Adeline and Alexander's Wedding Reception

I entered my chambers and slammed the door shut, feeling a surge of frustration. With a swift motion, I tore the veil from my hair and flung it to the floor in a fit of anger.

"My lady, what's the matter?" my lady-in-waiting inquired.

"He publicly denied me," I replied, my voice trembling with disbelief.

"Did you two get married?"

"We did, but only because his father forced him into it," I explained bitterly.

"I'm so sorry, my lady.”

"I don't know why I expected him to actually want to marry me,"

"We've never even met before."

"Would you like me to help you out of this dress, my lady?"

"Yes, thank you.”

Just then, a knock on the door interrupted our conversation.

"Enter," I called out, hastily wiping away my tears.

My father entered the room.

"Adeline, have you been crying?"

"No, Father," I replied, trying to compose myself.

"Adeline, you did an incredible job up there.”

"Thank you, Your Majesty.”

"Your mother and I will be heading home now.”

"You won't be staying for the reception?"

"No, my dear. This is your life now.”

"I bid you safe travels your majesty.”

Dad stormed out of the door. Mom rushed in to console me.

"I'm sorry about your father's sudden departure," she said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm only a letter away if you need me."

"You are beautiful, Adeline.”

“Remember, you have a choice.”

“Don't let him boss you around."

"Mom, how do I handle this?"

"Let him know the real you.”

“In time, you might grow to love one another."

“Thank you mother.”

Mother walked out of the room. I turned to my lady in waiting and addressed her.

“Please help me out of this dress.”

The thought of wearing it again made me frown. Seeing me in that dress would only remind Alexander that he didn't want to be with me.

"Turn down the covers, please.”

"I need to rest before tonight."

I lay down on the bed, wondering what the future held for me and Alexander. With my mother's words of wisdom ringing in my ears, I knew that I had the power to make my own choices and find happiness.

Alexander’s Perspective

In my chambers, my father engaged in a conversation with me.

"Alexander, why are you not by your bride's side?"

My father's voice carried a hint of disappointment.

"I thought she might appreciate some rest, Father."

"You have publicly humiliated that poor girl by leaving her alone at the altar."

"Father, I never wanted this life for myself.”

"I am quite certain she did not want it either.”

"Her father values sons over his daughters.”

"Regardless, I expect to see you at the reception.”

"I will attend.”

"Good, and just to be sure, a guard will escort you."

“As you wish, Father”

"Now, get some rest, my son.”

“You have a long night ahead of you.”

Adeline's Perspective

I woke from a peaceful slumber as my lady-in-waiting gently roused me with a soft whisper.

"Apologies for waking you, miss, but it is time to prepare you for the evening.”

I acquiesced, allowing her skilled hands to dress me once again in the exquisite wedding gown. With practiced precision, she rearranged my hair and makeup until every detail was perfect. Together, we navigated the opulent halls of the castle, where every corner spoke of grandeur and history. The portraits lining the walls seemed to scrutinize me with their noble gazes, each one a testament to the legacy I now joined.

We approached the grand ballroom. The doors swung open, revealing a scene of enchanting splendor. The air was alive with the aroma of delicacies and the murmurs of guests, their attire as resplendent as the setting itself. My eyes were drawn to a towering ten-layer cake, a masterpiece in sugar and cream, commanding attention at the center of the room.

The king, seated regally on a balcony overlooking the festivities, extended a gracious invitation for me to join him. With a flutter of nerves, I ascended the majestic marble staircase, recalling my mother’s advice to move with grace. Each step felt like a delicate balance, a test of poise.

"Please, rise, dear," the king’s warm voice welcomed me as I settled into the seat beside him, mindful to arrange my voluminous skirts with dignity.

Alexander's arrival was a moment of both relief and trepidation. His presence, resplendent and composed, stirred conflicting emotions within me. I had feared his absence, yet his manner left me uncertain of his intentions. His courteous bow to his father drew a fleeting smile from me, masking the turmoil beneath.

Little did I suspect the revelations that would unfold about Alexander's private affairs with women unsuitable for his station—a scandal that would cast a shadow over the evening’s festivities. While the night wore on, tension thickened the air, palpable even as the king blessed the feast and we all partook in solemn silence.

Eventually, the king addressed the tension with measured resolve, directing Alexander’s attention toward me with a request that I had not anticipated.

"Alexander, I believe your wife would like a dance.”

Alexander’s response was tinged with impatience.

"Let's get this over with," he conceded curtly, extending his hand toward me.

I accepted it hesitantly, unsure of his mood or my own feelings. He led me down the stairs with a briskness that surprised me, entering the dance floor to a thunderous applause that disguised the unease between us.

His hand rested firmly on my waist, a touch that conveyed warmth through the layers of my gown. I reciprocated tentatively, allowing him to guide our movements to the rhythm of the music. Amidst the whirl of the dance, his gaze caught mine, his eyes reflecting a confidence that momentarily reassured me.

"I will not let you fall," he murmured, his voice carrying a promise that resonated within me.

"Just look at me."

In that fleeting moment, I surrendered to the dance, finding solace in the grace of his steps and the strength of his embrace. Yet, as the music swelled to its crescendo, a misstep on my part threatened to mar the illusion of harmony. Panic gripped me, but before I stumbled, Alexander’s swift reaction saved me from embarrassment, seamlessly blending our mishap into the choreography, to the applause of the unaware audience.

“Please excuse me.” Alexander said quickly.

Alexander left me standing alone. I was bewildered by his abrupt departure. Had I unwittingly offended him? Was there a deeper rift between us that I had yet to fathom?

I concealed my disappointment with a forced smile, determined not to acknowledge Alexander's absence. Seeking solace, I retreated to the balcony, only to find it empty—my smile fading into a frown as disappointment sank into my heart. Trying to convince myself it didn't matter proved futile; the hurt ran deep.

The king intervened gently, "Alexander needed a moment of fresh air."

Nodding, I masked my disappointment and spent the rest of the evening watching the dancers, longing for Alexander's return that never came.