VowsInSilence
The villa was hushed, the kind of silence that rang louder than a crowd. Tucked away from the city and hidden behind wrought iron gates and ivy-covered walls, it was the perfect venue for a wedding that had nothing to do with love.
Elara sat before the mirror in the bridal suite, still as glass, dressed in an ivory satin gown chosen not by her, but by Mrs. Reeve and an elite stylist who claimed 'clean lines speak dignity.' Her veil lay folded neatly on the vanity untouched. Rosa, her housemaid, stood behind her,adjusting a final pin in her hair with shaky fingers.
"You'll do fine," Rosa whispered,forcing a smile into the reflection.
Elara met her eyes, then looked away. "It's not about fine. It's about getting through it."
There was no music. No bridesmaids. No celebration. Only obligation dressed in lace and polished marble.
A knock on the door signaled it was time. Elara rose, heels clacking softly against the marble floor as she walked to the courtyard. Outside, the garden had been transformed into an altar, with white roses lining the aisle and cream silk draped along the chairs. Twenty guests,most of them,board members or distant relatives,sat like statues.
At the altar stood Killian, emotionless in a tailored tuxedo, his hands clasped I front of him.
Elara met his gaze as she walked. He didn't smile. She didn't either.
The officiant began the ceremony quickly, sparing theatrics. Words were spoken, vows exchanged- not promises of love but echoes of duty.
They slipped rings into each other's fingers without shaking hands.
"You may now kiss the bride." The officiant said.
Killian leaned in, his lips grazing her cheek- cold, detached, a kiss made of obligation,not affection.
There were no gasps. No claps. Only silence and a few whispers trailing like smoke.
It was done.
----------
Later that evening, after the reserved dinner and careful press photos had been taken, the family gathered beneath a marble archway lit by hanging glass lanterns. That was when grandfather Reeve called them forward.
The patriarch sat like a king on a wrought-iron bench, silver hair brushed neatly back, cane resting across his knees. His sharp eyes surveyed them both like chess pieces. Mrs. Reeve stood quietly behind, him arms folded.
"You'll move in together," he said cutting past pleasantries.
Killian's posture stiffened. "We're sorting...."
"You'll move in together tonight," grandfather Reeve interrupted voice clipped and cold. "This isn't a schoolyard relationship. This is marriage. One that's already hanging on a thread in the eyes of the public."
His eyes tuned to Elara assessing. "You've already been given a contract. You know what it demands. You're a smart girl."
Elara remained composed. "Yes,sir,"
His voice sharpened. "Then you understand there's no room for hesitation on the child clause. The longer you delay, the more power you lose in this family."
Killian's jaw tensed. He looked like he was about to speak, but Elara placed a steady hand on his sleeve, quieting him.
Her voice was soft but unwavering.
"I've already agreed to everything. I'll uphold it."
Grandfather Reeve gave a small,approving nod. "Good. Make sure your loyalty isn't only in words."
Then,dismissing them with a wave if his hand. He turned away.
Mrs. Reeve didn't speak but the curl of her lips said enough.
As they walked away from the gathering, Killian spoke in a low voice.
"You didn't have to agree to that so easily."
"I did," Elara said calmly,her heels clicking beneath her. "There's no point resisting what's already carved in stone."
He looked at her, expression unreadable. "Then I'll send someone to help you move in."
"No need," She replied. "I'll pack my life up myself. I'm used to leaving places behind."
He didn't argue.
Their wedding had ended. The performance ahead would be the real test.