," he elaborated, but Celestelle was still puzzled. In her past life, there was nothing like a national identity card. They didn't need something like that to identify their people.
Or was it what these rich people used? Do they wear it and it indicates power and influence? Is that what she needed to crush Celestela's enemies? she thought to herself.
"This national identity card you talked about—is that what says I have power and influence, and could make people watch me from above?" she asked eagerly, eyes sparkling like plain water.
Zachary felt like poking her head hard, opening it to see what was inside. Was it that she had never heard of it before? But then again, seeing the kind of person she was, he thought she had grown up in an orphanage and hadn't received any training. That was why she didn't know this—because even her English was twisted. Not wanting to deal with whatever she had next, he explained.
"The ID card represents you as a citizen, which includes your profile—like name, age, house address, national code, marital status, etc. It doesn't signify you have power, money or influence. Rather, it's needed, like now when you're about to get married, because they would have to look into your profile to see if you're the one on the profile photo, and also if—like—the marital status there says single, married, or divorced. If it's single, you can get married. If it's divorced, you can also get married. But if it says married, you can't—unless you provide a divorce letter that says you and the supposed spouse are divorced. Do you understand that?" Zachary asked.
Celestelle opened her mouth in an O shape. She had shot herself in the foot—he would think she was crazy now, or that she was some sort of novice or a clown.
"I don't have that," she mumbled under her breath.
Zachary stared at her for a while, then nodded. "We'll create one for you."
Minutes later, they arrived at the parking lot of the marriage office. Zachary got down first, then she followed suit. There was a long queue, and Zachary knew he couldn't wait. With his connection, he got in through the back door of the marriage office.
"I need a marriage certificate. And also, I want you to create an ID card," Zachary said.
The front desk immediately nodded her head, doing as he had asked. He was the president of Bridgette Industry, also an assistant to the most powerful business god. Rumor has it that they were god-brothers. Definitely, the man here was no small deal.
Minutes later, Celestelle's ID card was created. Then Zachary submitted Lucien's identity card. Soon enough, the marriage certificate was ready and would expire on the 12th of December next year. But if they didn't come back to finalize it when it expired, then they couldn't terminate it again unless going through the normal divorce process. And if they still didn't, it would then be a real marriage—but could really be legit if they came back to resign their signature in a given space below.
Celestelle didn't bother because she knew they wouldn't go through the normal divorce procedure or even come back to make the marriage legit. This was a fake marriage—only on paper. No love, no ring, no wedding, no family, no well-wishers. So it was what it was.
A civil photographer who was in charge of taking newly wedded couples' marriage registration photos approached Celestelle and Zachary, thinking they were both a couple.
"Ma'am, please come to the other room. That's where the photos are being taken," the photographer said, and Celestelle was puzzled. What does that mean? she thought.
She had almost asked, and then through Celestela's memory, she had seen a figment—when she had taken a photo on her five-year birthday, and the camera had flashed light, then it was printed into a sheet. It looked beautiful and unique.
Celestelle couldn't help but gasp. So that was what it was being called here—"photo," she thought. In her past life, there was nothing like this. If they ever wanted to be seen on a sheet, it was through a sketch, and it was exhausting and time-consuming before the sketch was done. Celestelle was truly hopeful, and she wanted to experience the feel of this one. But to her disappointment, Zachary intervened.
"We're not a couple, and there won't be any marriage photo," he said before walking away.
Celestelle decided to give up the thought. The marriage wasn't real after all, so it really wasn't necessary. In the future, she would get one done—just herself, she thought with a satisfied smile.
She held the marriage certificate in her hands, and it felt light that one pull could tear to pieces.
They left the office. Celestelle got into the car first this time, as she had experienced it before. Then she heard Zachary order:
"Take her….."