Chapter 178: The Wedding I Deserved

Two weeks had passed. It was remarkable how much life could change in merely fourteen days.

The Waevalon Kingdom no longer whispered about attempted assassinations. No one spoke of trade negotiations or House of Valmere's downfall in hushed voices behind fans and champagne glasses.

The trials had begun shortly after Marcelo and Seraphine's arrest. Their crimes against the Crown, the Caelthorn Trade House, and the Waevalon Kingdom had become impossible to deny once the royal military finished presenting the evidence Lucretius and Enoch had painstakingly gathered. The confessions, financial records, testimonies, and correspondence spoke louder than any defense ever could.

Justice had finally begun doing what grief never could. It allowed people to breathe again.

As for me, I had stopped counting how many mornings I had awakened without reliving the past first. There were no more dreams of betrayal. No more wondering whether footsteps outside my bedroom belonged to an assassin. No more waking in cold sweats reaching for a husband who had already been beside me all along.

Instead, my mornings now began with the scent of chrysanthemums resting upon the bedside table.

Every single day.

Without fail.

Lucretius somehow managed to leave a fresh bouquet before leaving for his morning duties as Alpha. Sometimes white. Sometimes yellow. Sometimes lavender. Occasionally, he mixed every color together because, according to him, choosing only one reminded him too much of choosing favorites.

He insisted he loved them all equally.

I had laughed for nearly ten minutes after hearing that explanation. It sounded exactly like something my beloved husband would say.

A soft smile found my lips as I adjusted the ribbon tied around another bouquet resting upon the windowsill. The flowers had barely settled into the vase when another familiar knock echoed gently against our bedchamber door.

Three knocks.

Then two more.

I laughed before answering. "You may come in, Romina." The door swung open almost immediately. "I knew you'd recognize my knocking!"

Romina entered carrying what looked suspiciously like enough fabric to clothe an entire battalion. Several seamstresses followed behind her, each balancing carefully folded bundles of lace, silk, ribbons, and embroidered veils.

Then, came appear Rosemarie with a big smile on her face.

I blinked. "Should I be worried?" I asked as soon as I saw her with Romina.

"No." Romina smiled far too sweetly.

"Terrified." Rosemarie nodded.

Before I had the chance to respond, Romina clapped her hands together. "Everyone!"

The seamstresses, Even Rosemarie, immediately surrounded me.

I stared and looked toward the door. Then back at Romina. "Romina..."

"Hm?"

"I suddenly understand why Lorenzo always looks exhausted."

She gasped dramatically. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

I chuckled from her reaction.  Some things truly never changed.

Two weeks had passed. Justice had finally been served. Peace had quietly returned to the Golden Eclipse Pack. And somehow... the greatest threat to my sanity had become the cheerful woman currently insisting that I stand perfectly still while five seamstresses argued over the placement of pearls upon my wedding gown.

"If one more person measures my waist," I muttered beneath my breath, "...I'm going to start charging them."

Rosemarie looked scandalized. "Oh no, Your Grace." She smiled kindly. "We've only just begun."

I closed my eyes. Slowly. Then, sighed toward the heavens. "Hubby..."

Romina burst into laughter. "Don't even think about calling Lucretius for rescue." She folded both arms triumphantly. "Today..." Her grin widened. "...he belongs to my Lorenzo."

I opened one eye. "What...?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "They've locked him inside the west drawing room. So, he can't sneak over here."

That... sounded suspiciously specific.

I tilted my head. "Why would my husband need to be locked inside a room?"

Romina blinked and looked genuinely confused that I even had to ask. "Because," she answered as though explaining something painfully obvious, "he has already attempted to see your wedding gown three times."

I stared at her in disbelief.  She stared back.

"Three?" I parroted.

She nodded solemnly and began counting them on her fingers. "The first time, Lorenzo caught him outside the fitting room. The second time, Leonard distracted him. The third..." Her lips twitched. "...he bribed one of the maids."

My eyes widened. "He did what?"

Romina sighed dramatically. "Your husband has absolutely no shame."

I covered my mouth and failed spectacularly to suppress my laughter.

Oh, dear Mother Moon Goddess, only Lucretius would attempt military-level reconnaissance against his own wedding preparations.

Later that evening, after dinner with Lorenzo, Romina, Rosemarie, and the others had finally come to an end, I escaped to our chamber feeling pleasantly exhausted.

The hot bath eased the lingering ache in my shoulders, washing away the day's endless fittings, greetings, and relentless teasing from Romina, who had apparently appointed herself the supreme commander of tomorrow's wedding preparations.

By the time I finished drying my hair, the room had already fallen quiet. Only the balcony doors remained slightly open.

A cool evening breeze wandered inside, carrying with it the familiar scent of chrysanthemums blooming somewhere within the castle gardens.

I followed it almost absentmindedly. Barefoot, I stepped onto the balcony. Then, I stopped as the sight before me looked so painfully familiar that for a heartbeat, I wondered whether time itself had decided to repeat an old memory.

Lucretius sat upon the daybed exactly as he always seemed to whenever military matters followed him home, half-dressed. His dark pajama trousers rested low upon his hips while the upper half of his body remained uncovered, the moonlight tracing every scar earned throughout decades of battle.

Several military reports lay scattered across the small table before him. One rested in his hands while another had already been marked with neat annotations in the unmistakably precise handwriting I had come to recognize over the years.

He hadn't noticed me yet. Or perhaps... he had and simply chose not to interrupt my observation.

A smile slowly found my lips.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, we would stand before everyone once again. Our second wedding.

No... I corrected myself with quiet amusement.

Technically... our fourth.

The thought almost made me laugh. Somehow, across lifetimes, my husband still insisted on marrying me over and over again. I honestly didn't know whether I should feel flattered or concerned.

He turned another page, completely absorbed. How many nights had I found him exactly like this?

Even before our marriage. Even back when I served as his assistant in another lifetime.

Some habits, it seemed, refused to change no matter how many centuries passed.

My chest warmed unexpectedly. Perhaps, I wouldn't have wanted them to. Without making a sound, I slowly walked toward him.

The wooden floorboards barely creaked beneath my feet. Only when I stood beside the daybed did he finally speak, my hands on my back, leaning a little.

"I've been waiting, wifey."

I blinked. "You knew I was here?"

His eyes remained on the report. "I smelled you the moment you stepped onto the balcony."

A laugh escaped me. "Show-off."  I playfully rolled my eyes, forgetting that I should never underestimate him.

"One has to maintain appearances."

That made me laugh harder. He really hadn't changed. Not even a little. Still carrying military reports the night before his wedding and pretending that the paperwork deserved more attention than his wife.

Though judging from the way his eyes hadn't moved from the same paragraph in several minutes, I suspected he hadn't actually read a single word.

I quietly reached toward the report and lowered it. His gaze finally lifted to mine. Then, I smiled. "You haven't turned the page for five minutes, hubby."

His eyes shifted briefly toward the report. "Have I not?"

"No."

"I see."

The corners of my lips lifted. "So..." I leaned forward just enough for our foreheads to almost touch. "General."

His brows rose. "Hm?"

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

A slow smile spread across Lucretius' face. It was not the restrained, composed smile of the Alpha General or the dangerous one he wore before battle.

This one belonged only to me.

Without taking his eyes off mine, he quietly folded the report shut before setting it atop the growing pile of documents on the small table beside the daybed. "Those can wait," he murmured. His attention returned to me completely. Then, before I could tease him further, his hands found my waist.

A chuckle escaped from my lips. "Hubby—"

The world tilted gently. In one smooth movement, Lucretius drew me toward him until I landed against the softness of the daybed, his broad frame settling comfortably beneath mine.

A surprised squeak escaped my lips before it dissolved into laughter. "You ambushed me." I playfully hit him on his chest.

He drew out a toothy grin. "I learned from the best," he said and wriggled his eyebrows.

I narrowed my eyes playfully. "I don't remember teaching you that."

"You didn't." His arms circled my waist, holding me securely against him. "I simply observed."

I shook my head, trying very hard to look offended despite the smile refusing to leave my face. "You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

The moonlight spilled across his handsome face, softening the sharpness of his features. Lying there beneath me, he looked so relaxed that it became difficult to imagine this was the same man who commanded armies with a single glance.

I rested one hand lightly against his chest. "So?" I prompted again. "You never answered me, hubby."

His brows lifted. "About what, wifey?"

"Are you nervous?" He regarded me quietly for a moment before an amused smile slowly curved his lips. "I am."

I blinked, looking dumbfounded. "Really?"

He nodded with perfect seriousness. "I'm terribly concerned."

My curiosity immediately won. "About what?"

His expression remained solemn for all of a moment. "I'm afraid my wife might change her mind tomorrow."

I stared at him. "What...?"

He gave a long, exaggerated sigh. "You've already married me thrice." His fingers traced idle circles against my waist. "Who's to say you'll still wish to do it a fourth time?"

I gasped dramatically. "Hubby!"

He looked entirely innocent. "What?"

"How did you discover my plan?"

His brows knitted together in mock alarm. "So there was a plan."

"Oh, no." I immediately covered my mouth. "I've said too much."

"I knew it." He sighed once more, though laughter danced openly in his freckled hazel eyes. "I should've guarded you more carefully."

"You should have." I nodded with exaggerated gravity. "I've been plotting my escape for weeks."

"I suspected as much."

"I was going to flee before sunrise."

"A tragedy."

"I even packed a bag."

His eyes widened theatrically. "You packed a bag?"

I nodded once. "It contained absolutely nothing."

That finally broke whatever composure he had left. A warm laugh rumbled from his chest, the sound rich and unrestrained as it echoed softly across the quiet balcony.

Unable to help myself, I laughed with him. I loved hearing him laugh like this. Not because it happened often. But because every time it did, it reminded me that somewhere beneath the revered Alpha, the feared General, and the man burdened with countless responsibilities... there was still simply Lucretius.

My Lucretius.

My Lucretius Xior Franciosa.

The laughter gradually faded into a comfortable silence. He looked up at me, the smile lingering at the corners of his lips. Then, with a tenderness that made my heart ache, he brushed a loose strand of damp hair behind my ear. "I still wouldn't take the risk." His voice softened. "If there were even the smallest chance you'd run..." His thumb caressed my cheek. "...I'd spend the entire night making sure you stayed exactly where you belong."

I smiled, my chest warming at the quiet certainty in his words. "And where is that?"

His answer came without the slightest hesitation. "With me."

The corners of my lips twitched. I pressed them together, determined not to smile and to look at least somewhat unconvinced by the ridiculous confidence with which my husband declared that I belonged beside him.

It lasted all of three seconds as the smile escaped anyway.

A laugh followed soon after, and I shook my head as I brushed several loose strands of his hair away from his forehead. "You're impossible." He was always impossible.

"So I've been told."

"I've told you that."

"You have."

"Repeatedly."

"I remember every single time."

The warmth in his voice only deepened my smile. There was no embarrassment in his admission, nor any attempt to defend himself. If anything, he sounded rather pleased that I had noticed his unwavering devotion.

I leaned down until our foreheads rested lightly together, breathing in the familiar scent that belonged only to him. It still amazed me how something as simple as his presence could quiet every restless thought inside my mind.

"You don't have to worry so much anymore, hubby."

His gaze remained fixed upon mine. "I know, wifey."

"No." I smiled softly, my fingertips lazily tracing the line of his jaw. "I don't think you do."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The night breeze wandered lazily across the balcony, stirring the curtains behind us while somewhere in the gardens below, the scent of blooming chrysanthemums drifted upward.

"I'll always be with you."

His expression softened. "I know."

"I mean it."

I gently cupped his cheek, feeling him instinctively lean into my touch. "No matter where life takes us." My thumb brushed across the freckles scattered beneath his eye. "No matter how many lifetimes we have to cross." The affection lingering inside those hazel eyes became almost unbearably tender. "And..." A playful smile slowly found my lips. "...even if I happened to disappear into the celestial realm."

His brows lifted slightly. "The celestial realm?"

I nodded, trying and failing to suppress the mischief threatening to reveal itself across my face. "Perhaps."

Before he could ask what I meant, I quietly snapped my fingers. The world folded. There was no violent surge of magic. No blinding flash. It happened as naturally as taking another breath.

The moonlit balcony dissolved into countless fragments of silver light that drifted around us like scattered stardust before melting quietly into the air. The cool breeze vanished. The familiar scent of chrysanthemums disappeared with it.

Then came another fragrance.

Lavender.

Sweet.

Fresh.

Infinitely familiar.

The daybed beneath us softened until it no longer felt like polished wood cushioned with silk but something altogether gentler. A sea of lavender blossoms welcomed us instead, their delicate petals bending beneath our weight without breaking as though even nature itself recognized those who had returned home.

Silver light stretched endlessly across the horizon.

Above us, the sky shimmered with constellations untouched by mortal time, each star glowing with a quiet serenity that belonged only to this place.

The celestial realm.

For several long moments, Lucretius remained perfectly still. His eyes wandered slowly across the endless fields surrounding us before lifting toward the radiant heavens overhead.

Then, they returned to me.

He chuckled, not one born of surprise. But of unmistakable pride. "So..." His smile broadened. "...you've truly mastered it."

Satisfaction bloomed inside my chest before I could hide it. I had spent countless evenings practicing under Mother's guidance, opening portals no larger than my own hand before gradually learning to stabilize them long enough for two people to pass safely through.

Apparently, the effort had finally paid off. "I told you I was practicing."

"You did." His eyes lingered upon me with an affection that made my heart feel wonderfully full. "And I underestimated just how quickly you would improve."

Before I could bask in the compliment for very long, his hands settled comfortably around my waist. I arched a questioning brow. "What?"

Instead of answering, he rolled us over with practiced ease until I found myself laughing beneath him, lavender petals scattering into the air around us. "You've become rather capable, haven't you?"

"I have."

"I think..." His smile turned suspiciously playful. "...that deserves a reward."

Before I could ask what sort of reward he had in mind, his fingers found my sides. A startled laugh burst from my lips. "Lucretius!"

He only laughed harder, the sound rich and utterly unrestrained as he continued mercilessly tickling me.

(My, my.)

The familiar divine feminine voice drifted gently across the endless lavender fields before either of us had the chance to recover from our laughter.

(It would seem...)

The laughter lingering inside my chest slowly quieted.

(...that my realm has become quite the romantic retreat.)

Both Lucretius and I instinctively turned toward the voice.

Standing amidst the sea of lavender was Mother. Even after everything, the sight of Her never failed to steal my breath away.

Her silver hair cascaded like liquid moonlight, dancing softly beneath the celestial breeze as robes woven from the very essence of the night shimmered around her. Countless stars seemed to bloom and fade across the fabric with every graceful movement She made, as if the heavens themselves had chosen to adorn their Queen.

Yet, as always, Her face remained veiled beneath a radiance too divine for mortal eyes to behold.

It wasn't cloth nor mist. It was light. Pure, blinding celestial light that concealed Her features from all who lacked the right to witness them.

Only Her children... Only those born of Her divinity... could gaze beyond that sacred veil.

And to me... She was breathtakingly beautiful. I remembered meeting Her in my dreams.

Her silver-blue eyes curved with unmistakable amusement, and the smile resting upon Her lips carried the same warmth that had comforted me since the beginning of creation itself.

Then, my attention shifted. Beside her stood another familiar figure.

It was Father.

His golden robes stirred gently in the breeze as he stood comfortably beside his mate, one hand resting behind his back while the other cradled a porcelain teacup as though this entire scene had become the evening's entertainment.

There wasn't the slightest trace of surprise upon his face. Only quiet amusement.

"I told you, my moon," he said, taking an unhurried sip of his tea before smiling toward Mother. "They would eventually discover that transporting themselves here is considerably faster than waiting for us to summon them."

Mother let out the softest laugh. (It would appear you were correct, my sun.) Her luminous gaze drifted meaningfully toward the patch of lavender beneath Lucretius and me. One elegant brow rose. (I do hope,) she said with a smile that looked far too entertained for my remaining dignity, (the flowers survive the two of you.)

Father chuckled into his teacup. "They've only just recovered from the last time Aurelian visited."

Heat rushed straight to my cheeks. "Father..."

Lucretius, remarkably, had the decency to look mildly embarrassed.

I looked between the two of them, my vision suddenly blurring as warmth swelled inside my chest.

For a moment, I could only stare. Mother standing before me once again and Father was no longer separated from Her by lifetimes of longing. The two people whose love had shaped mine and sacrifices had made this moment possible.

My throat tightened. The words caught there before finally escaping in little more than a whisper. "Mother..." My gaze shifted toward the man standing faithfully beside Her. "Father..."