The Royal Family Can't Stop Pampering Me

CHAPTER ONE: Champagne wishes and Panic attacks

Chapter One
Champagne wishes and Panic attacks.

In the heart of a lavish church, filled with golden chandeliers that lit up the marble floors, a young woman stood at the altar, frozen in her wedding dress.

The delicate lace and silk, once symbols of joy and hope, felt like heavy chains holding her in a moment that spiraled out of control. Her breath quickened, the air thick with the sweet scent of fresh roses and the sharp bite of anxiety.

Around her, chaos erupted. Her family were now locked in a heated argument with her fiancé's parents, their voices rising with each exchanged accusation. Guests gasped in surprise, some whispering behind raised hands, while others simply sat frozen in disbelief and her bridesmaids exchanged worried glances, their faces a mix of shock and concern. The priest, usually calm and steady, stumbled over his words, his voice drowned out by the rising panic. A child in the front row began to cry, the sound cutting through the tension like a siren's wail.

Time felt strange, stretching and bending as her heart raced against her ribcage, each beat echoing in her ears like a tolling bell. She felt detached, as if she were watching the scene unfold from far away, a bystander in her own life. The beautiful stained glass windows seemed to twist, casting colorful shadows that danced mockingly across the floor, turning the sacred space into a strange display of despair.

Her thoughts raced, tumbling over each other like waves crashing on a shore.

Is this really happening?

A cold sweat formed on her back as she searched the crowd for his familiar face, but all she saw were blurred figures—friends, family, and strangers—each looking on with a mix of curiosity and concern, but none able to break through the wall of panic surrounding her.

As whispers grew louder and turned into frantic shouts, she felt the weight of the moment pull her back to reality. The lavish church, once a place of joy, now felt like a tomb—a grave for her dreams, buried under the weight of expectations and betrayal.

"Where is he?" a voice croaked out, her own trembling with disbelief. She glanced at the empty space where her fiancé, James, was supposed to be standing. Her stomach churned, anxiety gnawing at her insides. "He should be here by now..."

"Sophie!" A familiar voice broke through her fog of shock. Sam, her maid of honor, rushed to her side, her expression a mix of concern and sadness. "I'm so sorry."

How could this be happening?

Slowly, Sophia's friends moved to her side, each of them instinctively reaching out to create a protective circle around her.

"We've got you," one whispered, her voice steady and reassuring, while another held Sophia's gaze, eyes filled with sadness.

"Do you want us to call your parents? Or maybe your sister?" another friend asked, her brow furrowed with worry.

She glanced back at her family, still embroiled in a heated argument with James's parents, and shook her head. "No..." Sophia whispered, struggling against the tears threatening to spill. A wave of helplessness crashed over her, as if the ground were crumbling beneath her feet, leaving her teetering on the edge, uncertain of what to do next.

"I can't believe this is happening," One of her friends exclaimed, her voice thick with anger. "He said he'd be here! He seemed so excited! What a jerk!"

"Seriously!" Another friend chimed in, her hands clenched into fists. "Who does that? You don't just leave someone hanging like this on their wedding day!"

Sophia shook her head, clinging to the faint hope that there was an explanation. "M-Maybe something happened on the road? Perhaps he's stranded..."

"Something happened?" Another friend snapped, her tone sharp. "I knew it.. I knew it! He's bad news since day one!"