The wedding day
Inside Lyla’s chamber, the atmosphere was both quiet and thick with emotions.
As maids moved gracefully around the soon-to-be bride. The chamber was elegantly decorated with pale silks and golden trims, a soft contrast to the storm of feelings within.
Lyla sat before the large mirror, a white wedding gown flowing around her like moonlight. The gown, made of sheer organza and fine embroidered lace, hugged her figure softly, with delicate silver thread work running along the hem like ivy vines.
Her hair was being gently twisted into an updo, pinned with pearl accents. She looked beautiful—undeniably so—but her eyes were distant, glassy, shadowed by guilt.
Moira stood behind her, her hands adjusting the sleeves of Lyla’s gown. She wore a soft blue gown, modest and flowing
