Restart:Untalented Man

The morning of the 1st of October arrived, marked by a sense of anticipation and nervousness.

In his bedroom, Riz stood before a full-length mirror, meticulously adjusting the final details of his wedding attire.

His gaze lingered on the reflection staring back at him, a mixture of emotions swirling within.

His suit was combined with shades of black and grey, a departure from the traditional white that many might have expected.

His stepmother, a proponent of classic wedding aesthetics, had suggested the pristine colour of white, envisioning a stark contrast against the lush background of the royal gardens.

Yet, Riz had resisted, finding solace in the subdued elegance of darker tones.

The black suit jacket snugly embraced his form, accentuating his build with its tailored precision. Its lapels were crisply defined, exuding an aura of confidence and composure. 𝘪.𝑐ℴ𝘮

The pristine white dress shirt created a striking contrast, its collar meticulously tucked under the jacket’s lapel. Completing the ensemble was a tie in shades of grey, its subdued elegance adding a touch of refinement to the overall look.

With a deft movement, Riz adjusted his cufflinks, fingers grazing the monogram that bore his family’s initials. His attention then turned to his trousers, the same tone of colour that seamlessly complemented the jacket. The fabric was smoothed with care, radiating a sense of polished poise.

Stepping into sleek black shoes, he took a moment to appreciate his reflection. The polished shoes completed his ensemble, a perfect match for the trousers and jacket that adorned his frame.

Standing there, dressed in his chosen outfit, Riz’s emotions swirled. Nervousness and pride intertwined within him, emblematic of the journey he was embarking upon.

Knock!

Knock!

Knock!

A knock interrupted his solitary contemplation. He promptly turned his attention towards the door.

The sound was followed by a voice that held a tone of stern authority, a reflection of the man who spoke.

“Oy, kid! You still in there?” The words were Theodore’s, the man who would soon become his father-in-law.

It seemed he had come to check on him.

With a final adjustment and a steady breath, Riz cast one last look in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Riz replied, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness that he couldn’t quite conceal.

He walked toward the door and opened it, revealing Theodore’s stern yet somewhat familiar visage.

The older man’s eyes briefly swept over Riz’s appearance before he nodded approvingly. “Nice choice of suit, boy,” he commented, a rare trace of a mellow undertone in his voice. .𝒎

Initially, he, similar to Riz’s stepmother, Josephine somewhat opposed the colour of his choosing.

The charcoal black and grey ensemble he wore exuded a dark and moody atmosphere, not exactly complementing the joyous occasion of a wedding.

Nevertheless, there is not much he can do to change Riz’s mind.

The young man, although will be his son-in-law is still the king of a kingdom compared to a mere noble like him.

But now, it is evident that his initial reservations were overturned by seeing Riz dressed in unconventional attire.

Perhaps Theodore had grown accustomed to seeing the young king predominantly clad in black, a preference that had become something of a trademark for Riz.

Riz managed a small smile, his tension easing slightly. “Thanks.”

Theodore’s gaze held a mixture of seriousness and a hint of something resembling concern.

“You good?” he inquired, his gruff voice betraying a touch of unexpected gentleness.

Riz nodded, though his nerves were still palpable. “Y-yeah, why?” he stammered slightly, caught off guard by Theodore’s question.

A faint hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Theodore’s lips. “I thought you might’ve considered running away.”

Riz chuckled a nervous yet genuine sound. “Pssft— Please…” he scoffed playfully, “it’s just a wedding.”

While the majority of the wedding attendees enjoyed the sprawling beauty of the gardens outside, Riz and Theodore directed their steps from Riz’s room towards the audience hall.

Each step echoed with a weight of nervousness.

His stomach churned with a tumultuous storm of emotions that almost caused him to lose his composure.

As they approached the door to the audience hall, Riz’s heart quickened in rhythm with the significance of the occasion.

The door’s polished surface beckoned, and with a shared breath, they pushed it open.

A soft creak resonated through the room as the door swung wide, admitting the two figures into the space beyond.

The atmosphere within the hall shifted immediately.

Heads turned, gazes lifting from their conversations, and the room collectively redirected its attention to the entrance.

Riz’s footsteps echoed softly against the floor. The sound reverberated in the hushed stillness.

As he entered, he felt the weight of countless eyes upon him.

Among the faces turned toward them, Riz’s gaze settled on Theodora, who stood at the front of the hall, radiating a calm yet unmistakable presence.

She was already waiting, her posture poised and dignified. Her attire held a simplicity that accentuated her elegance.

The dress she wore was a tasteful shade of grey, resonating with the tones of his own suit. The fabric draped gracefully around her, its gentle folds and lines reflecting her graceful demeanour. The dress’s design, while unpretentious, was marked by a subtle sophistication.

Riz leaned in slightly towards Theodore, his voice hushed. “Isn’t she looking good in grey?”

Theodore’s response was swift and firm, “White-coloured dress is better,” he said, sticking with the more common colour choice for weddings.

As Theodore moved to the front, Riz halted, positioning himself beside Theodora. He could feel a nerve coursing through him, but her presence provided a comforting anchor.

“You’re late. I’m tired of standing,” Theodora whispered.

“Sorry, I needed to make sure I presented myself well. There’s a lot of guests out there waiting to meet me.” Riz responded.

Theodore cleared his throat, signalling for everyone in the hall to cease their conversations, especially the two main characters of this ceremony.

“Let us begin,” Theodore announced, his voice carrying a blend of authority and solemnity.

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