The Target of His Heart (An Assassin's Creed Fanfic)

Ch. 27: The Wedding

The Next Morning...

July 13, 1191

I slowly peeked out from the side of the archway to observe the surroundings, my forest green eyes trailing over every face and picking out the ones I knew. I took note to the all of the people that were able to arrive for our outdoor wedding, which was conveniently located in the center of Jerusalem. People, both civilian and relatives – some whom I had never met until this very day – were gathering around and taking their respective seats. Those who were unable to retrieve a seat – civilians most likely – simply stood nearby, waiting patiently for the ceremony to begin. The decorations that scatter the outdoor wedding elegantly gave a forest-like feel to it, almost as if we were in a meadow while buildings towered over it. Chatter had risen between people as they conversed between one another, still waiting expectantly for everything to begin. Abel, clad in a black noble attire and his dark hair pushed back elegantly, stood up at the “altar” next to a priest. He was also waiting patiently for the event to begin, but with not the excitement or anticipation that I had once seen. Oddly, my fiancé’s head was lowered toward the ground, as if he were pondering something and his mind was elsewhere at the moment. Unfortunately, due to the distance between he and I, I could not tell if it was true or not. However, now was not the time to worrying about him.

Pushing my veil out of my face, I continued to look around, getting a good look at everything. Fortunately, the maid was able to fix my hair, making sure it would not fall into my face at any point in time. She decided to pull it back into a low ponytail with a small bouquet of white roses before moving it past my right shoulder. I silently thanked her for doing so, making a mental note in mind to do so when I saw her next time. Of course, I had to put on my dress once again just like the other day despite the circumstances. Instead of complaining about the pathetic soon-to-be husband, I decided to save my breath. Complaining about how cruel a man Abel was all of the time did not change anything at all nor would it change in the near future. It was only going to make things worse on my part. Fortunately, though, the only sliver of hope that I looked forward to had to be Malik. He had promised ho had promised to bring Altaïr to Jerusalem as fast as he could. That was just two days ago, and yet I could still feel that dab of hope fill my mind, enough to keep me sane for a little while longer. Still, I did feel a little worried for his safety.

Sighing with a bit of defeat, I slowly turned away from it all and looked at the bouquet of white colored roses in my hand, silently praying for things to turn out for the best. Things...things are going to turn out fine, Cynthia, I told myself, gripping the bouquet tightly in my hands. I just need to have faith, just like Amal said. Having faith is important, and it will lead me to great things in life.

“Cynthia…” Blinking, I slowly glanced over at my father, who had approached me after standing nearby for a good few minutes. He was supposed to walk me down the aisle, but his expression still held guilt. Not wanting to upset myself even further than I already was, I chose to look back at the people that were in their seats. He took that as a sign that I was still upset with him and sighed. “Cynthia, I am...truly sorry that you don’t want to go through this. But it is for the good of the Kingdom.”

“I have told you time and time again,” I spoke in a low tone, refusing to look at him. “Abel is not good for this Kingdom. He will ruin it all for his own selfish desires, and yet you refused to listen to me at all.”

He sighed with what sounded like shame before continuing, “Please, have it in your heart to forgive me, your foolish father.” He paused. “As much as I want to believe you, I cannot see the man you have spoken of.”

“Then you should have come to see me, then I could show you the truth,” I replied just as the music as music began playing.

My bridesmaids, which consisted of the maids – my own hand maid included – that had been around to serve my family for years, slowly began walking down the makeshift aisle created for the special occasion. Diana, who was dubbed the maid of honor and ring bearer by Abel himself, was at the front of the line. She was leading the other women of the group, but even at a distance I could tell that her smile was completely fake. Almost as if her mind was on other things at the moment. Sighing, I slowly moved into place, gripping my white roses tightly in my hand, while my father followed suit behind me.