Page 66 of A Storm of Fire and Ice

The Storm Castle gardens had been transformed into a majestic wedding venue for the exchange of our sacred vows. We stood under a trellis draped with white roses, wisteria, jasmine, and camellia. The sweet perfume of delicate flowers mingled intoxicatingly with the earthy scent of pine and cedar of the surrounding trees. Each blossom’s stem was lovingly wrapped in ribbons of shimmering gold and sapphire blue. They lined the aisle in abundance, their pale petals almost glowing under the starry night sky.

Behind the officiant, the pond shimmered and glistened as the light of the stars twinkled in its rippling surface. The serene water mirrored the heavens above, creating an ethereal atmosphere, as if the entire Storm Kingdom weaved their powers together to make this night perfect.

My snow-white wedding dress sparkled with a thousand iridescent hues in the moonlight, its delicate and sheer fabric shimmering like a million tiny diamonds, as if it were a thin sheet of ice. The sleek bodice fitted to the contours of my body, with crystalline patterns decorating the sleeves and gown that mimicked the frost on a window on a cold winter morning.

Perched atop my pale locks, a magnificent tiara shimmered in the moonlight, its bright white diamonds and deep sapphire stones glimmering like starlight. Intricate swirling patterns of snowflakes, thunderbolts, and tiny stars adorned its delicate gold frame, symbolizing the union of ice and storm being joined together in marriage.

Helena and Maisol stood by my side, their bridesmaid dresses reflecting the elegance of the night. Helena’s fiery personality seemed to be momentarily contained by the soft blues and golds that adorned her gown, while Maisol’s nurturing demeanor complemented her flowing dress, its colors reminiscent of a winter’s dawn. Both ladies gently blotted tears of happiness from their eyes.

Opposite them, Fannar and Cid, the captain of the Storm Knights, cut striking figures in their own ceremonial dress uniforms, standing tall and proud beside Brontes. My brother’s presence there, blessing my marriage to the man I adored, was a gift beyond measure. The two most important men in my life side by side.

In the front row, my parents looked on, their usually stoic expressions softened by the pride gleaming in their eyes. It warmed my heart to see that their reserved nature could not entirely mask their joy for me. A few of my former handmaids, as well as Fannar’s closest servants from the Ice Castle, sat behind my parents, who had allowed my favorite handmaid, Adis, to relocate to the Storm Castle and become my personal assistant.

Sadly, Brontes’s parents were absent by necessity, not choice. When it became excruciatingly obvious they wouldn’t change, Brontes made the difficult decision to permanently transfer them from the castle dungeons to the official prison. Despite the pain it caused him, he made that choice for the betterment of his kingdom and the future we would build together. I hoped on this day he would only feel love surrounding him.

Also in the front rows were the Storm Castle’s loyal servants turned dear friends, including Rori, Dagur, Elias, and Nana Osborne. Their smiling faces reminded me that this grand occasion was also intimate, shared with those who had nurtured our love. Brontes and I had given all the castle servants the weekend off to celebrate our wedding as guests, and my parents had graciously loaned some of their Ice Castle staff to assist with hosting the festivities.

Dignitaries from all over the Enchanted Realm honored us by their presence, including Headmaster Moira, the kings and queens of the Air, Water, and Earth Kingdoms, Helena’s sister Princess Aria, Asher, and members of the Fire Council. Their attendance, transcending elemental and territorial boundaries, gave Brontes hope that the peace he had always wished for could someday become a reality.

Behind the faces of our gathered loved ones stood the formidable Storm Castle, resilient in the face of adversity, and fully repaired since Obsidia’s attack. Brontes insisted that it should be even taller and more grandiose than before, adding a touch of ice to its design so it would truly embody the union of ice and storm.

Brilliant glass towers and tall spires glistened in the light as they stretched to the sky. They rose from the imposing black spiked fortress, intertwining with the original Gothic architecture in a graceful waltz, a beautiful dance of opposites. The outlines of various glass walls and crenellations were lit with a soft blue glow. I marveled at how our elements not only complemented each other but strengthened one another as well.

As part of the renovations, the servants’ quarters were relocated into the east wing of the castle, upgraded from what was essentially a rickety barn to proper bedrooms shared by no more than two servants each.

The officiant, a wise magistrate who was now one of Brontes’s most trusted advisors, cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present. He smiled benevolently at us both. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice echoing through the serene garden, “I now present to you, His Majesty King Brontes and Her Majesty Queen Gwyneira of the Storm Kingdom.”

Our friends and family erupted in cheers and applause. As I took in the beloved faces surrounding us, my heart overflowed with joy and profound contentment. This was more than just a wedding. It was a testament to the power of love and unity to bridge vast differences. Here, in this very garden, we had forged bonds transcending bloodlines and kingdoms.

Once more, I glanced up at the celestial sky above. The stars twinkled like diamonds against the inky blackness, mirroring the boundless possibilities that awaited us. A sense of hope and wonder permeated the atmosphere, wrapping us in the comforting embrace of love and harmony.

“Ready for forever, my queen?” Brontes beamed at me, taking my hand.

“More than ready, my king,” I replied with a smile.

We strolled up the aisle arm-in-arm, smiling brightly and our eyes twinkling with joy, while delicate white rose petals fluttered down from above us like a gentle summer shower.

Bound before the gods forever as husband and wife, king and queen, Brontes’s heart was mine, and mine was his, for all our days together under sun, stars, storms, and snowfall.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Helena

Throughouttheentirewedding,Fannar fought to keep a stoic face, though his struggle to contain his emotions was adorable. He fought back tears when he first saw Gwyneira glide down the aisle, her sparkling gown transforming her into an ethereal vision. As the couple exchanged heartfelt vows, gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes, Fannar’s composure nearly shattered.

By the time Brontes kissed his bride, most of us were sobbing. Even Fannar’s eyes glistened, though he valiantly held back the flood.

As we followed the newlyweds toward the Storm Castle for the reception, I sidled closer to Fannar. His face was an expressionless mask, his mind in a distant place.

“You okay, babe?” I asked gently.

Fannar’s icy eyes met mine briefly before skittering away. “Hmmm . . . I’m not sure,” he admitted.

I slipped my arm around his waist comfortingly. “It’s a big day for you both.”

He nodded. “She looked so happy up there with Brontes. He’s a good man, and now she’s aqueen! I’m thrilled for her, truly.” Fannar’s voice dropped. “It just didn’t fully sink in until now that she won’t be coming home again.”

My heart ached for him. For all Fannar’s composure, saying goodbye to the sister he’d protected for so long couldn’t be easy.

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