𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺 - 𝑹.𝑵𝑰𝑲𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑰

chapter 40

FOURTY

The altar lights dimmed into a gentle hush — golden filaments extinguished one by one, until only the soft glow of the moon remained, bathing the venue in silver. A single path illuminated underfoot, the aisle now glimmering like a thread of stardust guiding you toward him.

And then —
the music began.

Salvatore by Lana Del Rey drifted through the stillness, her haunting, sultry voice filling the air like a prayer whispered to the stars. The melody curled around the trees and wrapped around each soul in the crowd like silk. There was something almost unreal about it — surreal, celestial, sacred.

The world held its breath.

And then... you appeared.

The bouquet in your hands trembled only slightly as you stepped into the light, your eyes fixed ahead. Each delicate step you took was a stroke of divine artistry. Your gown, a masterpiece of moonlight and thread, shimmered with thousands of tiny beads that caught the light like dewdrops at dawn. The train behind you glided over the aisle like a river of dreams, trailing rose petals and whispers in its wake.

Your wings —
soft, ethereal, kissed by silver —
grazed the carpeted path as you walked. They shifted gently with each motion, as if echoing the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Behind you, the flower girls giggled softly, children you once held hands with, now scattering petals in step with the music. They wore tiny versions of your dress — elegant, sweet, perfect in their innocence — and the way they glanced at you with awe only deepened the beauty of the moment.

Then, as if summoned by fate, the sky offered its blessing.

A flurry of white doves descended in perfect synchrony — birds Nikolai had, by some miracle or madness, trained to flutter in time with the music. They circled high above before cascading downward in a slow spiral, their feathers falling like snow, soft and pure.

Each feather twirled through the air like a blessing. A symbol. A promise.

And there you were, framed in moonlight and silk, beneath the falling feathers and music — crowned in a tiara that glistened like starlight caught in crystal. It crowned your head like something ancient and royal, like a secret known only to the heavens. You weren't just a bride. You were something divine.

Nikolai stood at the altar, entirely breathless.

He'd faced execution. Torture. Fyodor.
He'd laughed in the face of death, war, and countless absurdities.

But nothing... nothing had ever undone him like this.

He blinked rapidly, jaw tightening. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind, all of them clashing and desperate, screaming about how he didn't deserve this — didn't deserve you. But he pushed them back. All of them. Because tonight, for the first time, he wanted to be the man you saw in him.

He wanted to stand still.

To be worthy.

His fingers twitched at his sides, but they didn't shake. He didn't reach for a joke. Or a trapdoor. Or a trick.

Instead, his eyes — wide and glassy, bright with awe — never left you for a second. A rare silence held him in place, reverent. Captivated. Absolutely, unapologetically yours.

Even Fyodor, from the sidelines, glanced sideways at Nikolai with a hint of disbelief — because this, this quiet man trembling in the moonlight, was not the mad jester they knew.