The morning of the wedding felt surreal. I woke early, sunlight spilling across the room, and for a moment I just lay there, letting it sink in. In a month, we had gone from endless tension, betrayal, and scheming, to planning one of the happiest days of my life. Beside me, Canna slept, calm as ever, his hand resting over mine. I smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. He stirred slightly and opened his eyes, giving me that quiet, reassuring look that always made the world feel right.
“Ready?” I asked softly.
He nodded, his eyes glinting with amusement. “For you? Always.”
The morning was a flurry of activity. Stylists, makeup artists, florists, and planners moved around us, each detail meticulously checked and double-checked. My dress hung nearby, delicate silk with
