Morning came quickly.
By nine, the Elion estate was already humming with life.
Servants walked through the estate, carrying flowers, linens, and furniture. Military officers showed up in their formal uniforms, and Virell family members quietly discussed where everyone should sit.
There was laughter, bubbling words, excitement, and curiosity.
Callum remained standing in front of the east windows, his black shirt sleeves rolled to his forearms. His eyes were dull as he watched the busy preparations. Then, as he tilted his head, he saw the young servant struggling to push a heavy wooden crate through the door.
"Careful!" a voice called out from the other side of the room. "Those are the ceremonial glasses!"
The warning had barely been spoken when the servant tripped at the doorway. Callum reacted quickly and grabbed the crate just before it hit the floor.
"Where are these going?" he asked with a steady voice.
The young servant looked up, confusion evident on his face. "Sir?"
"The glasses," Callum said.
The servant blinked, suddenly remembering, "Ah--- the west dining hall, sir."
Callum nodded reflectively. "Then you shouldn't bring them through the main corridor. It's too congested with people moving about."
He then helped the young man by picking up one end of the crate. The servant's eyes widened in disbelief. "Sir, you don't have to..."
"Just walk," Callum instructed firmly, setting the pace as they carefully changed direction toward the west dining hall.
Then, when Callum went to the main area, he was met with yet another challenge. Lengths of crisp white fabric lay strewn across the floor, where two decorators were embroiled in an animated debate over the ideal placement of the ceremonial arch.
"No, the commander will be seated here," one insisted while jabbing a finger at the ground.
"The bride will enter from the east!" the other countered, exasperated.
"Then the arch needs to face the garden," the first decorator reiterated.
Callum stopped, feeling irritated, though he stayed calm. "Move it," he said, his voice cutting through the noise.
Both decorators turned their heads in surprise. "Sir?" they chorused. There was shock in their stares, but they hid it with fast blinks.
"The arch," he continued, gesturing decisively toward the garden. "Three feet to the left."
One decorator hesitated, glancing anxiously at his colleague. "Wouldn't that block the eastern windows?"
"Only if you put it there," Callum replied. Then, he walked over to mark a spot. He bent down and moved it to the spot he wanted. "Here."
The decorators exchanged a glance, a silent communication circulating between them. After a moment, they answered in unison. "Yes, sir."
As Callum stepped back to observe, the rearrangement immediately yielded clarity and balance to the space. His instinct told him to walk away now, letting the assigned do their work, but an odd feeling of investment kept him from leaving.
"Those flowers," he said, turning to the florist who was arranging blooms at the far end of the table. She looked up, distracted by his presence.
"The white ones, sir?" she asked, pointing to a cluster of pristine petals.
"Too many," he replied sharply.
She blinked in surprise. "But this was specifically requested by Ms. Sera, sir."
"I know," he replied, eyes sweeping over the lavish blooms crowding the tables. "Keep the white, but take away half the lilies."
"Why?" the florist asked in confusion.
"They'll overpower the room."
The florist stalled at first, taken aback by his assertiveness, but then she obeyed.
As he turned away, a sense of bewilderment rolled over him. He couldn't quite fathom why he felt compelled to intervene in the arrangements. Perhaps it was the haunting realization that watching everyone prepare for the wedding, with their joyful noise, felt unbearable from the sidelines, as he grappled with the notion that this grand event held no place in his life.
---
Sera arrived at the estate just before noon.
Her mind was swirling with expectation of chaos, but to her astonishment, she was greeted by an atmosphere of calm and elegance as she stepped through the grand gates.
She took a moment to watch.
The ceremonial arch had been thoughtfully relocated to the eastern side. The warm afternoon sun poured through the tall windows, illuminating everything in its golden light.
As she continued toward the entrance, her face remained still, but her voice spelled out her curiosity. "Who made these changes?" she asked, her tone a bit more demanding than she intended.
The decorator, a compact figure standing nearby, straightened up. "Mr. Virell," he answered, struggling to keep his composure under her gaze.
Sera's eyes immediately darted around. It was full of an unmistakable outline of a Virell.
Silence enveloped them for a moment as Sera continued to walk, her thoughts flickering like a candle in the wind. Workers paused to bow as she passed, their faces holding a hint of amusement, as if they shared a lighthearted secret that she didn't yet understand.
Her attention shifted to the eastern gallery, where she froze at the sight of their portrait that was framed by lilies. Those photos display their joyous youth. Sera's breathing twisted as she stared.
"Who chose these pictures?"
"Mr. Virell," the servant answered after a second.
Determined to understand this new dynamic, she turned to the nearest servant. "Did Callum really orchestrate all of this?"
The servant nodded. A glimmer of admiration in his tone. "He's been here since early morning, Miss."
"What is he exactly meddling in?"
The servant managed a faint smile, clearly entertained by her curiosity. "Everything."
"Everything?" Sera asked. Her pitch in pretended lowness.
The young servant chuckled. "Miss, he even carried the ceremonial glasses himself.
"Sera blinked. "He did?"
The servant nodded as if his life depended on it.
For the first time, a gentle smile threatened to break through Sera's carefully constructed composure.
"Where is he?" she asked, eager to witness this unexpected side of Callum for herself.
"In the garden, Miss," the servant replied, pointing toward a busy area where she could find him.
Following the servant's direction, Sera started her search.
There he stood among the workers, clipboard in hand, directing the careful placement of chairs with crisp gestures. His rolled sleeves revealed a man transformed, so different from the weary figure she remembered from yesternight.
Sera paused at the edge of the garden, observing as he immersed himself.
A worker handed him another list, which Callum took without protest. When his eyes met Sera's, time seemed to pause, the air charged with something unspoken as they both took in the moment.
"You're early," he said to break the silence between them.
Sera took a deeper look at him and responded, "You seem to have changed quite a lot."
His expression flickered. "Yes, because this is my wedding, and I want it to be everything I've dreamed it could be."
In that moment, the admiration she held for him was overshadowed by an unbearable ache, a gnawing sense of loss that twisted her insides. She didn't dare to face the emotions. Thus, she turned and said, "Fine, if that's how you want to handle it."
But after several steps, she paused and added, "But can you also add more greens?"
"Okay."
Just like that, most of the white lilies she had requested had been replaced by delicate green daisies, creating a sense of elegant simplicity.