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Chapter 7 - VII | The Runaway Bride

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, stirring a man from his deep slumber. Chiseled features softened in the gentle light, accentuating the lines of years of determination etched on his face. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of a man who had seen many years of intrigue and mystery, yet still carried an air of quiet strength.

Out of habit, he went to his bathroom and washed his face with clear water. When he opened his eyes, he saw a man he had not seen in years. 'Wha—how?' He blinked, trying to reconcile his reflection with his memories. The face staring back at him was younger, less burdened by the years.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. A maid entered, advising him to move up his pace, for he must attend a wedding.

"Whose wedding is it...?" he asked, clueless. He didn't remember being invited to any weddings. He didn't know anyone in the kingdom getting married today.

"The Crown Prince and his fiancée, the Lady of the Rosenfield Household."

This left him speechless and confused.

As the carriage carried him through the bustling streets, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The Grand Cathedral of Astoria loomed ahead, a place he had only entered twice: once for his baptism as a child, and the second time for the cursed wedding. A wedding he had witnessed three years ago.

He stepped out of the carriage, the grandeur of the cathedral overwhelming.

"Isn't this... a bit much?" He hears as if someone heard the thought he had in mind. He nods to agree when another one from the chirping mamas disagrees, "How can anything be too much? This is the wedding between the Royal Family and the Rosenfield House. This much is to be expected!"

He raised his collar and slunk his way to the seats in the back, not wanting to draw attention.

Filled with apprehension and a haunting sense of déjà vu, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The door swung open, giving light and providing a clearer view of the cathedral. But no matter how many diamonds shimmered or how the flowers scattered on the floor, all eyes were on her.

He watched, anxiously, as the lady walked down the aisle. 'Her walk to the aisle feels much longer than it did the last time.' And maybe it was. For him, it was three years ago; he could not possibly have timed how long she walked toward the Crown Prince.

'What is happening? Am I in a dream? Is this because of the case...?' His thoughts were interrupted by the gasps of the ton. "What happened?" he whispered under his breath. "The Lady... The Lady refuses the Crown Prince!"

"What?!"

The lady fled from the aisle and ran from the cathedral.

'This—!' His surprise turned into intrigue as chaos erupted in the once-serene setting.

While the cathedral turned to chaos, he quickly left, intending to follow the runaway bride. However, when he looked for her outside the cathedral, he was simply caught by the wind and saw the bouquet she had dropped. It lay there, a symbol of her sudden departure and his inability to catch up with her.

Standing there, he felt the weight of the mystery pressing down on him. He vowed to uncover what had happened and why he was back in the timeline from three years ago. Marquess Blackwood knew he must await another chance to see her again, driven by the need to unravel the truth behind this altered reality and his unexpected return to the past.

....

A few days after the wedding, I found myself back in the Duke's study at the Rosenfield Household.

The Duke raised an eyebrow, his grumpy expression softening into one of mock horror. "The Empress Dowager, you say? Not! Do you know what kind of people she surrounds herself with? Conniving sycophants, every last one of them!"

From what I heard from Sir Zeke, the Duke is fairly acquainted to the Empress Dowager, or maybe it is the Duke's Father, it seems that he has a fair share of experience to throw such a fit.

'I always thought he was a composed man.'

"Daddy, it's just a visit—"

"A visit, she says!" He threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "The last time someone visited her, they came back talking about embroidery for three hours straight. Embroidery! And let's not forget the tea. Oh, the tea! If I have to hear about that special blend from the eastern provinces one more time..."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Daddy, you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous, am I?" He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you know what she did the last time I was there? She tried to set me up with Lady Penelope. Lady Penelope! The woman is a walking disaster. Can't walk two steps without tripping over her own feet. Imagine what she would do in a ballroom. Utter chaos."

I stifled a laugh, shaking my head. "I'm sure she means well."

"Ah, that woman, that made me realize how lucky I am with your mother, Seraphina..." His face softens.

Celeste's mother is only mentioned once in the novel, on how Celeste's features are molded by her mother, Lady Seraphina.

"The Empress Dowager means to drive me to an early grave with her schemes. And you, my dear, are far too precious to be caught up in her web of overly fragrant teas and matchmaking madness."

"You're overreacting, Daddy."

"Overreacting? Me? Never." He stood up, pacing the room. "I just care about your well-being. One minute you're visiting, the next you're embroidering cushions and being paired with some lordling who can't tell a hawk from a handsaw."

I burst out laughing. "Alright, alright, I promise not to get embroiled in any embroidery or matchmaking."

The Duke stopped pacing and looked at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Good. Now, just ignore the invitation and let me handle—"

"No, I... how about this. I will have Sir Zeke to accompany me to the palace, and I'll be quick. It is already bad that I... run away from her grandson. It's worse to decline the Empress Dowager's invitation."

"When did you—" He was not sure he knew who this woman was right in front of him, he never saw Celeste in the light caring for anyone's perception of her, she just do what she wanted to do. "Fine..."

He called for Sir Zeke and gave me his approval of my visitation at the palace.

When the day of my visitation arrived, Lady Rose and two other ladies helped me with my preparation. I had heard that the Empress Dowager disliked sparkly things, so I wanted to avoid them as much as possible and aim to look graceful yet humble. I was not there to showcase Celeste's beauty but rather to appease what might have been a misunderstanding.

When I stepped outside the household, I met the breeze of the upcoming spring, a very subtle soft, sweet, musky, and floral scent.

The Duke, Lady Rose, Miss Tan, and Miss Louise stood with worried yet warm looks as they waved their hands as I climbed into the carriage.

Sir Zeke momentarily joined me in the carriage after talking to the Duke and to the coachman. His presence was reassuring, though I couldn't help but feel a flutter of anxiety in my stomach.

As the carriage began to move, I glanced back at the Duke, who stood at the entrance, his eyes following us with a mixture of pride and concern. I took a deep breath and turned my gaze forward, determined to face whatever awaited me at the palace.

The journey felt both too long and too short. My mind raced with thoughts of the Empress Dowager and her intentions. What if she had already decided my fate based on that ill-fated encounter with her grandson?

As we approached the palace gates, the grandeur of the royal residence loomed before me, both intimidating and breathtaking. Sir Zeke's calm demeanor was a silent reminder to stay composed.

The carriage halted, and Sir Zeke stepped out first, extending a hand to help me down. I smoothed my dress, taking a moment to gather my thoughts before stepping onto the gravel path leading to the palace entrance.

With each step, I could feel the weight of the occasion pressing down on me. The grand doors opened, revealing a lavishly decorated hall that seemed to stretch endlessly. Servants and officials bustled about, their eyes briefly flickering towards me with curiosity.

A stern-looking butler approached, bowing slightly. "Lady Celeste, the Empress Dowager is expecting you."