The garden looked so beautiful.
White flowers draped every surface; the arch, the chairs, the fountain's edge. The morning light caught the dew on the petals, making them sparkle like scattered diamonds. Rows of wooden chairs faced a simple arch wound with ivy and jasmine, their sweet scent mingling with the freshness of spring. The guests were few: friends, family, those who mattered most. No nobles, no council members, no political agendas. Just people who loved Lysa and Rowan.
Seren stood at the front, wearing a dress of pale blue that matched the morning sky. Her hair was loose. She was Lysa's witness. Across from her, Iris stood stiffly in a dark green gown, her arm still in a sling from her broken wrist. Her dark hair had been braided with white ribbons. She was Rowan's witness.
Between them, the officiant waited; an elderly wolf with silver hair and kind eyes, who had married generations of palace couples.
The music began.
