Free Web NovelChapter 35: Chapter 35: Wedding Day
Yue-Senn POV
As I stood at the head of the marble altar, my eyes traced the sprawling architecture laid out. Thousands of ivory white roses cascaded from the vaulted ceiling in sweeping, dramatic arches, intertwining with thousands of tiny, glowing lights that mirrored a false starry night. The long, polished marble aisle stretched out before me, flanked on either side by towering floral hedges and hundreds of thick glass candles casting a warm, deceptive amber glow. To my immediate right stood the priest in white robes that contrasted sharply against his slick black hair. To my left, Ki-ri remained in the shadows, a silent extension of my will.
Looking out into the crowded pews on the left side sat my northern guard. Opposite them sat the forces of the West, flanking my new brother-in-law Riegthar and my mother-in-law, their expressions carved from stone. But it was the back row that caught my attention. Sitting precisely between the King of the South and the young Southern Prince was my sister-in-law, Aiyolistra.
I smirked, tracing the wedding band resting on my finger. I expected them to be here. My network had intercepted their spies weeks ago, they thought they were clever, sneaking into a surprise wedding to claim their prize. They had no idea they were walking directly into a slaughterhouse.
Suddenly, the massive reinforced doors at the back of the hall groaned open. The room fell so dead silent you could hear the flickering of the candlewick.
Ryophlira stepped into the light, and for a fraction of a second, the breath was entirely stolen from my lungs. She was an ethereal, staggering vision, moving down the marble path like a goddess descending from a cosmic plane. Her rich, sun-kissed skin glowed beneath the heavy, shimmering gold-embroidered veil that trailed yards behind her. The off-the-shoulder wedding gown clung perfectly to the curves of her bust and waist, exploding into tiered, voluminous ruffles of starlight-white silk. Strands of her long hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, a chaotic contrast against the delicate gold filigree necklace gracing her collarbone. Her eyes locked onto mine with a untamed defiance.
Right beside her marched her father his face tightly drawn in a mask of fading pride while Ari quietly trailed them, carefully managing the heavy, cascading weight of the bridal train.
When they reached the base of the altar, I slowly bow to her father, my green eyes fixed on his weathered face as I took Ryophlira’s hand from his grip. Her father offered no words, he simply turned and took his seat beside his wife, his jaw clenched.
I leaned in close, my shoulder brushing hers, and gently tucked a stray lock of white-and-red hair behind her pointed ear. freeωebnovēl.c૦m
"The heavens themselves must be weeping with envy at the sight of you today," I murmured, my voice a low, whisper meant for her ears alone.
Ryophlira didn’t look at me. She kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, her jaw locked as she whispered through her teeth, "Focus."
A dark smile touched my lips as I pulled back, smoothing the lapel of my tailored black tuxedo. The priest cleared his throat, his deep voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings as he commenced the ceremony. The words washed over us like a boring formality until we reached the inevitable precipice.
"If any soul present can show just cause why these two should not be lawfully joined," the priest intoned, his gaze sweeping the crowd, "let them speak now, or forever hold their peace."
"I do."
The voice boomed from the back. The King of the South stood up, his suit rustling as he marched down the center aisle, holding a rolled parchment tightly in his hand.
"Here in my hand, I hold the original kingdom agreement," the Southern King announced, his expression smug as he stopped at the base. "It states explicitly that the King of the North will marry the eldest daughter of the West, and the South will claim the second-born. By taking Ryophlira, you are violating the sacred balance." Her parents didn’t even flinch at anything he said.
I let out a low, amused laugh, completely unfazed. "King of the South... what a thoroughly predictable surprise to see you here."
Ryophlira’s hand twitched in mine. She leaned her head slightly toward me, her eyes tracking the Southern guards. "You better have a plan for this," she said under her breath.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached up and casually patted her head, a gesture meant to infuriate her as much as reassure her. I gave Ki-ri a sharp nod.
He moved instantly. He pulled an official document from the inside pocket of his uniform, stepped down from the altar, and intercepting the Southern King, he snatched his treaty from his hands. He marched back up to the priest, slamming both documents onto the golden podium.
The black-haired priest adjusted his spectacles, his eyes scanning the texts side-by-side. A heavy sweat broke out on his brow. "Both... both these documents bear the original blood stamps of the West," the priest stammered, his voice shaking. "Neither party is legally at fault but the West itself. However... she can only marry into one kingdom."
My smirk deepened. I had been planning this trap for years. There was absolutely no universe where I would ever let them have her.
"Well, I challenge the validity of this union entirely!" the King of the South shouted, desperation creeping into his tone. "The King of the North already has a lover! He treats this princess as a political shield while his bed is kept warm by another!"
The tension was a living thing, ready to snap.
I let out a loud, ringing laugh that echoed off the marble walls, thoroughly entertained by his flailing. "What lover do you speak of? Do you mean my wife... who is standing right here in front of God and the court?"
Before he could protest, I aggressively seized Ryophlira’s hand and hoisted it high into the air, the band catching the candlelight for the entire room to see. Ki-ri stepped forward again, holding up a third, heavily sealed parchment.
"It states here in the official registry that they are already lawfully wedded," the priest read aloud, his eyes widening.
"Impossible!" the King of the South roared, his face turning an angry shade of red.
"We were trying to keep it a secret for diplomatic safety," I lied smoothly, my voice dripping with artificial romance as I turned my gaze to Ryophlira. "We simply couldn’t wait. We have been madly in love since our very first meeting... and well, one particularly passionate night led to us now carrying the heir to the Northern throne."
Ryophlira’s hand violently shook against mine. I could feel the sheer, unbridled shock radiating through her skin as she squeezed my fingers so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Across the aisle, her mother and father’s eyes glowed with a blinding anger. The entire marble foundation of the cathedral began to tremble, the glass candleholders rattling against their metal stands. I knew that vibration anywhere it was her brother, Riegthar, losing his absolute mind in the pews. From the corner of my eye, I watched Aiyolistra abruptly stand up and march out of the side exit, her face pale.
"That can’t be true!" the Southern King snarled, pointing a finger at Ryophlira’s stomach.
"If you doubt the word of the North, there is a royal physician right here who can verify that she is indeed carrying my child," I stated calmly.
On cue, a man I had embedded deeply within the Western medical guilds stood up from the middle rows. "I am a physician," he announced loudly, rushing up the steps of the altar before anyone could stop him.
He reached his hand out toward Ryophlira’s belly. Instinctively, she flinched and took a sharp step back. Placing my hand firmly behind her back, I guided her forward, locking my eyes onto hers and giving her a slow, definitive nod to show her it was okay.
She held her breath. The doctor reached out, his palm pressing flat against the silk of her dress.
A white light flashed from his hand as he chanted an ancient diagnostic spell. The magic illuminating the entire altar before settling down. The doctor immediately dropped to his knees, bowing his head to the stone floor. "It is true. Congratulations, King and Queen of the North."
"Is this true, Ryophlira?!" Riegthar roared.
He stood up fully, shaking the entire row of pews as his deep purple eyes blazed with an unhinged, protective fury. The building shook harder, plaster dust starting to drift from the ceiling.
Ryophlira didn’t look at him. She kept her face turned toward me, a manufactured, tight smile plastered on her lips though she looked like she was holding onto her sanity by a thread. "Yes," she said clearly.
Riegthar let out a guttural sound of pure betrayal and rage. Unable to control his anger, he turned on his heel and stormed out, his heavy boots booming against the marble.
I had never been more entertained in my entire life.
Sliding my arm around her waist, I pulled her body flush against mine. "You could at least pretend that you are madly in love with me, honey," I whispered against her lips.
Ryophlira didn’t hesitate. Reaching up with both hands, she aggressively grabbed the lapels of my tuxedo jacket, yanked my face down, and smashed her lips against mine.
It wasn’t a gentle performative kiss. It was a hot, fierce, deeply passionate. She kissed me with a desperate, crushing intensity, her tongue tangling with mine as her breath hitched in her throat, pouring all her fear, shock, and anger into the embrace. A massive cheer erupted from the left side of the room my Northern guards
She broke the kiss first, panting softly as she pulled back. A deep, heavy blush of embarrassment and lingering guilt flushed across her cheeks.
I didn’t give a second to recover. I locked my fingers through hers and began leading her down the altar steps, marching past the completely catatonic King of the South.
"I love your hair," I whispered with a smirk as we walked down the white aisle, keeping a brilliant, triumphant smile on my face for the remaining guests. "The curl is different today. And it’s shorter, too."
Ryophlira tilted her head up, her eyes glaring up at me as she muttered through her teeth, "Great. Now I am never wearing this hairstyle again. Thanks."
I chuckled, but as my hand remained wrapped around hers, I could feel it. Her fingers were still shaking against mine, and beneath the heavy of her bodice, her heart was racing like a trapped bird.
We passed the threshold of the grand doors, leaving the Southern King staring after us in absolute, broken disbelief. The war had officially begun, and I had already taken the queen.
