Even the musicians' performance came to a halt, as if frozen by magic. In the suspended time of the banquet hall, only the confused lament of a bird echoed softly.
Eileen gripped the bouquet tightly, using it to hide her trembling fingers. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, focused solely on the path she had to take.
The carriage ride had already been tense. Despite all her efforts to remain composed, she felt nauseous, brought on by the uncomfortable reactions of the guests. The thin veil covering her face seemed to weigh tons, intensifying the discomfort.
She would have accepted even laughter, even mocking laughter. Anything would have been better than that suffocating silence that no one dared break.
What made the situation even more miserable was knowing that Ornella was witnessing everything. How she must have been laughing inwardly, triumphant. Eileen could easily imagine her blowing smoke in her face and asking sarcastically, "Enjoying the wedding?"
The night before, she had worried about the possibility of violence at the wedding venue, following Lotan's warning. But now, she thought that perhaps even that was preferable to going ahead with the marriage.
'No, stop. That kind of thinking…'
Even with all the assurances that they would protect her at all costs, Eileen knew she couldn't give in to such thoughts, no matter how difficult the situation. She shook her head silently and focused on taking one step at a time.
The musicians, who had been motionless for a while, finally resumed playing the melody. Even so, the guests remained silent, their restrained expectation palpable.
Finally, Eileen reached the spot where her father was waiting for her. He was in a slightly rumpled suit, with a faint smell of alcohol still lingering, but she chose to ignore it. The mere fact that he wasn't drunk was enough.
"You look beautiful, " he said, emotionally, as he approached.
Eileen murmured a brief thank you, but kept her mouth shut. Her father then took her hand and positioned himself with her at the beginning of the white aisle.
With her eyes fixed on the immaculate fabric, Eileen raised her head slightly. She so longed to see Cesare… just a glimpse would be enough to give her the strength to endure the rest of the ceremony.
If there was anyone who found her charming, regardless of her appearance, it was him.
Perhaps he didn't mind the heavy adornments that suffocated her. With cautious hope, she raised her head and glimpsed, at the end of the white corridor, the figure of the man waiting for her.
It had been a week since she had last seen him. Cesare was dressed in the uniform of supreme commander of the Imperial Army. Without the hat or cape of the uniform, he wore a white lily flower on his chest, adorned with medals and ribbons.
There he was, waiting for Eileen in the way she loved most: as the groom at this wedding.
The instant her eyes met Cesare's, a wave of relief washed over her. The outdoor ceremony scene, adorned with thousands of flowers, finally became clear before her.
The intense, fresh scent of the flowers, the beautiful march played by the musicians, and the applause of the guests… suddenly, Eileen perceived the vibrant world around her, which had previously gone unnoticed. All of this enveloped her, bringing color back to her previously gray existence.
Standing on the petal-covered path, Eileen felt her tension and fear slowly dissipate, replaced by a new excitement that filled her chest.
At that moment, she couldn't help but recall the first time she saw the prince, in a field of lilies. She heard again the voice that, when she was only ten years old, told her: "You must be Lily."
It was love at first sight. Little, innocent Eileen, who knew nothing of the world, had fallen in love with the Prince of the Empire. Cesare returned her love abundantly, caring for her as if she were his own daughter, accompanying each stage of her growth and spoiling her with an affection greater than that of many fathers.
Because of him, Eileen existed. Cesare was her whole world.
She had gone from being his cherished protégée to his beloved wife, but as long as she could remain by his side under any circumstances… Eileen was willing to pay any price.
Looking at the man she loved, Eileen took a step forward. Her father, somewhat flustered, hurried to follow her.
Previously with her eyes fixed on the ground, now Eileen could only see Cesare. The closer she got to him, the less everything else mattered.
Finally, she stopped before him. Facing Cesare, Eileen blinked slowly. The man before her was not an illusion; no matter how much she blinked, he remained there, solid and real.
Still, even with his tangible presence, everything seemed surreal, like a dream. She almost wanted to pinch her own arm to make sure. The idea that this man was about to become her husband was almost unbelievable. If someone burst into the room and shouted, “You’re not the bride!” , she might believe it.
Her father placed his hand in Cesare's, who silently accepted it. His role fulfilled, the father stepped away, but Eileen didn't even notice. All her attention was focused on her fiancé.
The firm grip of his hand conveyed an undeniable reality, even with the slight pain it caused. With a trembling voice, Eileen called out to him:
Cesare…
She desperately wanted to hear him answer, to pronounce her name, to confirm that this moment was real. Through the blurred veil, she looked at him urgently, pleading for a sign.
Even through the thin fabric, Cesare's red irises were unmistakable, clear and full of Eileen's gaze. In an unexpected gesture, he released her hand and, to her astonishment, lifted the veil.
When her vision cleared, their eyes met. The sound of her heart pounding echoed in her ears, drowning out everything around them. Before her stood the incredibly handsome man, and, involuntarily, her lips parted slightly.
There was an unprecedented expression on Cesare's face. The man with the always clear and penetrating gaze now seemed absorbed, as if he himself were delirious. Fascinated, his eyes were fixed on her, reflecting his own ecstasy.
The intensity of his gaze burned, as if each spark were a living flame. After an eternity of silence, Cesare finally parted his lips:
Eileen.
Her voice, slightly trembling, whispered his name again, filled with indescribable tenderness.
Eileen…
She sighed the name, as if it were her own breath, and then let the veil fall softly behind her.
Lost in the moment with Cesare, Eileen suddenly remembered the officiant waiting at the altar. The high priest of the temple was staring at them with wide eyes, his expression shifting between her and the groom.
'Could it be because he lifted the veil ahead of time?'
Traditionally, the veil was only lifted during the vows. Although it was an unusual action, it wasn't exactly incorrect. It shouldn't have caused such a stir… Perhaps, being the wedding of an Archduke , it demanded greater formality. Eileen wasn't sure. Still, they remained there, standing firm before the priest, ready to proceed with the ceremony.
The old priest seemed lost in thought until Cesare slightly furrowed his brow, causing him to begin the ceremony with a start.
As she recited the wedding prayer, Eileen nervously fidgeted with her fingers intertwined with Cesare's. Noticing her nervousness, he squeezed her hand firmly, conveying reassurance, and only then gently released it.
After the officiant's prayer, Cesare was the first to pronounce his vows:
— I, Cesare Traon Karl Erzet, as Archduke of the Traon Empire, swear, in the name of the Gods: eternal love that will never change, true trust that will never waver, and I will be the winged lion that will protect our new family… — He paused briefly after the passage reserved only for the nobility, and then added: — … I will wield my sword without hesitation for my lady.
The final words echoed the traditional prayer of soldiers. Similarly, Eileen's vow reflected the devotion of a woman marrying a warrior.
— I, Eileen Elrod, representing the family of Baron Elrod, swear in the name of the Gods: eternal love that will never change, obedience without falsehood, and that peace may flourish in our new family like the olive tree . — With profound sincerity, Eileen completed her prayer: — … I will weave the laurel wreath for my knight.
Thus he prayed to the gods that Caesar would always be blessed with the glory of victory.
To be continued…