Illyana's POV
The small, ancient chapel, nestled in the rolling hills outside of Rome, was a sanctuary of quiet beauty. Built of weathered stone, its walls worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain, it stood as a silent testament to the enduring power of faith. The setting sun cast long shadows across the surrounding hills, painting the landscape in hues of gold and amber, a breathtaking backdrop to the intimate ceremony about to unfold.
Inside, the chapel was simple, rustic, and intimate. The air was thick with the scent of incense and beeswax, mingling with the earthy fragrance of wildflowers adorning the small altar. Flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the rough-hewn stone walls, illuminating the worn wooden pews and the ancient frescoes that adorned the vaulted ceiling – f
