CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Sebastian stood waiting for his wedding. On the outside, he probably looked still and calm—no worse than a groom should look on his wedding day, at least. Inside, he was roiling, the news that had come in shaking through him the way an earth tremor might have.
Sophia was alive.
“Is everything all right, your highness?” a servant asked him. A whole contingent of them surrounded him, fussing over him in a way that felt like a team of squires strapping some ancient knight into his armor.
“I’m fine,” Sebastian lied, because what else could he do at this point?
Trumpets sounded, heralding the moment when he had to go through with this. The servants all but herded him forward. Perhaps they thought that it was only natural for a man to be nervous on his wedding day. Perha
