The bells of Cortinvar tolled softly through the frost-bitten wind, echoing across the snow-covered mountains and down into the valley of glassy white.
The entire kingdom shimmered like crystal under the pale morning sun, the snowflakes falling like blessings from the heavens.
Claude stood at the altar, dressed in ceremonial Cortinvarian wedding attire. Cortinvar wedding attire was layered and regal, woven from white furs and shimmering fabric that caught the light like falling frost.
His cloak was embroidered with silver thread in the shape of snow lilies—sacred flowers in Cortinvar that only bloomed under moonlight once a year.
Around his shoulders, a mantle of pale wolf fur hung heavy, symbolizing strength and guardianship.
His breath misted in the cold air, but he barely felt it. His gaze was locked on the great double doors at the far end of the ice chapel.
Then, the doors opened.
Emmalise stepped into view, and a collective gasp swept through the gathered crowd.
