𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 (𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝)

35. The White Lady's Secret

Aiore's fists clenched as his bride approached the altar. What is this madness? he thought bitterly. Duke Rosemountain, Arielle's father, of all people, was walking this mysterious woman to him. He couldn't fathom it-was her entire family in on this? How could they support his marriage to another woman when Arielle was the one meant to stand at his side?

He leaned in as his bride came closer, her face fully concealed behind a heavy white veil. Aiore's voice dropped into a dangerous whisper, meant only for her ears. "I don't know what you've done to everyone, but I'll never fall for your tricks," he hissed. "I don't care if my son loves you, or if Aldith believes you're some miracle. I'll never love you."

His bride stood motionless at his side, her veiled face betraying no emotion. Aiore's heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the situation suffocating him. This woman... she has bewitched everyone. Aldith, his son, even Arielle's own family-they all seemed charmed by her. He would show them all her true colors soon enough.

As the priest began the wedding ceremony, Aiore felt a growing dread in the pit of his stomach. The words flowed over him, but none of it felt real. He didn't want this marriage, didn't want anyone but Arielle. His thoughts wandered to her-her gentle smile, her warmth, the way her presence had always made him feel complete. The only reason he stood here now was for his son, and even that felt like a betrayal.

"We are gathered here today to unite this man and woman in holy matrimony..."

The priest's words echoed in the grand hall, but Aiore's mind was elsewhere. His heart felt like it was being torn apart. Every fiber of his being wanted to rebel, to stop this farce. Yet he stood still, bound by duty and the cries of his son for a mother's care. He stared at the woman beside him with growing resentment. Her veiled face, hidden and secretive, only deepened his suspicion.

When the priest called for the exchange of rings, Aiore's hand trembled as he slid the golden band onto her finger. I will never love you. This ring means nothing, he thought bitterly. He was about to pull away when her hand lingered on his.

Then, the priest spoke the dreaded words: "You may now kiss the bride."

Aiore recoiled internally, muttering under his breath, "This is ridiculous..."

Just as he was about to refuse, a soft voice reached his ears-quiet, but unmistakably familiar. "Aren't you going to kiss me?" the bride whispered, her tone both gentle and teasing.

Aiore's breath caught in his throat. His entire body froze, and for a moment, he couldn't move. That voice-he knew it. He knew it.

The bride tilted her head slightly, her words flowing like a playful melody. "We couldn't kiss last time either. This time, I want you to kiss me... hard, as compensation." She paused for a second, before adding with a smile in her voice, "After all, this is our first kiss, isn't it? We have a son of our own, but we've never kissed. Hmph."

Aiore's hand trembled as it reached for the veil. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, each second feeling like an eternity. With trembling fingers, he lifted the heavy fabric away from her face.

Time seemed to stop.

"Arielle?" Aiore's voice came out in a hoarse whisper, disbelief flooding his mind as he blinked, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. His beloved Arielle stood before him, smiling, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"I'm back..." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "for you."

Aiore stared at her, his mind whirling. He couldn't speak-he couldn't even move. His heart was a whirlwind of emotions: joy, confusion, disbelief. For so long, he had believed she was lost to him, and now here she was, standing before him in a wedding gown.

Arielle's tears spilled over as she gazed at him, her smile soft and full of love. Aiore's body moved on its own. He reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around her as if he never wanted to let her go again.

"Arielle..." he whispered her name like a prayer. He released her slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. Lifting her chin gently, he brushed his thumb across her cheek. "This isn't our first kiss," he said softly, his voice full of tenderness. "I've kissed you many times before. You just don't know."

Arielle's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. "Pervert!" she exclaimed, her cheeks puffing out in mock anger. She pouted, crossing her arms but not pulling away from his touch.

Aiore chuckled, the sound soft and filled with relief. "Arielle..." His voice wavered as he caressed her face. "I missed you so much." His lips found hers in a soft, gentle kiss, as if afraid she would disappear if he pressed too hard.

Arielle closed her eyes as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I missed you too," she whispered against his lips.

The kiss deepened as if sealing all the pain and longing they had endured. Aiore held her close, never wanting to let her go again. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them in that moment, lost in each other's presence.

When they finally pulled apart, the hall erupted in applause, though Aiore barely noticed. He couldn't take his eyes off Arielle, still marveling at her being alive, here, with him, though he knew there were still questions left unanswered.

As the applause died down, Aiore turned to Aldith, who stood nearby, his face full of joy and relief.

"You knew," Aiore said, his voice a mixture of accusation and disbelief. "You knew she was alive all along."

Aldith smiled softly, his eyes warm with unspoken understanding. "Yes, brother. I knew. But I couldn't ruin the surprise, could I?"

Aiore shook his head, feeling the weight of the last three years of longing, heartache, and sleepless nights lift off his shoulders. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he could breathe again. The love of his life, the woman he had feared he would never see again, was standing before him, alive and well.

No words could capture the whirlwind of emotions surging through him. His heart, once heavy with despair, now beat with renewed hope and joy.