✶|𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺|✶ 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘐𝘐𝘐 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘯

✶𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 40✶

――✴✯✴――

The Royal Wedding

――✴✯✴――

✯Serena's Pov ✯

Year 133 A.C

Westeros

Red Keep, King's Landing

The day Serena had wished would never come... Had arrived.

The corridors of the Red Keep were alive with hurried steps and hushed orders, a chorus of bustling servants scurrying from one place to another. 

And in the midst of it, Serena stood almost breathless, while her gown was being laced tighter than any sane person might consider reasonable.

"Gods, never thought I'd see you like this so soon." Sylara remarked, leaning casually against the wall, her elegant Dornish gown of deep violet catching the light. Her brown hair was worn loose, save for a single braid tucked behind one ear, a half-playful, half-melancholic look on her face.

"Neither did I..."Serena muttered, tugging slightly at the bodice. "And I swear if they pull this cursed thing any tighter, I'll faint before I make it to the sept."

That earned a quiet laugh from Elyara, who was kneeling to adjust the fall of the skirt, while Lidia worked on the last of the intricate braids that crowned Serena's head, the strands pulled into a graceful twist at the back, adorned with tiny stones of amethyst, a piece of home she could carry in this special day.

Although Serena wasn't particularlyyuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh anxious, she had to admit the dress crafted for her was exquisite. 

The long, flowing sleeves that brushed her arms without quite covering her shoulders, the skirt falling in flawless waves, full without being stiff or overwrought, with some details in gold fabric. The back delicately open just above the corset's laces, and the shoes boasting a graceful, sensible heel.

The door creaked open then, and Lady Kyria entered.

Her mother didn't speak right away, only crossed the room in a few careful steps, her gaze fixed on her youngest daughter. 

Even beneath the elegant purple gown and neatly gathered hair, the toll of grief and distance clung to Kyria's features, her slender frame a little thinner than Serena remembered. 

Yet in her soft brown eyes, there was still warmth  and aching sorrow.

"Hello, mother..." Serena whispered, a small, fragile smile curving her lips.

It took every ounce of control not to crumble into her arms as she had a week earlier, when the Daynes arrived at King's Landing. 

After nearly a year without her, that embrace had felt like surfacing after months beneath dark, suffocating waters.

"You look..." Kyria's voice caught in her throat, but she managed a gentle smile. "You look radiant, my little star."

She reached out, the back of her hand brushing Serena's cheek, a tender, trembling touch as if afraid she might shatter her daughter with too much pressure.