A Silent promise O.2

The grand ceremonial doors stood tall before her, carved with the emblems of the realm, shining under the golden lights of the hall. Maelin Elora stood behind them like a poised sculpture dressed in stars.

Her gown—hand-stitched with diamonds and rare crystals—glimmered with every tiny movement. The corseted bodice hugged her figure with a quiet authority, and the crystal-threaded veil draped behind her like a royal banner. She was elegance and opulence personified, the woman everyone whispered about in awe and fear.

“I’m ready,” she whispered to herself, gazing at her reflection in the polished metal of the door frame. “I’ve faced worse.”

But her heart knew better.

Beneath her perfectly painted lips and diamond lashes was a storm—tight, suffocating, relentless. Her breath hitched in her throat, not from the corset, but from the weight of uncertainty. This wasn't just a wedding. This was another transaction, another signature that bound her future to someone else’s decision.

A part of her, sharp and burning, snarled at the thought.

I won’t be caged again. Not by my father. Not by this man.

Yet when the doors opened, all her thoughts stilled.

There he was.

Elric Thorne.

She recognized him from the portraits, but in person… he was different.

He stood like a statue—tall, composed, cut from marble and shadow. His sharp features, sculpted and elegant, carried no arrogance. His eyes weren’t searching the crowd for approval. They were steady, dark, unreadable. And though he was surrounded by ministers and nobles, he looked alone. Not lonely. Just... apart.

Her pulse skipped.

He’s beautiful, she thought with reluctant surprise. Beautiful like a statue carved with patience. Like peace forged after war.

Her heel clicked softly on the marble as she began walking down the aisle.

Each step was smooth, but inside, her thoughts were chaos.

Don’t trip.

Don’t falter.

Look at him. Don’t look too long.

She could feel eyes on her from every direction. But hers stayed mostly on him.

When she reached him, he moved forward. Not in haste, not in hesitation—just silently, assuredly.

He held out his hand.

Maelin looked down. His fingers were slightly calloused. Not the hands of a man raised to sit behind desks. These were hands that had held weapons, painted canvases... and maybe once carried burdens no one saw.

She placed her hand in his.

She expected it to feel cold. Distant. But it was warm—rough, yes, but comforting in a strange way.

And then she braced herself.

Here it comes. The part where men claim something with a kiss.

But instead, Elric gently turned her hand and brought it to his lips—placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

She blinked.

What?

It was not the kiss of possession.

It was not the kiss of control.

It was... something else. A vow, perhaps. A silent one.

Before she could even process it, the sound of clapping snapped her back to reality.

She looked around, realizing the ceremony was moving on. The applause rose like a tide as the monarch declared the vows sealed. Elric extended his arm again, offering it with the same stillness that had defined every moment of his presence.

Maelin took it.

Not because she trusted him.

Not because she wanted to.

But because for the first time, someone had touched her without trying to own her.

As they walked together down the aisle—past glittering eyes and whispering mouths—Maelin wondered if silence could be more honest than any word ever spoken.

And if this silent man, with his rough hands and sculpted stillness, was truly as unreadable as he seemed—or if there was something buried deep within him, waiting to be discovered.

Whatever it was, Maelin decided one thing for sure.

She would not give up her fire.

But maybe... just maybe, she would allow herself to listen to the quiet between the flames.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***