The palace shimmered with a different kind of energy that day.
It was not the familiar urgency of preparation that had filled the halls for weeks. It was not the heavy tension of prophecy that usually weighed on everyone's shoulders. This was something softer. Something lighter. Something beautifully, unmistakably human.
Aerion stood at the entrance of a large chamber and stared inside with visible hesitation. His shoulders were squared like he was about to face a battlefield, not a fitting.
"I don't like this already," he said flatly.
Lyria, standing beside him, smiled sweetly. Her eyes danced with the kind of amusement that only came when she knew she was about to win.
"You haven't even entered yet."
"Exactly why I don't like it."
Before he could take a step back, she grabbed his wrist. Her grip was gentle but unyielding.
"Too late," she said, and pulled him inside.
The room was filled with fabrics. Silks caught the light from the tall windows. Velvets pooled like liquid shadow across tables. Royal threads woven with gold and silver glinted from dozens of outfits displayed on mannequins, tables, and hanging racks. Designers stood ready with measuring tapes and pins. Attendants whispered behind their hands. In the center of it all stood a large platform where the final selections would be made.
Aerion stopped just past the threshold and took it all in.
"This is unnecessary," he declared.
Lyria turned toward him, unimpressed. "It's a royal wedding."
"Still unnecessary."
She stepped closer and lowered her voice just enough that only he could hear. "You're not escaping this."
He sighed, the sound of a man abandoning his last hope. "I had hope."
"Lose it."
The phoenix fluttered into the room right after them. Its wings stirred the air and made the silks ripple. It landed softly on a nearby table and its glowing eyes widened as it took in the glittering chaos.
"So many shiny things," it said in awe.
Lyria glanced at it without turning her head. "Don't burn anything."
"I will behave," the phoenix promised.
Aerion muttered under his breath, "That's what you said last time."
One of the royal designers stepped forward and bowed. "Princess Lyria, we have prepared multiple options for both of you."
Lyria nodded. "Good." Then she turned to Aerion with a smile that meant trouble. "You're going first."
He blinked. "Why me?"
"Because I said so."
"That's not a valid reason."
"It is today."
Moments later, Aerion stood on the platform. He was surrounded, measured, adjusted, and judged. He stared straight ahead with the fixed expression of someone enduring a very dignified form of torture.
"I feel like I'm being inspected," he said.
A designer answered calmly as she pinned a sleeve. "You are."
"Great."
Lyria sat nearby on a low chaise, watching with visible amusement. She rested her chin on her hand.
"This is fun," she said.
Aerion gave her a look. "For you."
"Very much."
The first outfit was placed on him. It was deep royal black with gold accents along the collar and cuffs. Elegant. Sharp. Powerful. The cut emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and the straight line of his spine. He stepped down from the platform slightly.
"Done?" he asked.
Lyria tilted her head and observed him carefully. "Hmm." She let the pause stretch. "Turn around."
He didn't move. "No."
"Turn around."
"No."
She crossed her arms. "Aerion."
He sighed and slowly turned. The room went quiet for a moment. The whispers stopped. Even the designers paused.
Because it suited him. Perfectly.
Lyria's expression softened slightly, and the teasing edge in her eyes gave way to something warmer. "Okay. That looks good."
Aerion nodded once, already reaching for escape. "Then we're done."
"We are not done."
The second outfit came. This one was white and gold. Lighter. Brighter. Almost radiant in the afternoon light. Aerion looked down at it and frowned.
"This is too much."
Lyria stood up and walked closer. "No." She looked at him carefully, not at the clothes but at him. "This one." A small smile appeared. "This one feels right."
Aerion raised a brow. "Feels right?"
"Yeah." She stepped back slightly to take him in fully. "It suits who you are. Not just how you look."
For a moment he didn't respond. The designers held their breath. Then he gave a small, reluctant nod. "Alright."
The phoenix suddenly flew toward him and landed on his shoulder. Its claws clicked against the gold embroidery.
"Papa looks shiny," it declared proudly.
Lyria laughed softly. "He does."
Aerion sighed. "I regret everything."
Now it was Lyria's turn. She stepped onto the platform, and for the first time since entering the room, Aerion paid full attention. His arms uncrossed.
The first dress was elegant. Deep blue, flowing, beautiful. The fabric moved like a midnight river. But he shook his head slightly.
"Not that one."
Lyria looked at him, curious rather than offended. "Oh? Why?"
"It doesn't feel like you."
She raised a brow. "And what does?"
"I'll know when I see it."
The second dress came. Soft silver. Graceful. Light as air. She stepped forward slightly and the fabric whispered around her ankles.
Aerion watched silently. Then he said, "No."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're getting picky."
"Maybe."
The third one was brought out. White, with golden threads woven delicately through it like sunlight through clouds. Simple, yet radiant. When she stepped forward, the room went quiet.
Aerion didn't speak immediately. For a moment, he forgot how.
Lyria looked at him and waited. "Well?"
He walked closer. Slowly.
"That one," he said.
"You're sure?"
"Yeah." He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was quieter. "That's the one."
Her expression softened. The confidence in her stance eased into something more vulnerable. "Then I trust you."
The phoenix flew between them, circling once before hovering at eye level.
"Mummy looks like light," it said, awed.
Lyria smiled gently. "Thank you."
After the outfits came the rings. A smaller table was prepared and covered in velvet. Dozens of rings were placed carefully in rows. Each one unique. Each crafted with precision, some set with stones that caught the light and threw it across the ceiling.
Lyria picked one up. It was simple. Elegant. A smooth band with a single, understated line of gold.
"Too plain?" she asked, turning it in her fingers.
Aerion looked at it. "No."
"Too simple?"
"No."
"Then?"
He stepped closer. "It's perfect."
She looked at him, searching his face. "Really?"
"Yeah." He held her gaze. "It doesn't need to be complicated."
Her expression softened again. "Neither do we."
She picked another one for him. Slightly darker. Stronger. The metal had a faint, weathered texture, but it matched hers in width and curve.
"This one," she said.
Aerion took it. He looked at it, turning it over once. "I like it."
She smiled. "Good."
The phoenix suddenly jumped onto the table, scattering a few of the less important rings.
"Can I have one?" it asked, hopeful.
Both of them looked at it.
"No," they said in unison.
"Why?"
"Because you're not getting married," Lyria answered.
"Yet," Aerion added without thinking.
Silence fell. Then Lyria burst into laughter. "AHAHA. What?"
Aerion stared straight ahead, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "We are not discussing that."
The room filled with soft laughter. Warmth replaced the earlier tension. Lightness settled over the chamber like dust motes in the sun. For a moment, there was no prophecy. No danger. Just people choosing a future.
As everything settled, Aerion and Lyria stood side by side. Outfits chosen. Rings selected. Seven days remaining until the wedding.
Lyria looked at him. "It's getting real."
He nodded. "Yeah."
A small pause stretched between them. It was not empty. It was full of everything they weren't saying yet. Then he took her hand. Gently. Naturally. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
She looked at him. There was no hesitation in her eyes. "I've been ready."
The phoenix looked up at them, tilting its head. "Together?"
They both smiled.
"Always," they said together.
Golden light filled the room as the sun began to set. It poured through the windows and turned the silks to flame, the velvets to shadow, and the two of them to something almost mythic.
And for a moment, everything felt perfect.
To be continued…