The prophecy of a blind heiress

The price of revenge

The day of the wedding finally arrived, and Lady Victoria's excitement was palpable. As she prepared to take her vows, her mind was consumed by visions of her future reign as queen of Arie kingdom. Her ambition burned brighter with every passing moment, fueled by her thirst for revenge against those who had wronged her family.

"I will finally avenge my parents' tragic death," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling with determination.

Lord Leoswood, her betrothed, was equally consumed by his own lust for power. Though he knew that their actions were unjust, his blind ambition had led him down a treacherous path, causing immense suffering throughout the kingdom. The once-peaceful realm was now plagued by fear, uncertainty, and discontent.

Lady Victoria's plan was to use the wedding as a means to an end. Once she was married, she intended to imprison Princess Hazel, the rightful heir to the throne, and claim the crown for herself. The nobles, who had long suspected that something was amiss, were powerless to stop her. They were trapped in a web of fear, intimidated by Lady Victoria's ruthless tactics and Lord Leoswood's formidable influence.

As the ceremony began, the kingdom's subjects gathered to witness the union. They wore masks of celebration, but beneath the surface, anxiety and apprehension simmered. The air was thick with tension, heavy with the knowledge that this wedding marked the beginning of a dark and ominous era.

Little did the kingdom's subjects know, the true horror was only just beginning. Lady Victoria's thirst for power and revenge would stop at nothing, threatening to destroy the very fabric of their world. The fate of Arie kingdom hung in the balance, as the wedding bells tolled, signaling the start of a reign of terror.

The grand cathedral was ablaze with the golden glow of a thousand candles, casting a hypnotic spell over the sea of expectant faces. The air was heavy with the sweet scent of roses and the soft murmur of hushed conversations.

Lady Victoria, resplendent in a gown of ivory silk, her raven tresses cascading down her back like a waterfall of night, stood poised at the altar. Her eyes, like two glittering sapphires, shone with a fierce determination, her lips curled into a subtle, enigmatic smile.

Lord Leoswood, dashing in his black tuxedo, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with a sense of triumph, stood beside her, his hand grasping hers in a firm, possessive grip.

As the archbishop began to speak, his voice booming through the cathedral, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. The guests, a veritable who's who of the kingdom's nobility, exchanged nervous glances, their faces masks of polite indifference.

Princess Hazel, the rightful heir to the throne, sat in the front pew, her blind eyes fixed on Lady Victoria with a mixture of sadness and defiance. Her presence was a stark reminder of the injustice that was about to unfold.

As the ceremony progressed, the shadows in the cathedral seemed to deepen, as if darkness itself was closing in around the assembly. The air grew thick with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the soft rustle of fabric and the creaking of the old wooden pews.

And then, in a moment that seemed to suspend time itself, Lady Victoria and Lord Leoswood exchanged their vows, their voices echoing through the cathedral like a death knell.

The assembly erupted into a chorus of forced congratulations, the sound echoing off the stone walls as the newlyweds shared a triumphant kiss. But beneath the surface, the kingdom's subjects seethed with discontent, their faces hidden behind masks of polite celebration.