The Duke's Passion

I had imagined what our wedding would look like many times. Held on a beautiful, cloudless day, I envisioned myself walking down the aisle, holding a sheaf of wheat and chaplets of beautiful flowers on my head.

If I had a veil, behind it was a smile as I looked to my left. There, I would see Old Olly, the children, and others smiling back at me. Maybe Old Olly would cry, as she had been a mother to me. 

My heart would warm up as I hold back my tears of happiness. And then, turn to my right to see Fabian and Rufus, along with everyone in the Duke's residence. 

As usual, Fabian would smile from ear to ear, while Rufus would keep his stoic expression. I'd then giggle if I see Fabian gazing at Rufus to tell him to hide his boredom. 

After that, I would look ahead. What I would see was a gorgeous man, with his bright argent hair matching his white suit. 

He'd smile at me lovingly, and I would smile back. He would then extend his hand to me — the hand I would hold forever — and I'd clasped it.

We would both stand in front of the altar, promising a love of a lifetime, in sickness and in health, for better, for worse, till death do us part. And then, he'd lift my veil slowly and I'd see how his eyes marveled once our eyes met.

He'd smirk, I'd smile. 

We'd be then husband and wives, sealed with a simple, yet magical kiss. Applause from the back would resonate as they would congratulate us happily.

It was a pleasant daydream, but reality always differed from expectation.

My wedding, the real one, wasn't what I expected it to be. It wasn't held in the clear sunny day, but in the middle of the night. My guests weren't people who wished us well from the bottom of their hearts, but those who opposed this marriage.

I held the bouquet of poisonous flowers, which only bloomed in Avolire Palace. If I raise it to smell it, I'd be dead. My hand trembled. If not for the gloves I'm wearing, I'm not sure what could've happened to my hands.

Although the wedding dress was beautiful — exceeding my imagination — it was not enough to soothe my anxiety. After all, what's in front of me was a shut door. 

Gazing at it didn't fill me with anticipation. Instead, I felt like I was standing at death's door, that once it opened, it'd be eternal damnation.

A wedding held in hell. What did I expect? 

'Are you disappointed?' My subconscious mind asked.

"Disappointed…?" I whispered as I smiled bitterly. "More like terrified."

This wedding didn't feel like arranged out of love. It felt more like a wedding held out of convenience. 

I didn't know the exact reason, but I had these strange, ominous gut feelings. My feelings for Sam never changed; I loved him, I still do and would always do. I would marry him even if it's pouring rain or even if it's the end of the world. 

However, I had been bothered by how Stefan agreed to it so easily at that. I'm worried about how Sam got his blessing. Did Sam threaten Stefan? I didn't think a threat would budge the king.

After what Sam did last night, I didn't think a threat would faze Stefan. Unless they had made a deal… a deal, huh? I wondered what could it be if that was the case.

"It's alright," I murmured as I mentally shrugged the negativity in my head. "I shouldn't think like that. This is still my wedding. It wouldn't be that bad, right?"

"And what made you think like that?" I jumped upon hearing a voice from my side.

"Yul?" I called out in disbelief as I faced him. "What are you doing here?" 

"Checking on you, isn't that obvious?" Yul said sarcastically as he gazed at me from head to toe. "Don't do this."

"There you go again," I said, shaking my head. "Why do you always give me warning without an explanation? It's not really nice, you know?"

My last remarks came out as a murmur as I gazed down. I never thought of backing out, despite how reality ruined my expectation for our wedding.

"You said…" Yul trailed off, and I looked at him in puzzlement. "… you'd break for sure if you see him looking at another woman."

I frowned upon hearing my words last night coming out of his mouth. "Are you saying my groom will cheat on me?" 

"No," Yul replied calmly as he leaned his back against the door's jamb, crossing his arms as he looked at nothingness. "I just thought, if you break over such a trivial thing, you'd still break at one point."

"Are you concerned about me?" I teased, feeling a little consoled by it.

"You can think of it however you like." He shrugged as he cocked his head to me. "I'm not even sure myself."

I smiled as my eyes softened. "Yul," I said, as I averted my gaze back to the door. "In the past, Sam told me that no matter how strong a person is, there's always a breaking point."

The anxiety in my heart slowly subsided, but not completely. But it was enough to calm me a little, and accept things as they were. 

"I didn't agree to this thinking whether it'd break me or complete me. I'm standing here right now because I love your brother, for better, for worse, I will at least abide by that." The corner of my lips curled into a subtle smile.

"You're a fool who only thinks about food." Yul scoffed as he straightened his back and was about to walk away. "What did I expect from a fool like you but to say nonsense?"

I almost giggled at his reply. I would find it annoying on normal days, but it felt somewhat warm now. It was as if those words came from a friend.

"Yul," I called out softly, and he halted. "Thank you for checking on here."

Yul said nothing as he resumed in his strides while I smiled. It wasn't much for him, but his genuine concern — from the person I expected the least — eased my worries.

"The wedding…" I took a deep breath and my eyes sharpened as the door slowly opened. "… will now commence."