The Alliance

Chapter 23: The revelation

The grand hall of the English castle is adorned in splendor. The golden chandeliers cast a soft glow over the vast hall, where nobles and courtiers of both Eldermere and Mercia watch in anticipation. Rich tapestries cascade from the walls, and the scent of fresh blooms lingers in the air. Jasmine walks down the aisle, her heart pounding so loudly she fears the entire room can hear it. Each step feels heavy beneath the weight of Bianca’s gown, the white veil cascading down her face like a shield from the world. The golden locket beneath the fabric presses against her chest, a bittersweet reminder of the truth she hides.

At the altar, Prince Phillip stands tall and striking, a picture of royal elegance in his deep blue tunic embroidered with silver thread. His gaze, filled with warmth and anticipation is fixed on her, soft and unwavering, as if no one else exists in the room.

As she reaches him, Phillip offers his hand, his fingers steady and warm. “You’re breathtaking,” he whispers, his voice tender. Jasmine stands in front of him with her hands intertwined in his.

“I’ve waited for this moment,” he whispers again, his words causing a lump to rise in Jasmine’s throat.

Jasmine swallows, the weight of her deception pressing against her chest like an iron clasp. She wants to turn back, to undo what has already been set in motion, but it is too late.

“We gather here to witness the union of Prince Phillip of Mercia and Princess Bianca of Eldermere…” The priest begins the ceremony, and the words blur in Jasmine’s ears as her thoughts spin wildly. Phillip’s warm hand envelops hers, grounding her just enough to repeat her vows when the time comes.

Jasmine’s hands tremble as she recites the vows. Each word feels like a betrayal, yet when she glances up at Phillip, his earnest gaze pierces through her defenses.

“I do,” Phillip says firmly, his voice echoing in the hall.

“And I do,” Jasmine whispers, tears threatening to spill over.

A murmur of approval sweeps through the hall.

The Priest picks up the crown from its cushion. “ Now you may exchange crowns, as a symbol of royalty and partnership in your new life together. Let this union also seal both kingdoms, uniting us in strength and collaboration.”

“Here” He hands over the crown to Phillip. Phillip steps forward and places the crown on Jasmine’s head. And she’s does the same to him.

The priest smiles, closing the ceremonial book. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. All hail Prince Phillip and princess Bianca of Mercia!”

The hall erupts into joint salutations, but Jasmine’s body stiffens. Tears stream down her cheeks as guilt consumes her. She lowers her head, unable to meet Phillip’s eyes.

Phillip steps forward, concern flickering across his face as he gently cups her face through the veil. “Why do you cry?” he murmurs, his voice laced with tenderness. “This is the happiest day of my life.” He brushes his thumb against the tear streaking her veil.

“I don’t deserve this,” she murmurs, her voice shaking.

He smiles, pulling her into a comforting embrace. “You deserve everything and more,” he whispers in her ear. “I’ll wait as long as you need. There’s no rush.”

As his hands move to lift her veil, his touch is reverent as if unwrapping a precious gift and Jasmine breath catches. The hall falls silent. The delicate fabric tears slightly as it catches on the clasp of her locket, and the veil falls away, revealing Jasmine’s face.

The collective gasp from the crowd is nearly deafening. Aurora and the eldermen from Eldermere stiffen visibly. Their expressions betray their shock though they manage to maintain their composure. Queen Eleanor’s lips part in confusion, and her piercing eyes narrow.

Calista and Amira exchange subtle glances but remain silent, their faces calm despite the chaos.

Phillip’s brows knit in confusion, his gaze darting between Jasmine and the stunned faces of the crowd. “What… what is going on?” he asks, his voice low and concerned.

Jasmine cannot face him, instead her pleading eyes are glued on Aurora. She is more scared of Aurora’s wrath than the persecution from the crowd. The tears steaming down her eyes is overflowing as fear pricks her heart. She never wanted to deceive Mercia, she never wanted to be part of any of this.

Aurora cannot believe her eyes, it feels as though her mind is playing tricks on her.She shoot daggers with her eyes at Jasmine, who looks so pale and swollen from fear and tears— She looks like she’s about to faint. Aurora feels like her heart is being ripped out of her chest but she cannot falter. Mercia will never forgive Eldermere for this. She must act with wisdom.

Aurora’s sharp inhale cuts through the air. Her face goes pale, her fingers gripping the folds of her gown so tightly her knuckles turn white.

Queen Eleanor watches with careful curiosity, her sharp gaze flickering between Aurora and the now-exposed Jasmine . Phillip, however, becomes enraptured, staring at his bride with a mixture of worry and something unreadable.

“Now that our journey has begun, I promise to always be by your side.” he whispers, his hand cupping her cheek so she can face him, trying to cheer her up.

Jasmine can hardly breathe. Aurora is still frozen, but within seconds, she regains her composure. She must act quickly.

She takes a measured step forward, bowing deeply before the queen. “Your Majesty, please forgive us for this abrupt interruption, but according to our sacred customs, the bride cannot remain alone with her husband until the final ritual is completed. It is a critical tradition in Eldermere that must be observed for the marriage to be fully consecrated. So I urge you to allow us escort the princess—” she glances at Jasmine, correcting herself, “—the bride to her chambers to prepare for the rest of the ceremony.”

The queen arches an eyebrow, suspicion flashing briefly across her face. “Final ritual?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Aurora says smoothly, though her stomach twists violently, her voice is steady despite the tension thick in the air. “It is a purification rite that prepares the bride for her role as a wife. It is a sacred tradition that cannot be omitted.We must escort the princess away for the ceremony.”

Queen Eleanor’s sharp eyes linger on Aurora for a moment, her lips purse slightly, but after a moment, she nods. “Very well, if this is your tradition, so be it.”she says, though her tone carries a hint of displeasure.

Aurora turns to Phillip, who looks puzzled but does not object. “We only ask for your patience, Your Highness,” she says, keeping her voice steady. “She will be returned to you before the feast.”

Phillip hesitates, his gaze locks back to Jasmine. His confusion is evident, but he forces a small smile and nods. “Of course,” he says, though his voice lacks its usual warmth—-he clearly does not want to let her go.

Aurora wastes no time. She steps beside Jasmine, gripping her hand firmly as she leads her away. Jasmine keeps her head low, unable to face the stares of the court.

Amira, Calista and the eldermen follow, their expressions unreadable.

As the doors close behind them, the murmurs in the hall rise into a storm of disbelief.Phillip remains standing at the altar, staring after Jasmine, a thousand questions swirling in his mind. Queen Eleanor, seated on her throne, watches with a calculating expression, clearly not convinced by the explanation.

As they step out of the wedding hall and into the dimly lit corridor, Aurora finally releases her breath, her hands shaking.

She whirls on Jasmine, her voice barely above a whisper but sharp as a blade. “What have you done?”