Serena
It was finally the morning of my wedding and instead of feeling excited about it, I felt like a bride forced into a wedding dress which technically was what I was.
The gown in question was unusually heavy, I felt like a tiny ant placed in a ball gown but it was a beautiful gown—that I couldn't deny.
We were supposed to head towards the venue with I and Damien going in the same car.
It was clearly not the typical wedding ritual because we were not supposed to see each other until we were at the altar but my dad decided the arrangements and Damien didn't protest.
It wouldn't have made any difference anyway. It's not like we were a proper couple.
The driver opened the car door, and I gathered the folds of the white gown carefully before stepping in. Damien followed right after, looking calm.
Outside, the palace guards and soldiers were already lined up. It was supposed to be a private wedding—no cameras, and no media coverage.
