Fractures and Forging : Flora's Wedding

Location: Valenhart Estate

The morning light spilled through the tall windows of the Valenhart Estate, casting a warm glow over the bustling preparations. Servants scurried through the grand halls, their movements efficient as they carried final touches for the day's grand event. In her chambers, Flora adjusted the delicate lace of her gown, her radiant smile a reflection of her joy. Fredrick stood nearby, his commanding presence softened by the rare tenderness in his gray eyes as he observed his bride-to-be.

Meanwhile, in her quarters, Magda stood before a gilded mirror. Her ornate gown of red and black shimmered subtly, the intricate golden designs accentuating her Valorian heritage. The dress, chosen specifically for this occasion, bore a symbolic weight—a tribute to her bloodline and her role within the family. A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. When she opened the door, two Valenhart guards stood, presenting her with a single blue rose.

"A gift from the estate," one guard explained, bowing deeply. "A recognition of your place in the Valenhart lineage."

Magda accepted the rose, her crimson eyes softening. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice tinged with emotion. She placed the flower delicately among the golden accents of her gown before making her way to the chapel.

-----

In another wing of the estate, Calista rummaged through her wardrobe with practiced ease. A natural at mix-and-match, she paired a flowing robe with intricate embroidery that combined practicality and elegance. By the time she stepped out, accompanied by Ruri, the mage tower's head, her appearance reflected both her magical expertise and her understated flair.

-----

Vivian, however, faced a different struggle. In the quiet confines of her quarters near the Imperial Guard's camp, she removed her uniform, revealing a torso marred with bruises.

The chill of the previous day had numbed the pain, but now, with the warmth of the morning, the bruises throbbed painfully.

Her earlier exertions and the constant rubbing of fabric, now mixed with sweat, had reopened the wounds, worsening the injuries. She caught her breath as she pressed a hand against the worst of them, a faint trace of blood staining her fingers. She stared at her reflection, her emerald eyes shadowed with pain and frustration.

Pulling out the green gown Magda had insisted she bring, she added a high-collared underlayer to conceal the bruises across her neck and collarbone. Her movements were mechanical, each tug of fabric a deliberate act to hide her vulnerability.

She dared not check beneath her undershirt, knowing the sight would only deepen her unease.

Steeling herself, Vivian emerged from her quarters, her gown modest yet striking. The high turtle neck addition gave her an air of quiet resilience. Outside, she encountered Ethan, who stood in his formal attire, every detail meticulously in place. His stoic expression didn't falter as he greeted her.

"Dame Vivian," he began formally, but there was a flicker of awkwardness in his tone. "Do you have a partner for the wedding?"

Vivian tilted her head slightly, her emerald eyes narrowing in subtle curiosity. "Are you asking me out of duty or something else?"

Ethan's gaze flickered downward briefly, uncertainty shadowing his otherwise stoic demeanor.

"If you don't already have a partner, I thought… perhaps you'd accompany me," he said, his voice even, though it softened with each word, betraying a rare hint of vulnerability.

Her heart sank as she recalled the previous night. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?" she asked carefully, her tone almost casual.

Ethan hesitated, his brow furrowing briefly. "What happened?"

Vivian's expression dulled, though she had expected the response. The weight of his forgetfulness pressed on her, but she pushed it aside.

"Never mind," she said quietly. When Ethan repeated his invitation, she agreed, unable to refuse him despite the sting of his obliviousness. She reasoned that he, too, deserved not to attend the wedding alone.

The women convened in the main hall, their appearances a blend of grace and purpose. Magda, escorted by Valenhart guards, carried herself with quiet dignity as she prepared to enter the chapel.

Calista's purple robe added a splash of color, her presence calm and composed beside Ruri.

Vivian, her injuries concealed, stood beside Ethan, who remained stoic but carried a subtle awkwardness in his demeanor.

Together, they set out toward the wedding, the air around them charged with unspoken emotions and unacknowledged truths.

Location: Chapel at Valenhart Estate

The chapel of the Valenhart Estate stood as a testament to timeless beauty. Its vaulted ceilings soared high, adorned with intricate carvings of celestial motifs and the Valenhart crest. Sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic hues over the gathered guests. The air was filled with the faint scent of lilies, a flower symbolic of unity and new beginnings in the North.

At the altar, a paladin, resplendent in ceremonial armor, stood ready to officiate. His deep, resonant voice echoed through the space as he began the vows.

Fredrick, dressed in a tailored black coat with silver embroidery, held Flora's hands, his gray eyes locked onto her emerald ones.

Flora, radiant in a gown of soft ivory with delicate golden accents, smiled through tears. Her love for Fredrick was unmistakable, and the guests felt the sincerity of their bond.

Magda watched from her seat, her crimson eyes softening at the sight of the couple. She felt a pang of longing for Micheal, imagining him by her side. But her resolve returned as she reminded herself of her purpose here. She would finish her business in the North swiftly and return to reconcile with him.

When the moment came to finalize the union, the paladin turned to Magda. Rising gracefully, she approached the altar, her imperial seal in hand. The golden insignia gleamed under the light as she pressed it to the parchment, her action instantly legitimizing the union without need for further bureaucracy. The act drew murmurs of approval from the gathered Northern nobility, solidifying Flora and Fredrick's place within the Empire.

As the ceremony reached its conclusion, Magda's gaze lingered on the couple, moved by the depth of their love. She smiled faintly, tucking away her own emotions for now. Her duties here were clear, and she would see them through.

-----

In the back rows, Ethan and Vivian entered quietly. Ethan's stoic demeanor remained unchanged, but there was an unusual lightness to his step, a faint cheerfulness that softened his reserved aristocratic bearing. By his side, Vivian, dressed in her green gown with its unique high collar, appeared unusually subdued. Ethan's sharp gaze, trained by years of discipline, didn't miss her uncharacteristic silence.

Throughout the ceremony, he attempted small, quiet comments, his voice low enough not to disturb the sacred atmosphere. But each time, Vivian offered only curt replies. When he leaned closer, his words tinged with concern, she snapped softly, her tone betraying irritation.

As the newlyweds processed out of the chapel, Fredrick's hand resting gently on Flora's, Ethan and Vivian moved to follow. In the jostle of the crowd, Vivian's shoulder brushed against Ethan's arm.

The slight contact caused her to stumble, and Ethan's hand shot out instinctively to steady her. She winced, the motion almost imperceptible, but his heightened senses caught it immediately.

The faintest smell of blood reached his aura-enhanced senses. His brows furrowed as he whispered, "What is wrong, Vivian?"

"You're imagining things," she replied tersely, her voice firm but lacking its usual strength.

Ethan didn't press further, though unease settled in his chest. His thoughts lingered on her, even as the guests began to disperse.

Fredrick, standing at the chapel's threshold with Flora, glanced back at the scene. Ethan's subtle attentiveness to Vivian and her subdued demeanor caught his eye. The day before, Ethan had confided that he had moved on from Flora and was drawn to another woman. At the time, Fredrick dismissed it as pride or deflection. Now, watching them, he reconsidered. Perhaps Ethan's words held more truth than he had believed.

As the crowd exited into the afternoon light, the joy of the wedding carried on.