Chapter CLXXX: A Royal Wedding
The wedding of Prince Zayr and Princess Alina was an opulent affair, a spectacle of grandeur and tradition that lasted several days and was celebrated throughout the kingdom. It was the first royal wedding since the Dragon King married the Red Queen, and the court spared no expense to ensure its magnificence. Nobles and dignitaries from all corners of the realm gathered at the palace, their silks and jewels creating a kaleidoscope of wealth and power in the grand halls.
All the royal children attended to honor Zayr’s union—except for Ikkar. His absence stirred whispers among the guests, the controversy simmering just beneath the surface of the joyous occasion.
Princess Alina was radiant, her beauty matched only by her grace. She and Zayr presented a striking pair, the epitome of royal perfection as they exchanged vows in a ceremony steeped in tradition. During the lavish wedding feast that followed, Zayr gifted Alina a stunning yellow diamond necklace, the gemstone glowing like the first light of dawn. As he placed it around her neck, he remarked that its hue mirrored one of the shades of her eyes, drawing admiring gasps from the court.
Later, in a rare moment of privacy amidst the endless festivities, Alina spoke to Zayr candidly. Her voice was steady but softened by sincerity.
“I know the circumstances of our wedding are... complex,” she began, her fingers lightly brushing the necklace. “And I know that the whole story about the crown prince leaving because you were suddenly in love with me is bullshit.”
Zayr arched a brow, a trace of wry amusement in his expression. “Yet you chose not to tell your father about this.”
Alina smiled faintly. “My father believes I’m young and naive, that I lack the foresight to make such decisions. But I know what’s best for me. Prince Ikkar would not have married me—not willingly. I knew it was a lost battle the moment he admitted he loved another.”
Zayr smirked, his tone tinged with sarcasm. “So you chose the second best you could get.”
Alina’s gaze didn’t waver. “Perhaps I won’t ever be queen, and I can live with that. But I want this union to be solid—for both of us. I chose you because, yes, you may be the second in line for the throne for now and it was worth the shot, but you seem to be a good man. Please, Zayr... Don’t prove me wrong.”
For a moment, Zayr was silent, her words settling heavily in the space between them. Then he reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips in a gesture both formal and tender.
“I am yours, Princess Alina,” he said simply, his voice low but resolute.
***
During the festivities, Rya felt a strange warmth, a presence she hadn’t felt in months. A tingle ran through her as she instinctively looked out the window. Her heart leaped—there, standing majestically in the courtyard, was Emberlace. After nearly six months apart, seeing her dragon again brought a smile to Rya’s face. But as her gaze shifted, her excitement doubled.
Ikkar.
He stood near Emberlace, tall and proud, his presence unmistakable. Ikkar had not set foot in the palace for six long months, and his sudden return was nothing short of a shock. Without hesitation, Rya bolted from the room and ran down to the courtyard.
Her brothers and sisters were not far behind. Mahir and Kira dashed to Ikkar with wide grins, throwing their arms around him. Even Zayr, who seldom showed much emotion, embraced him warmly. Their mother, Isabella, followed soon after, pulling him into a tender hug, her relief evident in the way she clung to him.
Their father, however, was far more restrained. The Dragon King extended a hand, shaking Ikkar’s with a firm grip but offering no affection, his stern gaze unwavering.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” Zayr said, his tone earnest.
“I couldn’t miss my brother’s wedding,” Ikkar replied with a small smile. He reached into a bag slung over his shoulder and produced a tiara encrusted with brilliant blue gemstones. “Acheronian sapphires. A gift for the bride.”
Zayr’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Acheron... that’s far.”
Acheron was an isolated island at the northernmost edge of the Dragon King’s domain, a remote and rugged place far removed from the capital’s splendor. It was where Ikkar had taken refuge, living in quiet defiance of their father’s will.
Rya, still caressing Emberlace, chimed in with a wide grin. “It’s not my wedding, but I think I got the best gift of all.”
Ikkar chuckled softly. “I figured you missed her. She’s been trying to kill me for months now... and nearly succeeded a few times.”
Rya laughed, pressing her forehead to Emberlace’s. “You deserved it,” she teased.
Despite the lighthearted reunion, Ikkar’s gaze drifted to their father, who watched the scene silently, his face a mask of disapproval.
“I’d like to talk,” Ikkar said, his tone measured but firm.
The room quieted slightly, all eyes turning to the Dragon King. Alaric’s jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly.
“Very well,” he said, his voice low.
The royal office felt heavy with unspoken tension as Alaric and Isabella sat across from their eldest son. The festivities of Zayr’s wedding continued in the grand halls, the laughter and music faintly audible through the stone walls.
Ikkar, standing tall yet visibly wary, broke the silence first. "I wanted to say..." He hesitated, glancing between his parents. "I’m sorry. For how things turned out. I have... some regrets about the way I handled things."
Isabella offered him a soft, reassuring smile. "I’m just happy you’ve come back, my son," she said, her voice warm and full of relief.
Ikkar nodded. "I’ve been living in Acheron. I’ve traveled a lot, moved from one place to another... but Acheron has been my home these past couple months."
Alaric, who had been sitting stiffly, let out a deep sigh. His expression softened slightly as he leaned forward. "I’m glad you came back," he said, his tone gruff but genuine. "It was a good decision."
Ikkar’s gaze faltered briefly before he took a deep breath, steeling himself. "This isn’t my home," he said firmly. "My home is with Talia. And I’m still seeking your permission to marry her."
The room fell deathly silent.
Alaric’s face darkened, his jaw tightening as his hands clenched into fists. Isabella, sensing the storm brewing, placed a calming hand on his arm.
"You dare bring this up now?" Alaric said, his voice low but seething with anger. "This is your brother’s wedding. A wedding to the princess you were supposed to marry! You abandoned your duty, your position, your family… All for a nameless servant!"
"She’s not nameless," Ikkar’s eyes burned with defiance as he met his father’s glare. "Her name is Talia," he said, his voice steady and unyielding. "And she’s expecting my child."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
