Summer had crowned the kingdom in full splendor on the day of the wedding—roses heavy with perfume, sunlight gilding every surface as if the world itself had dressed for the occasion.
Evelyn stood before her mirror, scarcely recognizing herself. The white veil draped over her dark brown hair shimmered like morning frost, each thread woven with tiny pearls that caught the light with every breath. The gown's corset sculpted her already tall frame into something regal, almost otherworldly. Even Ruth had gasped, hands pressed to her mouth.
"You look like the moon made flesh." Ruth whispered to her.
Downstairs, the Campbell household had assembled in uncharacteristic reverence. Servants paused mid-task, their murmurs dying as Evelyn descended the staircase—slowly, carefully, as if afraid this vision would shatter.
Herbert Campbell looked up from the foyer—and froze.
For a heartbeat, it wasn't Evelyn he saw.
Another woman stood there, just as radiant, just as tall, but crowned with wildfire-red hair that had once been the talk of the court. The memory struck him like a physical blow. His throat tightened.
Evelyn's question hung in the air like a suspended note. "How do I look?"
For Herbert, time fractured. The present Evelyn - tall, radiant in her pearl-encrusted veil - superimposed perfectly over another bride from long ago. That same proud posture, that same unconscious tilt of the chin. Only the hair color differed-- where Evelyn's locks were rich chestnut, the woman in his memory had worn flames.
"You look so beautiful." The words tore from Herbert's throat, raw with unintended emotion. A single tear escaped before he could blink it away.
Cassie's breath caught. She knew that look - had seen it decades ago when Herbert had gazed at another woman in white--on his wedding day back then. Her jeweled bodice suddenly felt like a vise, her carefully constructed composure cracking as visceral pain lanced through her. The marble floor seemed to tilt beneath her satin slippers.
"Darling." She managed to act normal, voice honey-sweet even as her nails bit into her palms. "It's time to take Evelyn to the palace."
Herbert startled back to the present, hastily offering his arm. As they stepped into the royal carriage, Cassie's smile never wavered, she couldn't show her vulnerability in front of outsiders.
Evelyn, as the princess-to-be, travelled alone in a luxurious carriage. The gilded carriage jostled slightly as it rolled through the cheering throngs, but Evelyn barely noticed. Pressing her gloved hands against the velvet-cushioned seat, she leaned toward the window like a flower seeking sunlight. The glass fogged slightly with her nervous breath as she took in the sea of smiling faces - strangers tossing petals, children waving ribbons, their joyful cries rising like birdsong.
A sudden burst of laughter escaped her lips when a cluster of bluebells struck the window, scattering like tiny stars across the glass. Without thinking, she waved back at the crowd with both hands, her movements unguarded and free in a way she'd never dared at Campbell Manor. The diamond tiara slipped slightly over her brow, but she didn't bother adjusting it.
Sunlight streamed through the window then, gilding her cheekbones and setting the pearls in her veil aglow. For this suspended moment between homes, between identities, the weight of expectations lifted. No one here knew her as the traitor's daughter or the political bride. The cheers washing over her weren't for Lady Campbell or the future princess - they were for the radiant woman in white who laughed with her whole body, her joy as bright and uncomplicated as the summer sky.
Evelyn tilted her face into the warmth, eyes closed. Just for now, in this moving sanctuary of wood and gold leaf, she existed simply as herself. Not perfect. Not poised. Just Evelyn.