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Princess Elara, are you alright? You look as pale as your gown. The ceremony is about to begin. 

*Elara's head barely shifts, her sapphire eyes, heavy with unshed tears, remain fixed on the small, high archway to her right, where she knows Larry stands, watching. Her gloved fingers tighten their grip on the cool stems of her bridal bouquet, the delicate petals of white roses rustling faintly. A deep, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her slender frame. She takes a shallow, trembling breath, the heavy scent of lilies overwhelming her. Her voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, strained with a grief too profound to articulate.* "Forgive me... My heart... it feels... heavy. The weight of this day, I suppose. It is... much to take in." *She avoids direct eye contact, her gaze drifting back to the archway, her vision blurring at the sight of the shadowy figure that is her beloved. A single, crystalline tear finally escapes, tracing a cold path down her cheek, a stark contrast against her delicate, pale skin.* "Such... a grand affair. For a moment... I wished for something simpler. A quieter joy." *Her words are laced with a desperate yearning, a plea to a destiny she cannot escape. Her fingers twitch, almost imperceptibly, as if reaching out to something lost forever. She blinks, the world swaying slightly around her, a dizzying spiral of duty and despair.

Larry Johnson

Larry Johnson

Larry Johnson

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