Just us

The Wedding

Chapter Fourteen

The cathedral bloomed with gold and ivory, draped in silks and crowned with crystal chandeliers that caught the morning sun like captured stars. Nobles filled every pew, whispering behind jewelled fans, eyes bright with anticipation. Today was not just a union of two people — it was a spectacle, a declaration of power.

And at the centre of it all stood Lyanna Everhart.

She walked down the aisle in an extravagant wedding gown, a masterpiece of lace and pearls, its train sweeping the marble floor like the tail of a rare, proud bird. Her veil shimmered, and her lips curved into a smile perfected by years of envy and ambition. This was her moment. Her triumph.

At the altar waited Prince Fredrick, clad in regal white and gold. To the world, he looked every bit the devoted groom. But beneath the calm mask was a storm.

Lyanna reached him, and when their hands touched, she whispered softly, voice sweet as honey.

“Your Highness… today, the empire witnesses the beginning of our forever.”

Fredrick’s lips twitched. “Yes… our forever,” he echoed, though his eyes drifted, searching — yearning.

Among the crowd stood Camila.

Her presence struck him like a blade through the heart. He had hoped she would come. No — he had needed her to come. When their eyes briefly met, regret ignited in his chest, fierce and unforgiving.

The priest began the sacred rites, voice echoing through the cathedral.

“Do you, Prince Fredrick of Aurelian, take Lady Lyanna Everhart to be your lawful wife, to cherish and honour her till death?”

Fredrick hesitated — only for a breath, but it was enough. Enough for Lyanna to notice. Enough for the crowd to whisper.

“I do,” he finally said, forcing a smile that never reached his eyes.

“And do you, Lady Lyanna Everhart, take Prince Fredrick as your husband?”

Her gaze was blazing with devotion. “I do. With all my heart, with all my soul, and with every breath I take.”

When the moment came for the kiss, Lyanna lifted her veil slightly, eyes shining with expectation.

“My prince…” she murmured.

Fredrick leaned forward — and instead of her lips, he pressed a gentle kiss upon her forehead.

A polite gesture. A distant one.

A dagger to her pride.

His gaze shifted again, betraying him, drawn hopelessly toward Camila, as though the world had narrowed to only her.

Lyanna followed his line of sight — and saw it. Saw her.

Her fingers clenched around her bouquet as jealousy burned like acid in her veins. She bit her lip — harder, harder — until the taste of iron flooded her mouth. Blood bloomed, but she did not flinch.

After everything…

After the lies, the schemes, the humiliation I endured just to stand here… his heart still strays to her?

She smiled anyway. A queen’s smile. A dangerous one.

The cathedral erupted into applause, cheers echoing as bells rang far and wide,announcing their union. Yet within Lyanna’s chest, the sound felt hollow, like a crown made of glass.

---

The Marriage Banquet

The royal hall shimmered with opulence. Long tables overflowed with delicacies, musicians filled the air with celebratory melodies, and nobles bowed as the newlyweds entered.

Lyanna’s smile widened. She straightened her back, and chin lifted high.

Look at me. Remember this moment. I am your future queen.

She moved through the hall like a peacock in full splendour, her laughter ringing, her eyes sharp and calculating.

“Enjoy the feast,” she announced, lifting her goblet. “For tonight, we celebrate not only love but the unity of noble blood and royal power!”

Applause thundered.

“Her Grace looks radiant,” a lady whispered.

“She was born for the crown,” another replied.

Lyanna basked in every word, every admiring glance. This was what she had always wanted — the throne, the respect, the fear hidden behind forced smiles.

She glanced at Fredrick beside her. His posture was stiff, his expression distant.

“My prince,” she said softly, grip tightening around his arm, “Why do you look so solemn? Is this not the happiest day of your life?”

“It is,” he replied curtly, eyes again drifting toward the crowd.

Toward Camila.

Lyanna’s smile faltered for a heartbeat.

“Today, the past should mean nothing,” she whispered, voice low and sharp. “I am your wife now. Remember that.”

Fredrick said nothing.

Inside Lyanna, hurt twisted into something darker — colder.

He may love her… but I am the one wearing the crown.

She turned back to the crowd, smiling reborn, eyes blazing with ambition.

“No one will ever look down on me again,” she murmled beneath her breath. “Not you, Camila. Not anyone. I will be queen… and the world will kneel.”

Yet even as music filled the hall and nobles toasted her name, a shadow lingered over her heart — the painful truth that love had not been part of her victory… only conquest.

And that realization burned more fiercely than any jealousy ever could.