Lauretta’s POV The morning of the wedding came quickly.
I stood in front of a tall mirror in the preparation chamber, staring at the stranger in blue and gold staring back at me.
The heavy gown clung to my frame, its intricate embroidery and jewels feeling too uncomfortable because of how heavy it was.
My mother paced behind me, voice sharp and unrelenting.
“Stop fidgeting.
You will smile today if it kills you.
After the mess you made yesterday, you owe us this.
You owe me this.
Do not embarrass me in front of the entire court.” A soft knock sounded.
A young woman entered — the makeup artist assigned to me.
She was a few years older, with kind brown eyes and gentle hands.
Unlike the sneering guards or my mother’s angst, she moved with quiet compassion.
“May I?” she asked softly.
As she worked, dabbing powder over the faint bruise on my cheek, she noticed the way I was crouching and holding my stomach.
Without a word, she slipped a small hot compress from her bag and pressed it gently against my lower belly, securing it discreetly under the gown.
“This should help for a while,” she whispered, so only I could hear.
For the first time in days, the worst of the pain eased to a bearable ache.
My eyes were teary with gratitude.
“Thank you,” I whispered back.
It was the only kindness I had received since being claimed yesterday.
My mother noticed the exchange and scowled.
“You have to be strong, Lauretta.
You’re fidgeting over nothing.
How will you act when it’s time to give birth?” The makeup artist simply smiled politely and continued her work in silence.
The walk down the aisle felt endless.
The great hall was filled with nobles in their finest attire.
Whispers followed me like shadows and I could feel everyone’s gaze focused on me like lasers.
“They said she stole the hairpin…” “She doesn’t look like someone who would steal.
Looks too innocent for that.” “It’s always the innocent looking ones ” I kept my eyes forward.
At the altar, Malachi waited, tall and imposing.
His grey eyes tracked my every step, cold and calculating.
The ceremony began.
The priest’s voice boomed through the hall.
“Do you, Lauretta, take King Malachi Blackfur as your husband, to obey him, to love him in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?” My voice was barely audible.
“I… do.” Murmurs of disapproval rippled through the crowd.
The Queen Mother, seated prominently, stared at me with disdain.
Malachi’s grip on my hand was iron-tight as the priest pronounced us husband and wife.
“You are mine now,” he murmured during the kiss, his voice low “Hell and high water, remember?” My heart lurched as he said it but I forced myself to stay composed.
The feast that followed was a blur of forced smiles and cutting glances.
Nobles offered bland congratulations.
“Such a… unique bride,” one lady said with a fake smile.
I sat beside Malachi, the hot compress slowly losing its warmth.
My mother hovered nearby, continuing her quiet campaign of shame.
“Smile wider,” she hissed at one point.
“Stop looking like you’re attending your own funeral.” As the evening wore on, Malachi rose and left for reasons unknown to me.
While i was ordered to go to the the king’s chambers with description from the cruel gaurds.
The hallways felt endless,i didn’t even know our palace was this big, I had never been to any of this places, The heavy gown dragged after me.
The heavy embroidery in my hair felt like there were shackles in my scalp, whispers from servants followed me but I didn’t even hear most of them from how tired I was.
I turned a corner toward the left wing, my vision blurring from exhaustion.
My legs buckled suddenly.
A strong hand caught my arm, steadying me before I could hit the marble floor.
I looked up, startled, into the face of a mysterious handsome man I had never seen before.
He was tall, with sharp features and dark brown eyes .
His grip was firm but not painful.
“Careful,” he said softly, his barrittone voice smooth and unfamiliar.
“The palace floors can be a bit slippery.” Behind him, two guards rounded the corner, the man released my arm smoothly and stepped back walking to the east wing just as the guards approached.
My heart raced,Who was he?
The guards reached me in a few strides.”The king is waiting, luna,” one said, taking my elbow to escort me the rest of the way.
As they led me toward Malachi’s chambers, I glanced back over my shoulder.
The mysterious man was gone.