The grand cathedral of the capital stood adorned in silk and gold, bells tolling in harmony with the rhythm of noble hearts.
The wedding of Grand Duchess Amana and Kyle Armstrong had begun. Inside the cathedral, luminescent crystals bathed the guests in soft light, and flower petals rained from the balconies like blessings from the heavens.
Nobles, military leaders, and foreign emissaries stood in hushed awe as Amana entered, dressed in a regal gown that shimmered like moonlight.
At the altar stood Kyle, his presence commanding and calm, eyes locked on the woman who was about to become his wife.
Mikalius, the crown prince, sat in the front row, pride burning in his gaze. With Kyle and Amana united, his path to the throne was clear.
They were not just allies—they were the backbone of his future empire.
But as the priest began the ceremonial rites, Mikalius's expression changed slightly when a messenger slipped beside him and whispered something urgently into his ear.
