Free Web NovelChapter 399: Will you marry me?
The massive double doors at the opposite side of the ballroom swung wide open.
Lucius stepped firmly onto the polished marble threshold, and standing right beside him, clad in the pristine, immaculate white doublet that mirrored the fresh snowfall outside, was Julian.
The entire ballroom fell into a stunned, absolute silence. The brilliant, almost ethereal scholar stepped forward into the warm amber light, completely unaware that the stage had just been cleared entirely for him.
Standing in the center of the vast floor was Alaric. He stretched his hand out, inviting Julian over.
Julian’s breath caught in his throat. He began to walk forward, his hair neatly styled back. Though his steps felt a little awkward under the intense gaze of the entire aristocracy present, he didn’t stumble.
His posture was held steady by a quiet, innate dignity, but the sheer scale of the gathering made his heart hammer frantically against his ribs.
As he neared the center of the room, his gaze flickered to the side, catching the familiar, proud faces of Kaelen and Rowan who didn’t look tired for the first time. He looked refreshed—happy. They were standing side by side near the guard lines.
His eyes then drifted to the corner, where Prince Cassian, Princess Liora, Lucius who had scurried over, Bellard, Betty and a few other children were all standing together, their faces lit up with a fierce, poorly hidden excitement just for him.
Finally, Julian looked back at the imposing, white-clad figure waiting for him.
"Lucien... this is...?" Julian whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he reached the center of the floor.
Alaric didn’t answer with words right away. Instead, a breathtakingly warm smile curled his lips, his blue eyes softening with a profound, consuming and knowing look that Julian had never seen before.
Slowly, deliberately, the Grand Duke of the North lowered his massive frame, sinking down onto one knee before his scholar and Julian’s breath caught.
"Lucien..." he murmured softly.
The court photographers Alaric had secretly commissioned—men operating large, antique cameras powered by magical cores—instantly began to take shots. The devices clicked silently, their lenses flashing with soft lights that captured the exact, historic second the Duke bowed his pride to the man he loved.
Alaric reached out, his large, calloused hands gently taking Julian’s smaller, trembling fingers into his own. "Julian... you asked to carry the weight of this North alongside me. Let me give you the right to do it permanently. Will you marry me?"
In that frozen second, the realization finally hit Julian with the force of a physical blow.
A surprise... So this... had been the surprise? The Grand Duke had spent the last seven days upending his entire estate, smuggling in thousands of flowers, and rallying the northern court just to bow at his feet?
Alaric was doing all of this just to give him a home, to prove to the world that they were equals.
A profound, staggering wave of emotion crashed over Julian’s soul. Looking down at the man on one knee, Julian knew with absolute, fierce certainty that he could never think of any other way to live his life.
He could never imagine walking through this world with any other person by his side. Every lifetime, every ounce of hardship and loneliness he had ever endured, had led him straight to this precise moment.
This time, there would be no tragedies. This time, they would have their happy ending.
Only then, as the sheer magnitude of Alaric’s love completely overwhelmed him, did the first hot tears start trickling down his flushed cheeks.
A brilliant, radiant smile broke across his face through the dampness. "Yes," Julian choked out, his voice ringing clearly through the silent hall. "Yes, Lucien. A thousand times."
With steady, trembling fingers, Alaric reached into his breast pocket and produced a small, silver-trimmed velvet box.
When it clicked open, a deep, mesmerizing blue glinted in its depths. The ring was forged of heavy, polished northern platinum, centering a rare frost-sapphire that caught the amber chandelier light, swirling with a brilliant cerulean fire that perfectly matched the exact shade of Julian’s eyes.
Alaric carefully slid the band onto Julian’s finger. It was cold against his skin, but it immediately anchored him to the present, a solid symbol of an everlasting promise.
The crowd didn’t just polite-clap; a roaring cheer erupted from the northern lords and ladies, the hall instantly buzzing with the historic weight of the moment—the first official same-sex union ever recognized by a ruling Great House.
Alaric surged to his feet, his massive arms instantly wrapping around Julian’s waist to lift him slightly off the floor, pulling him flush against his chest.
He lowered his head, pressing his forehead firmly against Julian’s as they both closed their eyes, letting the sheer emotion ground them.
At that exact second, thousands of real white lily petals began to drift lazily down from the vaulted ceiling, tumbling through the candle flame light like a fragrant, domestic blizzard. Alaric tilted his head, his lips meeting Julian’s in a deep tender kiss that sealed the promise in front of the entire world.
The heat of that applause seemed to ripple forward through time, the memory shifting seamlessly into the real, reality-altering present.
The sound of the cheering court faded into the crisp, open air of a new day. The stone ballroom had been replaced by a vast, breathtaking open-air altar erected in the very heart of the duchy.
It was their wedding day.
They stood beneath a grand canopy of woven winter branches, both of them clad in matching, pristine white wedding doublets that shone like silver under the brilliant northern sun.
On Julian’s left hand, the frost-sapphire caught the daylight, glinting beautifully with that familiar blue depth. He held his bouquet tight, a warm smile spreading across his cheeks and his thin veil flowing with the wind behind his head.
To anyone looking from afar, the entire clearing looked as though spring had spontaneously arrived in the dead of winter; the grass was a vibrant, lush green, and thousands of white lilies were blooming in full, glorious display.
But there was no true spring in the North—the breathtaking warmth and life filling the sanctuary was the direct result of a massive, continuous array of magic.
Pope Clement had traveled the entire way just for this moment and was the presiding priest for this union. He had just spoken the final blessing, and Julian and Alaric were just ending their first official kiss as husbands, their lips slowly parting after having spoken their sacred, eternal vows to one another.
The crowd cheered and the children threw flower petals from their small baskets, Lucius being the happiest and most vibrant of them all, he could cry.
Rowan and Kaelen were sitting together on their own table, Kaelen never taking his eyes away from Rowan the whole time, as if picturing the day they made their own vows.
Aurelian and Norx were sitting side by side as well. Norx was speaking about everything and nothing at the same time with a wine glass in his hand, while Aurelian simply sat absent-minded. Happiness was far from him but... He wished his brother could enjoy his own happiness. That was the best he could do.
Alaric didn’t let go of his husband’s hands. His thumb lightly traced the back of Julian’s knuckles, right over the edge of the blue-gemmed band, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners with a deep, unshakeable peace as he gazed into the face of the man who had turned his frozen fortress into a home.
"Now and forever," he whispered and Julian whispered back,
"Now and forever," Their love would only bloom from here.
Julian looked back at him, his short hair catching the magical breeze, his chest heaving with a soft, euphoric sigh.
The curtains had officially drawn back on a future they had built with their own hands, entirely safe within the sanctuary of the North.
