The Rose Princess

One: The Royal Wedding

The kingdom of Moorcrest was alive with anticipation and excitement, a palpable energy that seemed to infuse the very air. Banners fluttered from every window, and the streets were filled with people eager to catch a glimpse of the grandest event of the decade: the royal wedding of King Remi and Princess Ceriva.

The castle was a flurry of activity. In the grand hall, servants and staff moved with practiced efficiency, transforming the space into a vision of opulence. Garlands of roses and lilies cascaded from the high arches, filling the hall with their sweet fragrance. Long tables were set with the finest linens and china, each place meticulously arranged with gleaming silverware and crystal goblets. The great chandeliers, newly polished, sparkled like a constellation of stars.

In the kitchens, the chefs and cooks worked tirelessly, their movements a well-choreographed dance. Platters of roasted meats, fresh fish, and seasonal vegetables were prepared with meticulous care. Delicate pastries and towering confections awaited their final touches. The air was rich with the mingling aromas of roasting meats, baking bread, and exotic spices.

Outside, the nobles of the realm arrived in splendid carriages, their occupants dressed in their finest attire. Footmen assisted the ladies and gentlemen as they descended, their laughter and chatter adding to the festive atmosphere. They made their way through the castle's terrace, admiring the grandeur of the decorations and the promise of a lavish celebration.

In a private chamber, away from the bustling activity, Princess Ceriva stood before a grand mirror, resplendent in her wedding gown. The ivory silk clung to her slender frame, adorned with intricate lace and delicate pearls. Yet, despite her beauty, her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"Mother," Ceriva whispered, her voice trembling, "I do not want this. I feel so alone, so far from home."

Her mother, Queen August of Luxia, stood behind her, a stern expression on her face. She stepped forward, her hands firm on Ceriva's shoulders. "Enough of this, Ceriva. Luxia is no longer your home. You are soon to be the Queen of Moorcrest and your duty is to your kingdom. You must put aside your childish fears and fulfill your role. This is your home now."

Ceriva wiped her tears, nodding despite the heaviness in her heart. "Yes, Mother." Ceriva looks at Lilia through the mirror. She offered a reassuring smile as she fixed her veil.

In the great hall, King Remi stood at the altar, a figure of strength and dignity. His eyes occasionally flickered to the entrance, waiting for the moment his bride would appear. He wore his ceremonial attire with grace, every detail meticulously chosen to reflect the significance of the day.

As the doors opened and the music swelled, Ceriva took a deep breath, her mother's words echoing in her mind. She began her walk down the aisle, each step a blend of fear and resolve. The nobles rose to their feet, their gazes fixed on the radiant bride.

Remi's eyes locked onto Ceriva's, a mixture of hope and determination in his gaze. As she approached, he reached out, taking her hand in his. Together, they turned to face the priest, ready to exchange the vows that would unite their kingdoms.

The ceremony proceeded with solemnity and grace, each vow spoken with clarity and purpose. As the final words were said and the union was sealed with a kiss, the hall erupted in applause. The kingdom of Moorcrest celebrated the new union, a beacon of hope and prosperity for the future.

The celebration that followed was a feast for the senses. The great hall, now a banquet hall, was filled with laughter and music. Nobles toasted to the health and happiness of the newlyweds, their goblets brimming with the finest wines. Musicians played lively tunes, and dancers twirled gracefully across the polished floor.