Chapter 13 - The Wedding Without a Groom
The morning of the wedding arrived beneath a clear blue sky.
Bellavere celebrated without understanding why.
Crowds filled the streets surrounding the Vale estate. Newspapers printed contradictory reports: Elara would marry a foreign prince, a common soldier, Julian Harrow, or no one at all.
The royal palace issued only one statement.
His Majesty will attend a private family ceremony.
No statement identified the groom.
Inside the Vale wedding hall, servants lit hundreds of candles beneath the chandeliers.
White roses climbed the marble columns.
The glass doors reflected sunlight across the floor.
Elara stood in the bridal room wearing a simple white dress.
Helena had offered the Vale diamonds.
Elara refused.
Celestine offered the Ormaran sapphire crown.
Elara refused that too.
“I want to look like myself,” she said.
Helena fastened the final button at the back of the dress.
“You look like your father when he was determined to ruin everyone’s plans.”
Elara met her eyes in the mirror.
“You are attending?”
“I was not invited.”
“You are my mother.”
Helena’s expression trembled.
Selene was still missing.
Miriam had been placed under guard in the estate’s lower rooms, though she had voluntarily provided names, codes, and routes used by the Directorate.
Captain Rian had disappeared before dawn.
His room contained no struggle.
Only a black lion seal.
Adrian refused to replace the plan.
“Rian may be compromised,” Elara argued through a secure telephone.
“He may also be hunting whoever compromised him,” Adrian replied.
“You trust him too much.”
“Possibly.”
“That is not comforting.”
“I will remain outside until the declaration.”
“Promise me you will not enter if the hall becomes unsafe.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“I have already spent a lifetime obeying terrible advice from people claiming it was necessary.”
“You are impossible.”
“I am told it is a royal privilege.”
Before ending the call, his voice softened.
“Elara.”
“Yes?”
“Whatever happens today, choosing you was mine.”
The guests began arriving at noon.
Uncle Alistair wore a gold waistcoat and behaved as though the wedding had been organized for his entertainment.
Lavinia arrived in crimson, a deliberate insult to bridal tradition.
Julian Harrow’s father, Edmund, entered with three bank directors and expressed theatrical concern over his “missing son,” unaware that Elara knew his true son had died eleven years earlier.
Former ministers filled the front rows.
Several wore black lion cuff links.
Princess Celestine sat near the aisle in silver, causing immediate rumors of a royal confrontation.
Helena entered last among the family.
Whispers followed her.
The gunshot wound had weakened her, but cream satin concealed the bandages. Pearls covered the bruising near her collarbone.
She had chosen the exact appearance she would later wear while disowning Elara.
“Why that dress?” Elara asked before they entered the hall.
“Because Selene knows I would choose it.”
“You are bait.”
“So are you.”
“That does not reassure me.”
“For once, we understand each other.”
The ceremony began.
Music rose.
Elara walked alone down the aisle.
No groom waited at the front.
The guests exchanged glances.
Edmund Harrow smiled.
Uncle Alistair checked his watch.
Helena took her position near the first row.
According to the plan, she would publicly reject Elara, provoking any Directorate member who believed the family had successfully isolated the bride.
The priest asked whether they should continue without the groom.
Elara said yes.
Minutes passed.
No signal came from the hidden guards.
Then Helena stepped forward.
“You are no longer part of this family!”
Her voice carried perfectly.
Guests gasped.
Some smirked exactly as expected.
Elara cried, though the tears required no acting.
“I only chose the man I love.”
Helena pointed toward the glass doors.
“Then leave with him, if he exists.”
The chandeliers trembled.
A royal drum sounded outside.
The glass doors opened.
Two rows of guards marched inside.
Elara searched their faces.
Captain Rian was not among them.
Adrian appeared beneath the doorway in royal ceremonial robes.
The room changed.
Every conspiracy, fortune, and family ambition suddenly stood in the presence of a king they had underestimated.
Elara whispered, “You came.”
“I promised.”
Adrian walked toward her.
The lead guard raised his ceremonial staff.
“Bow your heads. His Majesty has come for his—”
A gunshot shattered the chandelier.
The declaration stopped.
Guests screamed and fell beneath tables.
Royal guards drew weapons.
Adrian lunged toward Elara.
Helena pushed Lavinia aside as crystal rained across the marble.
A second shot struck the floor where Adrian had been standing.
“Upper gallery!” someone shouted.
Elara looked up.
A masked shooter stood behind the golden railing.
May you like
Captain Rian.
He aimed directly at Adrian.
