The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Chapter 2: Shattered Dreams

🌸Adeline🌿

Days after I had met the Duke, I was informed that the wedding ceremony would begin in two days. The news came as a shock—so sudden. I couldn't understand why the decision had been made with such urgency. Whoever had orchestrated this union clearly held more power than any of us could challenge.

I sat by the window of my room with a book in hand, staring out at the trimmed hedges of the garden below. The surroundings outside brought a pang of nostalgia I couldn't quite place. Soon, that would no longer be my life. The realization weighed heavily, like a stone in my chest. I was nervous, and I couldn't stop myself from thinking about how much I would miss Veridonia.

In the corner of my room, the gown had been carefully draped over the mannequin, a strong reminder of the inevitability. Its intricate lace and shimmering fabric symbolized the new role I was expected to embrace—a Duchess of Wintermere, a wife to a man I barely knew.

My parents had done their best to prepare me, to assure me that this marriage would bring stability and honor to our family. Yet, my uncertainty lingered.

As for the Duke—he wasn't seemed unpleasant to talk to—serious, yes, but not unkind. Nor had he treated me like a mere chess piece in a game of politics, judging by his tone. Would he ever see me as more than just another pawn on his chessboard of alliances? His expression hadn't given me any hint at all.

I also couldn't bring myself to hate him. I wasn't that kind of person. I was completely aware that he had been forced into this as well. As a duke, having a wife might have been less about choice and more about necessity—an expectation tied to his position and responsibilities. It must have been another burden he had to bear, just as I had mine. But truthfully, I had no idea what lay ahead for me. All I could guess was that it wouldn't be easy.

Shaking my head, I had tried to push away the rising tide of anxious thoughts. Perhaps reading a book would help me calm down, even just a little. I opened the book I had recently started, flipping through its pages. Slowly, the words began to pull me into their world, and for a while, I lost myself in the story, letting it quiet my restless mind.

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The two days passed in a blur. I spend most of the time in my room, surrounded by a whirlwind of preparations—maids fitting my gown, stylists working on my hair. Once they finally finish, I barely have an hour to myself before attendants arrive to escort me. There was no time to breathe, no moment to collect my thoughts as I was swept into the inevitable.

The grand cathedral is a masterpiece of gold and white, adorned with shimmering tapestries and lush arrangements of fresh roses. The scent is overwhelming, cloying even, as it fills the air, mingling with the faint murmur of noble guests seated in the pews. My mother sat in the front row, her back straight and her expression serene, her hands resting in her lap. My father walks beside me, his arm steady under mine, yet his grip feels heavier than usual.

I glance at him briefly. His stern face is softer today. "You look beautiful," he whispers, his voice low but firm. I nod, unable to reply, my throat tightening as we near the altar.

The duke stood there, resplendent in his ceremonial attire, his blue cape draped regally over one shoulder. He is every bit the Duke of Wintermere—composed and stoic. His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unwavering as I step closer. I can't tell what he's thinking. His gesture before doesn't match with his expression at all.

The priest began the ceremony, his deep, resonant voice echoing through the vast cathedral. "We gather here today, in the sight of the Divine, to witness the union of Lucien Valenhart, Duke of Wintermere, and Adeline Wycliffe from House Wycliffe..."