Wicked Husband-Chapter 51 - 50

Eileen slowly made her way to the wedding venue. It was the moment she stepped out of the mansion.

A cheerful melody, snippets of conversation, laughter, and the chirping of birds all blended together in a symphony of sounds. All eyes turned to the bride’s entrance as Eileen emerged.

The bustling crowd fell silent abruptly as Eileen stepped outside, a moment of hushed anticipation enveloping the scene.

Even the musicians’ performance halted as if frozen by magic. In the suspended time of the banquet hall, only the mournful cry of a confused bird echoed softly.

Eileen clenched the bouquet tightly in her hand, using it to conceal her trembling fingers. Her gaze remained fixed diagonally ahead, focusing solely on the path before her.

The carriage ride had already been tense. Despite her efforts to steel herself, she felt on the verge of vomiting from the uneasy reactions of the guests. The thin veil covering her face seemed to weigh heavily, adding to her discomfort.

She would have welcomed laughter, even if it were derisive. Anything would have been preferable to the suffocating silence that no one dared to break.

What made the situation even more miserable was the knowledge that Ornella was witnessing it all. How gleefully she must be laughing inwardly. Eileen could easily imagine her blowing smoke in her face and sarcastically asking, "Enjoying the wedding?"

The night before, she had fretted about the possibility of violence erupting at the wedding venue following Rhotan’s warning, but now she found herself thinking it might be preferable to going through with the marriage.

’No, stop it. This kind of thinking...’

Despite everyone’s assurances to protect her at all costs, it was a line of thought Eileen couldn’t entertain, no matter how challenging the situation became. She silently shook her head and focused on placing one foot in front of the other.

The musicians, who had stood frozen for a while, finally resumed playing. Yet, the guests remained silent, their hushed anticipation palpable.

Finally, Eileen reached where her father was standing. He stood there in a slightly rumpled suit, with a faint scent of alcohol lingering about him, but Eileen chose to ignore it. Simply not being drunk would have been enough.

"You look beautiful," her father said with apparent emotion as he approached her.

Eileen murmured a small thank you, but closed her mouth tightly. Her father then took her hand and stood with her at the head of the white aisle.

Keeping her gaze fixed on the clean fabric, Eileen lifted her head slightly. . She longed to catch a glimpse of Cesare. Just seeing him might grant her the courage to endure the remainder of the wedding.

If anyone could find her endearing, no matter her appearance, it would be Cesare.

Perhaps he wouldn’t mind her heavily adorned state. With cautious hope, she lifted her head and peered ahead. And there, at the end of the white aisle, stood a man.

It had been a week since she last saw him. Cesare was dressed in the uniform of the Imperial Army’s supreme commander. He had shed the hat and cloak from his parade attire, adorning his chest with a white lily boutonniere embellished with medals and ribbons.

He stood there, awaiting Eileen in the manner she adored most—as the groom of this wedding.

The moment she laid eyes on Cesare, a wave of relief washed over her. The outdoor wedding venue, adorned with thousands of flowers, finally came into clear focus.

The intense and fresh scent of flowers, the beautiful march played by the musicians, and the applause of the guests—Eileen suddenly became aware of the vibrant world around her, a world she had failed to notice until now. It flooded over her, restoring color to her previously colorless existence.

As she stood on the flower-strewn aisle, Eileen felt her tension and fear slowly dissipate, replaced by a different kind of tension that filled her chest.

In that moment, she couldn’t help but reminisce about the first time she met him in a lily field. She recalled the voice that had held her as a ten-year-old and said, "You must be Lily."

It was love at first sight. The naive young Eileen, knowing nothing of the world, had fallen in love with the Prince of the empire. Cesare reciprocated her love abundantly. He cherished Eileen like his own child, overseeing her every growth and showering her with affection even greater than parents could provide.

Because of him, Eileen could exist. Cesare was her entire world.

She had transitioned from being his cherished ward to his beloved wife, but as long as she could remain by his side in any capacity... Eileen was willing to pay any price.

Gazing at the man she loved, Eileen took a step forward. Her father, somewhat flustered, hastened to catch up and escort her.

Previously fixated on the floor, Eileen’s gaze was now solely fixed on Cesare. The closer she drew to him, the less anything else mattered.

Finally, she halted before Cesare. Standing face to face with him, Eileen blinked slowly. The man before her was not a figment of her imagination; no matter how many times she blinked, he remained steadfastly real.

Yet, despite his tangible presence, it still felt surreal, as if she were in a dream. She half-wished to pinch her arm to ensure she wasn’t imagining it all. The notion that this man was about to become her husband seemed almost too fantastical to grasp. If someone were to burst in at that moment and declare, "You’re not the bride," she might readily believe it to be true.

Her father placed her hand in Cesare’s, who accepted it quietly. With his role in the wedding fulfilled, her father stepped aside, though Eileen hardly noticed. All her focus was fixed unwaveringly on Cesare.

The firm grip of Cesare’s hand conveyed a tangible sense of reality, even through the slight pain it caused. Eileen called out to him with a trembling voice.

"Cesare..."

She hoped desperately for him to respond, to call out her name, confirming that this moment was indeed real. Through the veil that obscured her vision, she looked at him with urgency, longing for his acknowledgment.

Even through the blurry veil, Cesare’s red eyes were unmistakable, clear and filled with Eileen. In a surprising move, he released her hand, causing Eileen to watch in astonishment as he lifted her veil.

As her vision cleared, Eileen and Cesare locked eyes. The pounding of her heart reverberated in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. Before her stood the unbelievably handsome man, and involuntarily, Eileen’s lips parted slightly.

There was a look on Cesare’s face that she had never seen before. The man who always possessed a clear, sharp gaze now appeared dreamy, as if lost in a reverie. His eyes, enchanted by an ethereal beauty, were fixed intently on Eileen, mirroring her own gaze.

His intense scrutiny felt hot and relentless, as though every glance was a searing flame. After what seemed like an eternity, Cesare slowly parted his lips.

"Eileen."

His voice, faintly trembling, whispered her name again, filled with an indescribable tenderness.

"Eileen..."

He breathed her name like a sigh, then gently lifted the veil, allowing it to cascade down behind her.

Lost in the moment with Cesare, Eileen suddenly remembered the officiant waiting at the platform. The high priest from the temple was glaring with bulging eyes, his gaze darting back and forth between Eileen and Cesare.

’Is it because he lifted the veil first?’

Traditionally, lifting the veil was done right before the vows. While it was an unusual action, it wasn’t necessarily wrong. It shouldn’t have been enough to cause such a stir... Perhaps the Grand Duke’s wedding demanded stricter adherence to customs. Eileen wasn’t entirely sure, but she and Cesare stood resolutely before the officiant, ready to proceed with the ceremony.

The old high priest appeared lost in thought until Cesare subtly furrowed his brows, prompting the priest to start the ceremony with a jolt.

As the high priest recited the marriage prayer, Eileen fidgeted with the hand clasped in Cesare’s. Sensing her nervousness, Cesare gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before gently releasing it.

Following the officiant’s prayer, Cesare was the first to recite his vow:

"I, Cesare Traon Karl Erzet, as Grand Duke of the Traon Empire, swear in the name of the Gods: eternal love that will never change, true trust that will never falter, and to be the winged lion that protects our new family."

He paused after uttering the phrase reserved only for nobility, then continued to complete the vow:

"...to raise my sword without hesitation for my lady."

The final words echoed those of a soldier’s wedding prayer. Similarly, Eileen’s concluding vow reflected the commitment of a woman marrying a soldier.

"I, Eileen Elrod, representing the Baron Elrod family, swear in the name of the Gods: eternal love that will never change, obedience without deceit, and for peace to flourish in our new family like the olive tree."

With heartfelt sincerity, Eileen offered her prayer to the gods:

"...to weave a laurel wreath for my knight."

She prayed that Cesare would always be blessed with the glory of victory.

***