Chapter 3- The Royal Wedding

The royal court was ablaze with resplendent grandeur as the wedding ceremony was about to begin. The
entrance resounded with the clip-clopping of hooves on cobblestones as guests arrived, primarily
composed of highborn individuals and dignitaries hailing from other kingdoms under the Lycan Crown.
Trumpets heralded a majestic fanfare, proclaiming the arrival of each guest, while the crowd gathered to
wave flags, cheer enthusiastically, and even throw flowers. The anticipation to catch a glimpse of the
noble entourages was palpable.
As Lady Lilac's arrival unfolded, it inevitably stirred intrigue. The customary cheers seemed to hush into
low whispers and gasp when the distinctive purple banners of Delta Lavendair's house became visible.
When she stepped out of the carriage, she sensed the piercing gazes, the sidelong glances, and the curious
stares. Despite her veil shrouding almost her entire form, the tension in the air was unmistakable. Instead
of cowering before it, she brushed it off and pressed forward. No longer a timid girl, the disdainful and
unwelcoming looks held no power to intimidate her as they once had. She continued on her path,
progressing toward the venue, and seated herself at the very rear, following her mother's instructions.
Meanwhile, Clara blended into the crowd of servants, vigilantly keeping an eye on her mistress.
"Is that Delta Lavendair's other daughter?"
"The veiled creature, undoubtedly her."
"What business does she have at her mate's wedding?"
"How strange it is to see two women veiled today."
"That's quite unusual for a wedding."
"Would you rather have her wandering without a veil?"
"Certainly not, but I'm genuinely curious about what lies beneath."
Lady Lilac was renowned, albeit for reasons that provided little solace. First, her birth had been perceived
as an ominous sign. Second, her mate's story was one of misfortune. Third, her marriage was deemed
scandalous, given that her husband belonged to a group that the entirety of the Moon Claw territory
regarded as savages—a status seemingly lower than even commoners. He was one of the fortunate
individuals who, at the peak of the crown's dire need, had been extended positions in the Lycan army.
While her husband's fate remained unknown due to his failure to return even after the crown's victory
against invaders, the presumption held by Delta Lavendair's household was that he had perished in battle,
becoming one of the unidentified bodies the crown had been unable to recognize. The only reason his
assets hadn't been reclaimed by the crown yet was the time-consuming process of presumptive death
proceedings, and for some unexplained reasons, the crown had not actively pursued his assets.
To Lilac, however, he was nothing more than a stranger. She had encountered the man solely on their
wedding day, and he had swiftly departed after the ceremony. Their marriage had not even been
consummated, as he had left immediately after exchanging vows. Yet, no one appeared to care, as long as
Delta Lavendair, like the other nobles, managed to escape the battlefield. Lilac had not heard from him
since, not even after eight long years.
“The ceremony is about to start,” One of the guests shrieked excitedly, pulling all of Lilac’s attention to
the center. Announcements and music started filling the place and after ethereal minutes of waiting,
finally, somebody came walking down the aisle. Lilac felt Sigmund XII’s presence, her mate. His blonde
hair and royal clothes walking with pride as if his mate wasn’t at one corner trying to hold her heart
together after it was shattered in pieces. She wondered if there was a time that Sigmund had also grieved
their dying connection, as she had. However, with the genuine big smiles she felt he wore on his face that
day, the answer was certainly a no.
Soon, Lilac felt her sister, Violet, gracefully making her way down the aisle. It had been quite a while
since Lilac had been in the same room with her sister. Lady Violet had spent the majority of her days
within the royal court, while Lilac had been confined to their own residence. Violet retained her striking
beauty—perfect blonde hair that harmonized with that of the prince, and skin as flawless as a pearl. She
moved at a measured and elegant pace, her gown's train trailing behind her like a river of clouds, painting
the aisle white. All eyes were fixed on her with a mixture of admiration and envy.
Lady Violet was the epitome of a flawless bride.
Even Lilac herself takes pride on Violet’s beauty. She felt her sister’s presence from a distance, observing
her procession down the aisle that was supposed to be hers. She stood as a silent observer, her face tinged
with sadness. Nevertheless, she smiled genuinely for her sister, offering her sincere wishes for happiness
and prosperity. At least one of them would become a royal Luna. At least one of them could bring honor
to their father's name.
Lilac followed each of her sister’s steps. When Violet finally reached the altar, Lilac froze. She heard a
slight call of her name coming from the altar, an unconscious whisper perhaps from the mate who had
rejected her? Did Sigmund whisper her name? She wondered how he had managed to locate her amidst
the crowd of hundreds of nobles but perhaps it was only her imagination.
Perhaps it was his wolf," Lilac speculated, her mind attempting to uncover reasons why Sigmund XII
would deliberately call on her during his own wedding, right in front of his soon-to-be bride and the
numerous nobles present. His wolf might have detected her presence, rebelling against the notion that his
human self was joining with another woman who wasn't their true mate. Thankfully, Sigmund was not
foolish enough to allow his wolf to disrupt the country's grandest wedding of the year. He redirected his
attention to his beautiful bride before she had the opportunity to take note of his minor transgression.
The wedding unfolded, progressing until the moment arrived for the wedding vows to be exchanged.
Lilac released a deep sigh, allowing her mind to wander in search of solace within her surroundings. Part
of her longed to escape, to retreat to a sanctuary where she could freely express her emotions without
facing judgment. She yearned for space to breathe, a haven where she could unleash her pent-up
frustrations. Nevertheless, her sense of duty and decorum prevailed over her shattered heart. She
remained in place, gripping the fabric of her dress as she listened to her mate profess his unwavering love
for another.
"Dear Goddess, grant me the strength to endure this," she silently prayed.
Fate, for whatever inexplicable reason, seemed to answer her plea, though in the most distasteful manner
imaginable.
Ding-ding-ding-ding!
The pealing of bells shattered the atmosphere even before the vows could be completed, transforming the
previously jubilant scene into one of apprehension and foreboding.
"We're under attack!"