The palace bells tolled thrice—deep and cold.
The kingdom of Velanthis stood still.
Today, the tyrant king would take a bride.
But behind the silk veils and silver rings, there was no love.
Only duty. Power. And a girl who wore white like a funeral dress.
Evelyne’s chamber – Morning of the wedding
Feathers floated from the canopy above her as maids moved quietly around her.
Nysa
💬 “Hold still, my lady… the sacred veil must rest just below the crown of your head.”
Evelyne sat before the mirror, dressed in a gown of ivory silk and lavender embroidery. The veil shimmered like moonlight, held in place by delicate pins.
Her hands trembled only slightly.
Evelyne Astoria
🖤 (“This isn’t just fabric. It’s a cage.”)
🖤 (“And once the vows are said… I belong to him.”)
Nysa
💬 “You don’t have to hide how you feel.”
Evelyne Astoria
💬 “There’s no place for feelings in a royal wedding.”
Nysa
💬 “Still… I wish he could see you now. You look—”
A knock interrupted them.
Outside the room: Duke Astoria
The door opened to reveal Evelyne’s father, cloaked in dark blue and silver. His face was unreadable.
Duke Astoria
💬 “Leave us.”
Nysa bowed and stepped out.
Evelyne stood, unsure whether to speak.
Duke Astoria
💬 “You will walk into that cathedral like an Astoria. Proud. Silent. Obedient.”
Evelyne Astoria
💬 “Am I still your daughter?”
A long pause.
Duke Astoria
💬 “No. You are the king’s now.”
He left.
She didn’t cry.
Evelyne Astoria
🖤 (“Even if I scream… no one will hear me here.”)
🖤 (So I’ll stay silent. Until I learn how to make them listen.)
Elsewhere… from the high balcony of the tower chamber, Kaelith watched her window.
The king said nothing as his cloak caught in the breeze.
King Kaelith Ravenhart
💬 “She’s calm. Too calm.”
King Kaelith Ravenhart
💬 “Does she not fear me… or does she hide it better than the others?”
He turned away from the window, clenching his jaw.
King Kaelith Ravenhart
🖤 (“This is a mistake. A distraction. I should end it before it begins.”)
🖤 (So why can’t I look away?”)
Cathedral of Obsidian – Moments before the ceremony
Evelyne stood alone at the grand doors.
Velvet runners. Cold marble. A hundred watchful eyes beyond those doors.
Nysa
(whispering as she fastens Evelyne’s necklace):
💬 “Your hands are cold.”
Evelyne Astoria
💬 “I’m marrying a man colder than death.”
Nysa
💬 “Then perhaps you’ll melt him.”
Evelyne Astoria
🖤 (“Or be buried by him.”)
Trumpets began. The doors creaked open.
The kingdom waited.
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