The music began softly, almost politely, as if it were asking permission to exist.
Adrian felt it before he truly heard it, a low, measured progression that spread across the lawn and settled into the stone walls of the castle behind them. The guests shifted in their seats. Heads turned. The air changed. It always did at this point. Anticipation had a physical presence, and Adrian was acutely aware of it pressing in from every direction.
He did not look at the aisle right away.
He knew what he would see.
White fabric arched overhead, layered and draped with intentional softness. Flowers arranged with ruthless precision: ivory roses, pale blush blooms, greenery woven in like restraint pretending to be abundance. Lanterns lined the path, glass catching the afternoon light so it fractured
