Shhhrr.
The royal fashion designer slid Ariana's gloves upward as she carefully stitched bead-like embellishments to match the gown. Ariana stared at the completely different figure in the large mirror—someone transformed. She stared, wide-eyed, unable to believe it was her reflection. It was as if she had become someone entirely new.
Her golden-blonde hair was woven back into an elegant royal braid, with a few coiled strands softly framing her face. Gold hairpins shimmered, elevating the entire style. Her makeup was light, accentuating her almond-shaped eyes, delicate features, and rosy pink lips.
The dress was unlike traditional royal wedding attire—it resembled a ball gown, radiant in design. Rare, baritone-gold lines extended from the short sleeves down to her gloved hands. The gloves, which stopped at her elbows, were what the designer had been stitching, weaving elegance into every thread.
Golden powder sparkles rested gracefully on either side of her waist, perfectly complementing the flowing white gown. Over the dress lay a sheer, embroidered overlay—golden petals and tiny silver stones subtly sewn into the fabric. They caught light only at certain angles, their beauty revealed upon closer look. She wore glass slippers that completed the fairytale image.
Who said gold and silver didn't match?
Ariana, seeing herself, shook the thought away.
The designer stepped to the side to finish the last details on the other glove. Ariana stood still, waiting. After a few quiet moments, the lady finally spoke softly.
"Lady Ariana, I'm done."
Different thoughts raced through Ariana's mind. Was she truly ready to face that man? Was she really ready to marry him? The truth was, even if she dared to plan an escape, where would she run? Her father would likely beat her if she were ever found.
The bitter part? Her family hadn't even come to see her—not once. She had no relative to turn to right now.
It was just her and the baby.
Ariana's lips trembled slightly at the thought of her father and sister. Just then, Leah, who had been beside her, spoke gently, "Lady Ariana, you look absolutely breathtaking."
Ariana gave a soft smile and moved her hands quietly in a subtle gesture of thanks.
As Ariana glanced at the lady, she caught something in her expression—something fleeting, yet unmistakable. A look of pity. It was gone in an instant, but Ariana had seen it. That silent gaze that whispered, Oh… why does it have to be her…. She knew that look too well. And for some reason, she couldn't explain why, but her heart ached more.
What was he that made people this scared…?
Still, as her hand rested lightly over her stomach, a quiet resolve settled inside her. If staying in this palace meant keeping her baby safe, then so be it. Running would only bring suffering—for herself and the child. The last thing she wanted was to bring a baby into the world weak, starving, or burdened by her reckless decisions.
No. If it meant avoiding the king's wrath by following his will—after all, there was no reason why the king would accept someone like her, except out of pity or because of the baby—then she would play along. She would follow his lead.
For the sake of the child—she would endure it all.
And she would.
She surely would.
Just as Leah opened her mouth to speak, a hesitant knock echoed against the door. It creaked open softly, and a maid stepped in, bowing low.
"The wedding ceremony has begun," she said gently. "Please, Lady Ariana, it's time to step out. You'll soon be ascending the aisle."
At those words, Ariana froze. Her breath caught as her heart leapt. Her feet, once ready to move, remained still. Something inside her hesitated—tightened.
At last, Ariana moved as the maid gently led her forward. They walked down a long hallway, the soft sound of their footsteps echoing faintly. When they reached a large door, the maid pushed it open—but instead of a grand room, another hallway stretched before them.
Rows of bright candlelight flickered high above, their glow casting steady, golden lines along the walls. Ariana's legs trembled slightly with each step, a quiet tremor of nerves and resolve. She bit her lip, steadying herself, then moved forward.
Finally, they came to another large door. The maid's hand hovered for a moment before she quietly pushed it open once more.
It led to an open hallway they walked silently.
They stopped in front of a very, very large door. Towering and imposing. A door that felt like the boundary between her past and a future she still wasn't sure of.
The maid turned to her, voice soft but respectful. "Please wait here, Lady Ariana. When it's time for you to enter, I will let you know."
Ariana nodded—once, twice—trying to steady her nerves. The maid disappeared down the hall, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The soft wind blew toward her, bringing a strange sense of comfort.
Was this really the right choice?
She inhaled deeply. 'Be strong you can do this. You're doing this for the baby. To protect the child.'
Even though the earlier meeting still swirled in her mind like a storm—confusion, fear, questions.
She turned, her gaze drifting through the open hallway. The moon had already risen. She stared at how beautiful it looked—and for a moment, that alone calmed her heavy heart.
Were they really going to war?
The last time there was talk of war, it had only been in stories passed down through generations—echoes of the past. Her father had once mentioned it in passing, but she had never thought it real, never thought it would touch her life. Now, she wasn't even sure how deep the hatred between the vampires and the werewolves ran. Or why this union was happening at all.
In fact, growing up, she had been more intrigued by the witches her mother once told her about when she was ten. They had supposedly gone extinct trying to stop the last war, which had occurred centuries ago—between vampires and werewolves—as they tried to unite both sides… and then came the senerp.
Still… was this life truly worse than the one she had left behind?
An abusive home full of bruises and silence?
Just then, the maid returned, carrying a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers. She handed it to Ariana gently.
Ariana took it with a nod, her gaze dropping to the vibrant petals. It was a stunning blend of colors and blooms—delicate, powerful, intentional. She stared at it. Just stared in awe.
And then, a smile touched her lips. Small. Quiet. But real.
Yet, the maid beside her looked suddenly panicked, glancing toward the doors. Then came the final cue—a small man with a solemn expression stepped forward. He was so short he could almost make someone believe in dwarves, yet his expression was cold and professional.
"Lady Ariana, it is time."
The massive doors began to creak open.
A chill washed over her body. She clutched the bouquet tightly in one hand, the other pressing firmly against her dress to hold herself steady. Her legs moved on instinct.
She lifted her gaze confidently—even if, inside, it was the other way around.
Dozens of eyes turned to her. Some wide with shock. Others blinking in surprise.
Why are they all staring?
She followed their gaze forward—toward the altar.
There stood the priest.
But..not the king.
W..Where was the king?