Chapter Text
White petals floated down from the towering dome of the church, covering the aisle around the altar with a soft, living carpet. Tall columns, adorned with golden patterns, stretched upwards as if holding up the heavens. The air was filled with the delicate scent of fresh roses, mingling with a faint trace of incense.
The guests gathered in the hall whispered among themselves. Noble ladies in lavish gowns, lords in embroidered coats, the royal family—all eyes were fixed on where the groom stood.
Prince Geordo Stuart.
Calm, regal, the very image of perfection. In his immaculate white wedding coat, decorated with royal insignia, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairy tale.
But at that moment, his mind was far from affairs of state or the future of the kingdom. He was thinking only of his beloved. And when the orchestra in the back of the hall began to play the wedding march, announcing the arrival of the bride, his heart skipped a beat.
Arm in arm with her father, leaning lightly on his elbow, Katarina Claes stepped into the hall.
Her wedding dress, embroidered with delicate golden threads, shimmered softly in the candlelight. Fine lace traced her wrists, and a light veil cascaded over her shoulders, nearly brushing the floor. It felt as though time itself had slowed down as she walked down the red carpet sprinkled with petals.
For everyone watching, this was a moment of pure beauty, brimming with meaning. But for Katarina… things were a little different.
Wow, what an incredible banquet!
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the long tables lining the hall, overflowing with delicacies—cakes, pastries, roasted meats, exquisite appetisers. She was almost certain she saw an entire tower of cream puffs glazed with caramel...
Gotta remember where that is. What if it’s all gone by the time I get there?
“My dear, you’re squeezing my arm so tightly I fear it’ll go numb before we reach the altar,” her father murmured with a gentle smile.
Katarina blinked sharply, snapping out of her thoughts.
“Huh? Oh! Right, of course!”
She tore her gaze away from the food, forcing herself to focus on what was happening right in front of her. Like, for example, the man standing at the altar.
Oh…
Their eyes met. And for a moment, everything else disappeared. Geordo was looking at her as if she wasn’t just his bride by obligation, but the very meaning of his existence. As if no one else in the hall mattered. There was no nervousness, no hesitation in his gaze. Only warm, genuine happiness.
Why is he looking at me like that…?
Something pricked in her chest. A strange sensation, one she had never felt before. Heat crept up her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, trying not to think about how her breathing had suddenly become a little harder. She took a few more steps forward. And then, her father gently placed her hand into Geordo’s and quietly stepped back to take his seat among the guests.
Geordo leaned in slightly, his fingers softly pressing against hers, his thumb lightly stroking her knuckles.
“You look beautiful, Katarina.” His voice was quiet, yet filled with sincere admiration.
She had no idea how to respond to that.
“U-uh… Thank you,” she mumbled, feeling her cheeks burn even hotter.
The orchestra swelled. The priest entered the hall, and the wedding ceremony officially began. As the priest started reciting the opening words, a realization struck Katarina like a bolt of lightning.
This wedding was real.
This wasn’t a joke, not a dream, not some elaborate scheme cooked up by her friends. This was really happening.
Oh… am I even ready for this…?
But it was too late for doubts now—the ceremony had begun. Her heart pounded against her ribs. The world around her blurred, the priest’s voice sounding muffled, as if coming from underwater. She had never felt so… disoriented.
Maybe it was the weight of the lavish gown, which for some reason felt suffocating. Or the hundreds of eyes watching her every move. Or maybe it was…
Geordo...
He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He stood in front of her, tall, flawless, a gentle smile on his lips—so calm and composed, as if this day had been the most natural, most long-awaited event of his life.
How can he be so unfazed in a moment like this?
Unlike him, Katarina felt her palms growing clammy. The heavy formality of the ceremony pressed down on her. The stares of the crowd made her uncomfortable. And Geordo’s gaze… especially his gaze.
Alright, I get that this is an important day, but does he really have to look at me like that?
A solemn silence settled over the hall. The priest turned to Geordo.
“Your Highness, are you ready to recite your vows?”
Katarina unconsciously held her breath. With all the preparations, she had completely forgotten about the vows.
Geordo inclined his head slightly, his fingers tightening just a fraction around hers—a barely perceptible movement, but she felt the warmth seep through her gloves.
“I am.”
He met her gaze and spoke.
“Katarina…” His voice was steady and soft, but there was a depth in it that one could drown in. “Since childhood, you have always been someone special to me.”
She blinked rapidly. She had not been expecting him to say anything like this.
“You changed my life. With your honesty, your kindness, your unpredictability…” He chuckled softly, no doubt recalling all the absurd things she had done over the years. “You’ve always followed your heart, even when it was illogical. Even when it went against all the behavioural protocols.”
A quiet ripple of laughter swept through the hall. Those who knew her well instantly recalled countless moments when Katarina had behaved in ways utterly unbefitting of a noble lady. Her face flushed even redder.
“And that’s exactly why I fell in love with you.”
What?
She froze in shock. Of course, this was a wedding, but she had always believed he was only marrying her because of the scar. There was no reason for him to say anything about love. But Geordo, seemingly unaware of her stunned expression, continued.
“Today, I make a vow that I have already made in my heart long ago. I promise to love and protect you, no matter what happens. I will stand by your side, even if the entire world turns against us. I swear to share your joys and sorrows, your triumphs and failures, and to support you in everything you do.”
His voice dropped just a little, as if he wanted only her to hear this next part.
“And, of course, I’ll always be there if you ever feel like escaping to the vegetable plantations again—even if that’s completely unbefitting of a princess.”
She heard stifled giggles from the guests, and Sophia was on the verge of tears from sheer joy. But Katarina… she was speechless.
She had known Geordo cared for her. She had known he was always by her side. But only now, hearing his voice filled with such sincerity, only now, seeing the way he looked at her… did she realize—he meant every word.
Her throat went dry. Her hands felt clammy.
Oh no. Now I have to say something too, don’t I…?
The priest turned to her. “Lady Katarina, your vow?”
Hundreds of eyes bore into her. Her mind was in complete chaos.
Oh no, what am I supposed to say?!
She hadn’t prepared any elaborate words like Geordo did. Just like in her school days, she had left everything to the last minute. But if she stayed silent now, it would look… strange.
Nervously, Katarina licked her lips, trying to find at least something to say.
“U-uh…”
Geordo continued to look at her warmly, filled with quiet affection. He was very curious—what would his bride say?
Say something! Anything!
“I…” Katarina tried to force out a sentence, but her mind was blank. She frantically searched for something poetic, something meaningful, but in the end…
“I… will try my best!”
The hall fell silent.
No one had expected that.
Somewhere in the crowd, Alan choked on a laugh, quickly disguising it as a cough. The priest blinked, unsure how to respond.
Geordo looked at her and then… laughed. Not mockingly, not condescendingly, but softly, with genuine warmth.
Katarina flushed and turned her gaze away, unwilling to meet those distracting, love-filled eyes.
“You’ll try?” he repeated with a gentle smile.
“Well…” She shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Yes! I’ll try to be a good wife!”
“Then I look forward to it,” Geordo said, and his fingers gently tightened around hers.
Katarina exhaled in relief. Okay, that should be enough.
The priest, finally recovering from his momentary confusion, gave a nod.
“Then, from this day forward, you are husband and wife.”
He made a small gesture with his hand.
“You may now seal the union with a kiss.”
…Oh. Wait. WHAT?!
Katarina spun toward Geordo, eyes wide in panic. She had been so relieved after reciting her vows that she had completely forgotten about the kiss.
“A-a kiss?!”
“Well…” He tilted his head slightly, still smiling, but something in his gaze glimmered—something almost dangerous. “It is a wedding, isn’t it?”
She was just about to blurt out something along the lines of “Can we skip this part?!” but never got the chance.
Geordo leaned in. Katarina’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Warm fingers brushed her chin, and before she could fully register what was happening, soft lips met hers. It was barely a touch—a fleeting, weightless kiss. And yet, it cut through her thoughts like a flash of light. Something in her chest tightened painfully. Her breath caught. Her heart pounded so loudly, she was certain Geordo could hear it.
She was so stunned, she forgot to react.
Geordo pulled back, his eyes shining with quiet joy and satisfaction. This was the day he had been waiting for all these years. No matter how many rivals had wanted Katarina’s heart, in the end, he had won. This day marked the final victory in his long battle for his beloved bride. His bride.
“You’re officially my wife now, Katarina,” he said softly.
She blinked at him, completely speechless. That brief kiss… had utterly disarmed her.
The hall erupted into applause. Hundreds of guests rose from their seats, clapping, their expressions filled with admiration for the newlyweds. The clinking of glasses, murmured congratulations, the beaming smiles of friends and family—all of it blended into a grand, celebratory chorus.
But all Katarina could hear was a deafening ringing in her ears.
I just kissed Geordo.
For the first time.
In front of everyone.
No, no, no, stop thinking about it! Focus on something else!
Desperately, she forced her gaze away from Geordo, scanning the room for distractions—yes! There were plenty of them. The vibrant fabrics of noble attire, the glittering jewelry, the guests' delighted expressions…
And of course—the banquet tables. For a brief moment, the sight of food pushed all other thoughts aside. Lavish tables stretched along the enormous hall, overflowing with an endless array of delicacies. Everything Katarina could possibly dream of was here—crusty baguettes coated in herb-infused butter, roasted ducks glazed in honey, succulent steaks seasoned with fragrant spices, fresh vegetables, aromatic soups served in silver bowls. Creamy pastries, multi-layered cakes adorned with chocolate patterns, caramel-dipped apples, and airy meringues so perfect they looked almost unreal. The sheer abundance of it all made her mouth go dry.
So. Much. Food…
As soon as the official ceremony ended, Katarina let out a relieved sigh. Geordo, noticing her reaction, smirked faintly.
“Come, my dear wife.” He spoke with just the slightest hint of amusement as he led her away from the altar, toward the banquet hall.
Katarina quickly nodded, determined not to dwell on the fact that he had just called her “wife.”
Focus on what’s important.
The food.
At the center of the grand hall stood an enormous wedding cake—a towering, seven-tier masterpiece covered in snowy white frosting, decorated with golden swirls and delicate chocolate doves. Katarina nearly jumped in place at the sight of it.
Now this is a wedding!
“Honored guests!” The voice of the master of ceremonies rang out. “Let us congratulate the newlyweds!”
The room burst into applause once more, but Katarina was already focused elsewhere. The moment the first dishes were brought out, her eyes locked onto the trays.
Their first course—a rich, creamy soup with mushrooms and fresh herbs—was placed before them. Katarina grabbed her spoon faster than Geordo could blink.
“Eager to try it, are you?” he teased, watching as she took her first spoonful, eyes shining with delight.
“Mhm!” she mumbled happily between bites.
Now this is what I call a wedding!
Geordo chuckled softly but said nothing. He was simply happy to see her enjoying herself.
“Congratulations, Lady Katarina!” Sophia beamed with joy, her eyes sparkling. Her soft white hair shimmered under the glow of the chandeliers.
“You’re officially a princess now,” Alan added with a smirk. “But judging by your priorities, I’d say all you care about is the food.”
Katarina nodded enthusiastically, stuffing a piece of warm, crusty bread into her mouth.
“And why not? It is a banquet, after all!”
Mary folded her arms, eyeing her friend with mild exasperation. She knew Katarina all too well—too well.
“Do you even realise that you just got married?”
“Of course!” Katarina answered, not really paying attention. She eagerly sliced herself a piece of pie.
Mary let out a small sigh, but Geordo simply smiled at his new wife.
“It’s fine,” he said, watching her fondly. “As long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters to me.”
Mary cast him a wary glance. She still had her doubts about this marriage. After all, Katarina was notoriously naive and too trusting.
“You’re too patient, Your Highness.”
“I’ve had practice.”
Sophia giggled softly. “Honestly, was anyone expecting things to turn out any differently?”
Geordo turned back to Katarina, who was now happily chewing on something sweet. His expression softened.
“Of course not.”
Katarina, meanwhile, was paying no attention to their conversation. Her gaze was locked on the towering wedding cake.
“So?” she asked, eyes gleaming. “Can we cut it now?”
Geordo looked at her, barely holding back a laugh. Her excitement was truly endearing.
“Of course.”
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. The hall fell silent as the newlyweds stood in front of the grand wedding cake. Katarina picked up the knife, but Geordo gently placed his hand over hers.
“We have to cut it together,” he reminded her.
She hadn’t expected that, but tasting this magnificent cake was currently her top priority.
“Ah… okay.”
He leaned in slightly, guiding her hands.
“Just like this…”
The knife glided smoothly through the white frosting, and the first slice was placed onto a plate. The hall erupted into applause.
“And now, as tradition dictates, the groom feeds the bride, and the bride feeds the groom!” the master of ceremonies announced.
Katarina suddenly felt a chill run down her spine.
Oh no.
She had forgotten all about this part of the wedding traditions.
“Uh… so I have to…?”
Geordo had already picked up a fork with a piece of cake, smiling softly.
“Of course.”
She swallowed. The cake looked delicious, but the person holding the fork was the problem.
It’s just a piece of cake… right?
Geordo moved the fork closer to her lips.
“Open up, Katarina.”
Oh no, oh no, oh no…
Her face turned bright red, but under the watchful eyes of the guests, she obediently opened her mouth and took a bite.
Delicious…
But she barely had time to savor the flavor before realizing—now it was her turn. Nervously, she glanced at the cake, then at Geordo.
Why is he smiling so warmly…?
Under the guests' expectant gazes, she hesitantly lifted a piece of cake toward him, cheeks burning. Geordo accepted the bite effortlessly and smiled.
“Delicious.”
She dropped her gaze, feeling her face heat up even more.
“Mhm…”
The hall erupted in applause, and Katarina quickly cut herself a larger piece, eager to bury her embarrassment in layers of soft chocolate cream.
Just don’t think about weird things! Focus on the food!
But even as she lost herself in the feast, feeling like the happiest girl in the world, she couldn’t shake the sensation of warm blue eyes watching her. And Geordo, lazily sipping his wine, kept his gaze on his new wife, as if silently saying, “It’s fine. I can wait.”
The banquet lasted for several hours, but for Katarina, it all passed in a blur—filled with flavors, laughter, and congratulations… and yet, there was something subtly unsettling about it all. When the guests finally began to leave, and the servants started clearing the empty plates, she suddenly realised: her life was about to change forever.
She was no longer just Katarina Claes. She was a princess, the wife of the third prince, a member of the royal family. And from now on, the royal palace would be her home. She felt it deep in her bones as she stood at the gates, staring at the grand carriage adorned with golden ribbons, drawn by four white horses.
“Everything is ready, Your Highness,” one of the royal guards reported to Geordo, opening the door.
Katarina swallowed. Beside her, Geordo stood calm, regal, confident. With practiced grace, he offered her his hand. She hesitated for a moment, then placed her fingers in his, allowing him to help her step up into the carriage.
“It seems it’s time,” he said with a soft smile.
Somewhere behind them, their friends stood watching. Sophia and Maria waved excitedly, while Nicole simply smiled.
“U-uh, right! Of course…”
Katarina climbed inside, and the door shut behind them. The horses set off, and the carriage rolled smoothly down the cobbled road, leaving the Claes estate behind. The warm glow of the windows flickered past, but Katarina was no longer paying attention—her gaze was fixed ahead, where beyond the massive palace gates, the royal castle loomed in the night.
“This is your new home now,” came a quiet voice beside her.
She turned her head. Geordo sat across from her, leaning back casually against the seat, but his gaze never left her. The glow of the lanterns cast soft shadows on his face—far too composed for a man who had just gotten married.
Katarina shifted, feeling the plush cushion beneath her sink slightly under her weight.
“Yeah, I guess…” She tugged at the edge of her glove, trying to process it all. “Though, you know… I think the Claes’ carriage had firmer seats.”
Geordo chuckled at her observation.
“Is that your main concern?”
“Of course not!” she blurted out immediately. “I have way more important questions!”
She turned to face him, clearly ready to launch into a discussion.
“For example, now that I live in the palace, can I order whatever I want from the royal chefs at any time of the day?”
His shoulders trembled slightly from restrained laughter. Typical Katarina—always concerned about food before anything else.
“Already taking full advantage of your status, I see,” Geordo mused, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Well, why not? I’m just confirming if I have unlimited dessert privileges!”
“Naturally,” he replied, watching as her eyes lit up.
“Really?”
“Yes. Any other royal requests, Your Highness?” he added, leaning slightly forward. She instinctively leaned back.
“I… I… uh…” His sudden use of the title flustered her far more than it should have.
Katarina wanted to turn away, but the warmth in his gaze held her captive. She felt her face heat up.
Thankfully, the carriage slowed to a stop, providing her with a much-needed distraction.
“Oh, looks like we’re here!”
The door opened, and before her, the royal palace stood in all its nighttime grandeur. She stepped onto the marble courtyard, tilting her head back to take it all in.
Yes, she had been here before—for balls, for official events—but she had never really stopped to think about just how enormous this place was.
The vast white castle towered above her, as if carved from a single block of marble. Tall columns, gilded in gold, stretched toward the sky, supporting the grand structure. A soft, warm glow poured from countless lanterns and candles in the windows, illuminating the sprawling galleries where guards patrolled in the distance.
She spun around, taking in her new home.
What if there’s a fire? How long would it take to find the nearest exit?
And what if a servant forgets to bring tea to some far-off wing? Would they have to spend half a day searching for them?
Katarina shook her head, trying to push away the bizarre thoughts. But Geordo seemed to interpret her expression differently.
“Something wrong?”
She turned to him.
“No, no! It’s just… a lot to take in. Everything here is so… much. Back home, things felt cozier.”
He paused for a moment before responding.
“In time, you can make this place feel like home too.”
She froze. That… wasn’t what she expected to hear. But before she could say anything, Geordo gently touched her hand.
“Come, I’ll show you your room.”
The palace corridors stretched endlessly, illuminated by rows of lanterns. Gilded paintings, marble columns, delicate carvings on the walls—everything looked as if it had existed for centuries. As they walked, Katarina couldn’t help but glance around.
“Hey, is that statue new?”
“No. It’s over three hundred years old.”
“Really? It looks like it was polished just yesterday!”
“It probably was.”
She huffed. The palace didn’t feel entirely foreign, but it was… too perfect. Like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be, but with no warmth to it.
Finally, Geordo stopped in front of a set of grand doors adorned with silver filigree.
“Here,” he said. “This is your room.”
The royal steward respectfully opened the doors, and Katarina stepped inside. The first thing she noticed was the bed—massive and covered in soft, luxurious fabrics. She ran her hand over the embroidered blanket.
The room was huge. Tall windows draped in sheer curtains, dark wooden furniture, and a fireplace where flames crackled softly. It was warm.
Geordo lingered at the doorway, watching her. Katarina turned to face him.
“That’s it? This is… all?”
He tilted his head slightly.
“What do you mean?”
“Well…” She hesitated. “I don’t know. Everything just… feels too calm?”
She had expected her move to the palace to be more dramatic—something grand, something overwhelming. But instead, everything had happened so… ordinarily.
Geordo smirked and took a step closer.
“Did you want me to do something special?”
“N-no! I just…”
She trailed off as he suddenly reached out, his fingers gently brushing through a strand of her hair. Her breath got caught in her throat. He leaned in slightly, his voice low and soothing, as if lulling her into some strange sense of ease.
“Just get used to it, Katarina. You have plenty of time.”
She swallowed hard, feeling warmth creep up her ears.
He pulled his hand away as if nothing had happened, turning toward the door.
“Good night, my dear wife.”
She watched him go, still feeling the ghost of his touch lingering on her skin. When the door finally shut behind him, she let out a heavy sigh and collapsed onto the bed.
“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh….”
Her face burned. The entire day had been an exhausting mess of unfamiliar emotions, leaving her completely drained.
“What the heck is happening…”
She buried her face into the pillow, unable to make sense of it all. But even as she drifted into sleep, the warmth of a hand on her head never quite faded.