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The morning of her wedding day dawned clear and bright, sunlight streaming through the windows of Amelia’s suite at her grandfather’s estate. For a moment, shey still in her bed, savoring thest few moments of being simply Amelia Wilson. By sunset, she would be Princess Amelia of Wystovia, wife to Crown Prince Niko.

The thought sent butterflies racing through her stomach–not entirely from nerves, but something more. In just a few short days, Niko had evolved from a stranger into… well, not quite a friend yet, but something with potential. Their lunch in the botanical gardens and their short conversations at the rehearsal dinner were tiny seeds of connection that might, with care and patience, grow into something more.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, sitting up against the pillows.

Her mother entered. “Good morning, darling. How did you sleep?”

“Surprisingly well,” Amelia admitted.

Gloria smiled, perching on the edge of the bed. “The hairstylist and makeup team will arrive in an hour. Tessa is already up and having breakfast. Your father is pacing the garden, looking terribly emotional, and I think he is a little on edge.”

“He’s not the only one,” Amelia said softly.

Her mother took her hand. “Cold feet?”

“No,” Amelia shook her head. “Just… taking it all in. Everything’s happening so fast. I… I mean, I know I’ve known for years that I would marry Niko but… I have only known him a few days.”

“Marriage is a journey that you explore together. You will have a lifetime ahead of you,” Gloria said, squeezing her hand. “Your father and I barely knew each other when we married, you know.”

Amelia blinked in surprise. “But I thought you two were college sweethearts?b” /b

“We’d dated for just three months when he proposed. Everyone said we were rushing things. Said we were too young.” Gloria’s smile turned nostalgic. “But sometimes, when it’s right, you know.”

“Did you? Know it was right?” Her mother had always been a little childlike in her outlook. Ted was her rock.

“I felt… like he was going to be it for me… the one,” her mother replied carefully. “The rest came with time.”

Amelia nodded slowly. She hoped more would grow between them in time.

“Well,” Gloria stood, “let’s get this royal wedding underway, shall we?”

The next few hours passed so quickly. Amelia was bathed, moisturized, primped, and polished until she barely recognized herself. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant updo, adorned with fresh flowers and a beautiful tiara… a gift from King Theodore, delivered that morning with a warm note weing her to the family.

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Tessa flitted around the room, keeping everyone’s spirits up with her steady stream of jokes and

encouragement.

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“You’re saving me from aplete meltdown,” Amelia whispered when they had a moment alone. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Tessa replied, straightening the veilid out on the bed. “Besides, how many people can say they’ve been part of an actual royal wedding? My Instagram would be blowing up if they hadn’t confiscated my phone this morning.” Amelia knew her friend was joking; she would never do anything to hurt their friendship.

Ameliaughed. “Pce security protocols. Sorry about that.”

“Worth it to see you looking like this.” Tessa stepped back, her expression softening. “You’re stunning, Amelia. Truly.”

The door opened, and Amelia’s grandfather entered, stopping short at the sight of her.

“Amelia,” he breathed, eyes growing misty. “You look exactly like your grandmother on our wedding day.”

The unexpected emotion in his voice brought tears to Amelia’s eyes. “Grandfather…”

“None of that,” he said gruffly, blinking rapidly. “You’ll ruin your makeup.” He crossed the room and took her hands in his. “I am so proud of you, my dear. So very proud.”

“Even though I haven’t been overexcited about all this?”

He chuckled. “A little resistance shows character.” His expression grew serious. “I truly believe this marriage will bring you happiness, Amelia. Prince Niko is a good man.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” she admitted.

“The car is ready whenever you are,” he said, straightening his tie. “Your parents are ready and waiting downstairs.”

Amelia took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

It was time.

The cathedral bells pealed across the capital city as Amelia’s car approached St. Bartholomew’s. Crowds lined the streets, waving gs and cheering as the royal motorcade passed. Through the tinted windows, she caught glimpses of their excited faces, these people who would soon be her people.

“Look at that turnout,” her father murmured, staring at the crowds. “Must be thousands.”

“The entire country is watching,” her grandfather added, his voice carrying a note of pride. “This marriage symbolizes the continued strength of Wystovia.”

Amelia swallowed hard. No pressure. She had seen some of the things the media had said about her, but it seemed like the people of Wystovia didn’t care.

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The car pulled up to the cathedral steps, where a red carpet had beenid out. Pce guards stood at attention, resplendent in formal uniforms. A small group of official greeters waited to escort them inside.

“This bis /bit,” her mother whispered, reaching across to squeeze her hand.

The car door opened, and a hush fell over the waiting crowd as Amelia emerged. Her wedding gown, a beautiful masterpiece of silk andce with a six–foot train, flowed behind her as her father helped her up the cathedral steps.

Inside the cathedral vestibule, her mother fussed with her veil onest time while Tessa adjusted the train. Amelia caught a glimpse of herself in the ss of a door. She could see how pale she was and hoped no one else noticed.

“Your Royal Highness.” The pce chambein bowed deeply. “Everything is ready. The guests are seated, and His Royal Highness Prince Niko awaits at the altar.”

Amelia nodded, her throat suddenly dry. This was really happening. They were already calling her by her new title, and she hadn’t even married Niko yet. But to them it was a done deal. No one would run out of a royal wedding thiste.

“Ready, sweetheart?” her father asked, offering his arm.

She ced her hand on his sleeve, drawing strength from him. “I’m ready, Dad.”

The massive cathedral doors swung open. The organist began the processional, and hundreds of faces turned toward her. The cathedral was a sea of color and formality, diplomats in medals and sashes, nobility in traditional dress, royalty from neighboring countries. Among them, Amelia spotted several familiar faces, Isabe gave her a bright smile as she passed, Lady Maria looking elegant but tight–lipped in the second row.

And thenb, /bat the end of the impossibly long aisle, stood Niko, and standing beside him was Alexei.

Niko was dressed in his formal military uniform, medals gleaming on his chest, a ceremonial sword at his hip. His dark eyes locked onto hers immediately, and something in his expression, a softening around his mouth, a warmth in his gaze helped steady her racing heart.

“Say the word and I’ll get you out of here,” her father whispered, patting her hand.

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