Chapter 3 The Wedding
863 Words
Friedrich's words caused Cecilia's entire body to shake uncontrollably, leaving her mind foggy and unaware of when Friedrich had released her.
"Inspection complete; you have no dangerous items on you."
Friedrich's emotionless words slightly brought Cecilia back to her senses. She pulled the blanket from the foot of the bed, wrapping it entirely around herself. She stared at Friedrich with unease, her voice trembling, "You could have just asked me about this directly... why, why did you do this..."
"I trust what I see more than what I hear."
Friedrich seemed indifferent as his gaze moved past Cecilia, landing on the floor-length wardrobe outside the large bed.
A soft noise drew Cecilia's attention. She followed Friedrich's gaze and saw that the tightly closed wardrobe had abruptly opened by itself.
"Will you put it on yourself, or shall I assist you?"
Friedrich's words made Cecilia turn her head, only to find that the black dress was now in Friedrich's hands.
Cecilia's eyes widened as she glanced at the empty wardrobe and then at the dress in Friedrich's hands, confirming she wasn't seeing things. Her breathing grew more labored.
"Why is that dress in your hands?"
Friedrich tilted his head, flashing an inscrutable smile, "It's quite normal for my belongings to be in my hands."
Her heart began pounding even harder, almost leaping out of her chest. Cecilia could no longer contain herself and broke into a fit of loud coughing.
"Cough, cough, cough—"
Cecilia's continuous coughing made Friedrich frown. He grabbed Cecilia's wrist, a red glint flashing in his brown eyes, "You're still ill? Your father never mentioned this."
Cecilia could no longer focus on Friedrich's words. Her body was in revolt, gasping for air. She couldn't concern herself with anything else, desperate only to escape this predicament as quickly as possible.
"My medicine... give me my medicine..."
Cecilia, tears streaming down her face, looked at Friedrich pleadingly. She didn't want to die; she still had dreams to fulfill.
Friedrich remained silent, watching the young girl in front of him gasp for breath like a dying fish, her desperate attempts to cling to life futile.
As her breathing became faint and she lost the strength even to cough, the girl reluctantly closed her eyes, her warm tears wetting her face and moistening his palm.
Upon awakening once more, Cecilia discovered that all discomfort had vanished from her body, replaced by an unprecedented sense of lightness that made her feel exceptionally healthy and vibrant.
Sitting up in bed, Cecilia realized she was already dressed in the black gown made of soft, glossy velvet featuring a daring V-neck that exposed her collarbones and neckline. The skirt, layered with finely crafted lace, each tier adorned with tiny golden beads at the edges. An elegant black belt encircled her waist, embedded with golden gems.
Cecilia got out of bed and stood up. The dress's hem swept the floor, flowing like a river under the night sky, mysterious and unfathomable.
A courteous knock at the door startled Cecilia.
"Hello, madam. I'm Lucy. May I come in?"
It was a mature female voice that gave Cecilia an inexplicable sense of familiarity. "Please come in."
The woman who entered, dressed in a maid's uniform, appeared to be in her twenties with an attractive face and a gracious smile. "Madam, the wedding is about to start. May I assist you with your hair and makeup?"
Cecilia only then realized that the black gown she wore was in fact a wedding dress.
Lucy styled her hair into large, wavy curls and fitted her with a pearl veil that obscured part of her face and vision.
She was then led by Lucy to the chapel.
This estate also boasted a chapel within its grounds.
Cecilia stood before the ceremony hall doors, which seemed to sense her presence and opened automatically.
Lucy stopped, indicating that Cecilia would have to walk the rest of the way alone.
As soon as she stepped into the hall, the doors closed automatically behind her.
At the far end of the hall, at the end of the red carpet, sat a man in a wheelchair—Friedrich.
Friedrich was watching her, gesturing with an outstretched hand for her to come closer.
Cecilia moved forward slowly, unaccustomed to the high heels, her pace cautious. Yet, Friedrich appeared patient, quietly waiting for her to approach him.
"It was you who saved me, wasn’t it? Thank you."
Cecilia's physical condition was unprecedentedly good, something beyond the reach of ordinary medical treatments. She speculated that perhaps she had been treated with some cutting-edge medicine or had undergone significant surgery.
Both options would have been extremely costly. Friedrich was the only one in her life who could afford such treatment.
Her initial aversion to Friedrich had dissipated, and her attitude had improved considerably. After all, he had saved her life.
Friedrich, without nodding or denying, stated, "Let’s complete the wedding so we can leave here soon."
Cecilia, taken aback by his words, looked around to find no guests, no priest, nor any music—just the gentle whisper of the wind and the man standing before her.
Is this the wedding, starting now?
- Writer
