The Wedding

Returning to the present, Meribella's heart pounded as she entered the grand cathedral.

Edwyn straightened his back, ready to welcome his bride. At twenty-five, he had grown into a man of sharp power and quiet grace. He was tall with broad-shouldered, his build lean yet strong—not overly muscular, but perfectly balanced, built for speed, precision, and control rather than brute strength.

His face was flawless, with a sharp and defined jaw, high cheekbones, and a straight, noble nose—the kind of features that belonged to a man destined to rule and enchant. The gods had undoubtedly blessed him in matters of looks.

His blue eyes were intense, making it difficult to look away. They seemed to see everything while revealing nothing. His light golden hair was sleek and thick, expertly combed back, with half of it elegantly tied into a bun, and the rest flowed down to his waist.

This was Crown Prince Edwyn, the Crimson Crown, the chosen one!

His blue eyes caught hers through the sheer fabric of her veil, and then—he smiled.

A warm, knowing smile which melted her heart just like every time! It stole the breath from her lungs and sent a thousand butterflies bursting into flight inside her chest.

"How could he be so distracting to my attention?" she inquired herself.

She glanced to her left while walking towards the alter and then turned to the right, where her family and the villagers admired her.

She was no longer simply the daughter of a fallen house; it would no longer hold significance.

Today, she was set to become the bride of the crown prince. Soon, she would be his queen. Just as Edwyn had promised her.

She paused before the three stairs that led to him.

He stood waiting, dressed in pristine white, gold embroidery lacing through his royal robes. His cape, made of thin gold, flowed elegantly to the floor. And he looked divine.

She envisioned the future they might share. Suddenly, a sobbing sound snapped her into high alert. Her body grew tense, and she instinctively gripped her bouquet more firmly. The delicate flowers started quivering in her hands.

"Meribella... Bella," a female voice called to her. The voice she heard was filled with anguish as if someone were standing right beside her. The sound was sharp and chilling as if carried by a cold breeze. "I am waiting." That voice was followed by another heart-wrenching, raw cry, full of desperation.

"How is it that you can smile while I'm suffering so intensely? Have you really turned cold-hearted?" This anguished shout echoed painfully in her ears.

Meribella's breath caught, and a deep sadness welled within her heart. Her smile faded away though she tried to mask her distress under a straight face.

"Do you really believe this marriage can hide who you are? They will discover the truth and burn you alive at the scaffold, and then people will enjoy watching you suffer, relishing every scream."

The intensity of her cry grew stronger. Meribella could feel it deep within her bones. "Don't go through with the marriage. You have no right to be happy while we are in pain."

She was grateful the veil hid her emotions. Lightly shaking her head in hopes that no one would catch her fleeting distress. This was an opportunity for a fresh start, a chance to move past the shadows that had plagued her for such a long time. Nothing would stop her from achieving her childhood dream. Nothing would hold her back anymore.

Edwyn then stepped down one stair, extending his hand toward her.

She only stared at it for a moment—long fingers, strong, steady—a hand that had wielded swords and kindness. A hand that now waited for hers.

Meribella inhaled deeply. She placed her hand in his, feeling the warmth seep into her skin, and took the final steps forward until she faced him. The touch sent a shiver down her spine—but not from fear.

"Meribella," he whispered as he held her gaze, his voice rich like velvet and deep as the night. "You made me wait too long."

Her heart fluttered when she heard her name spoken by him, a sound she had often heard from his soft lips, and yet each time he said her name, it felt as if she was hearing it for the first time, causing her heart to skip a beat.

Her lips trembled, but she managed to smile beneath her veil.

"Not anymore," her voice was barely above a whisper, but every word was soaked with truth.

The space between them narrowed as if the world had suddenly shrunk into nothing, and all that mattered was the two of them standing on the precipice of a new beginning.

But then the priest cleared his throat, snapping the moment back into reality. Their hands parted as they turned toward the altar.

"We are gathered here today to witness the union of Crown Prince Edwyn the Crimson Crown and Lady Meribella Faye," the priest's solemn voice filled the cavernous space while his gold-embroidered robes caught the candlelight.

And his following words sent a ripple through the crowd.

"If any individual present has a reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, please state your objections at this time or forever hold your peace."

A heavy silence settled over the church, far from peaceful.

Many wanted to object—their pride, blood, and lineage rebelled against this unholy union.

Among the noblewomen, resentment burned hot. This should have been one of them.

Not her! Not the 'Witch' and 'Bitch' Meribella!

And yet—she stood at the altar, wearing silk and veils, next to the Crown Prince.

In the nobles' eyes, she must have done something to the King or the Crown Prince to compel this marriage. To stand beside the throne, to be the next most powerful woman after the King, Queen, and Crown Prince.

They would never accept her. Her doomed fate was sealed by every noble present in the church.

The three women who had gossiped earlier—those who had whispered of witchcraft and blood rituals—their words only solidified what the nobles already feared.

If Meribella became Crown Princess, she would gain control over the palace and its people, manipulating them just as she had bewitched her naïve villagers, who saw her as an innocent angel.

How could they let the Crimson Crown stain its divine lineage by taking a fallen noble—suspected witch—as Crown Princess?

Never! She must burn!

Seated among other nobles, Lady Evelyne Halbrecht, the youngest daughter of Duke Halbrecht, felt rage clawing at her throat like a caged beast. Her breath came out in sharp, uneven bursts.

Her gaze snapped to the altar, to the girl dressed in silk and veils, standing where she should have been—where anyone else should have been.

'Meribella Faye. A witch. A fraud. No one welcomed a witch—not in any kingdom or continent.' Evelyne cursed her.

If she spoke now, the priest would handle the rest. The church would burn her alive. Justice would be swift.

She inhaled sharply, gathering the air needed to stand and scream the words that would seal Meribella's fate. But then a hand clamped around her wrist.

She whipped her head around, fury blazing in her blue eyes, only to meet her mother's stern brown gaze.

"Don't!" The warning was barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of iron shackles.

Evelyne jerked her wrist, trying to break free. "Mother, let me go. I must speak now before it's too late."

The Duchess of Halbrecht didn't waver. Her grip tightened on Evelyne's wrist. "Do you want to be executed?"

Her words punched the breath from Evelyne's lungs. Her mother's face was unreadable, but her cold stare held an unmistakable truth.

"The King had approved this wedding. To oppose it publicly—to question his decree—is not bravery. It is a suicide."

Her mother's eyes softened seeing her daughter's broken heart. She dreamed of being a crown princess since she was a child. Everyone in the palace was sure she would be the one next to Crown Prince Edwyn but that witch stole it from her daughter.

She continued this time in a soft tone. "The Crimson Crown won't tolerate being mocked in public, not by that witch or you. You both will face execution, and I am sure you don't want that."

She was trying to make her see the reason before she put the whole Helbrecht family into doom. "We will talk about this when we are back home. You can still be crown princess!"

Her reasoning did calm her daughter's rage for now.

If not now, then later, but she will expose this ugly witch later, Evelyne thought. And by doing so, she will earn the trust of the royals. Once the nasty, ugly witch is burned, she will be mostly given the chance to be the next crown princess.

With a bitter exhale, she steadied her breath.

And the nobles who waited for Evelyn to take a stand now sighed in silent defeat. One by one, they let their objections die in their throats.

After scanning the crowd, the priest took a breath, preparing to proceed with the ceremony. He opened his mouth to say something but before a word escaped his parted lips, a deep and confident voice tore through the silence.

"I object to this marriage!"

The words did not tremble. They did not hesitate.

Every head snapped toward the entrance, where seven figures stood on the threshold, their cloaks deep red and their faces hidden beneath their hoods. They remained unshaken.

"My apologies for being late."

The same voice rang among the seven hooded figures. His tone echoed through the stunned silence with an air of authority.