Chapter 4

Julian narrowed his eyes.

Since Damian couldn't lead the procession himself, someone else had to do it. And if Vivian had any say in it, she'd want Julian. He knew exactly how her mind worked.

She kept saying she admired Damian and wanted nothing more than to marry him. But in reality, it was all just a way to get Julian's attention. She probably put Caleb up to this visit, knowing Julian might refuse and thinking a friendly face might help change his mind.

Caleb had always had a soft spot for Vivian, mostly because she used to bake him things he liked. However, Julian had no intention of going to Windmere Estate for the wedding procession.

A palace maid brought in tea. Caleb took the cup, blew on it, and sipped slowly.

He still didn't speak, so Julian frowned and said, "Find someone else from the family to lead the procession. I don't have the time, nor do I have any interest in it."

Caleb blinked and looked up at him, a little confused. "But..."

Julian glanced at him. "What?"

Caleb swallowed his tea and scratched the back of his head, choosing his words carefully. "Well, Her Majesty originally thought you'd be the most fitting choice, since you're not married yet."

Julian made a short, dismissive sound. It was exactly what he'd expected.

"But Lady Sinclair said not to trouble you with it, so Her Majesty called me in and said I could go instead."

Julian went still. Vivian said she didn't want him?

He'd been ready to refuse the moment it was brought up, as he had no desire to escort Vivian anywhere. But hearing that she'd actually turned him down didn't bring the relief he expected. If anything, it left him with a vague, unsettled feeling he couldn't quite shake.

Caleb watched his expression and decided it didn't look like a happy one. He thought about it carefully, then offered, "Maybe she figured you're already busy enough and didn't want to add to your load. Unlike me who's got nothing going on and plenty of time on my hands."

Julian said nothing.

Sensing that the atmosphere had grown increasingly strange, Caleb suddenly felt the tea in his hand turn uncomfortably hot. He could no longer sit still, so he set the cup down and stood up.

"Actually, I just remembered I have somewhere to be. I should get going..."

Julian made a quiet sound of acknowledgment but didn't bother getting up to see him out.

Caleb took a couple of steps toward the door, then stopped. There were things he'd been holding back, and he couldn't quite let them go.

Turning around, he lowered his voice and said, "Julian, about what happened back then... she was innocent in all of it. Blaming her for that was never fair to her. Look how things turned out. You're not happy, and she's also..."

"Caleb," Julian cut him off, his brows furrowing as a faint displeasure crept into his tone. "Didn't you say you had somewhere to be?"

Caleb dropped his gaze.

"Yes," he muttered, swallowing everything else he'd wanted to say before quickly leaving.

-

June arrived quickly, and soon, it was time for the wedding.

The first thing Vivian did when she woke up was look out the window. The light was soft and pale, the sky clear. Not a cloud in sight, and no sign of rain. She let out a slow breath. It really was a good day.

She got up, washed, dressed, and settled herself in front of the vanity mirror. She sat still while the attendants worked around her, fixing her hair and applying makeup with careful, unhurried hands.

Maybe because she'd done all this before, she wasn't nervous. She didn't feel much of anything. It was just something to get through.

When everything was ready, Caleb arrived. By tradition, a male relative from the bride's family was supposed to escort her to the carriage. But the Sinclair men were mostly gone, lost on the battlefield, with a five-year-old child being the only one still living. There was no one else, so Caleb took on that role too.

He led Vivian toward the door, the sounds of celebration and well-wishes rising around them.

"Lady Sinclair, Julian won't be here today," he said quietly.

Vivian blinked. She wasn't sure why he would bring up something so unpleasant on such a joyful occasion.

"He's been sick. Ever since I came back from the palace that afternoon, he's been ill. He still hasn't recovered. The palace has kept it quiet, they didn't want word getting out..."

He seemed to want to say more, but Vivian let out a soft sigh and said, "Your Highness, I stopped caring about His Highness a long time ago. I know you mean well. But some things are over, and there's nothing left to do but keep moving forward."

Caleb went quiet, like the words had lodged somewhere in his throat.

Vivian patted his back gently, her voice easy and warm as she added, "It's my wedding day. Smile a little. And the next time you see me, don't forget to call me aunt."

Caleb kept his eyes down, caught somewhere between feeling sad and glad all at once.

Outside Windmere Estate, drums and trumpets rang out across the street. Damian's wedding procession had been waiting for some time already.

This marriage had been arranged by the king himself and overseen by the queen, so the ceremony was elaborate and grand. Yet Vivian could not shake the feeling that something was different. The wedding procession from Fairmont Estate seemed far more elaborate than Julian's had been in her past life, as if the people there had been waiting for this day for many years.

Because Damian was unconscious, the ceremony itself was kept simple. They moved through the necessary rituals, then Vivian was escorted to the bridal suite.

As she passed through the gate, she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. The guards on both sides had their right hands resting lightly at their waists, fingers close to the iron blades hanging there.

She'd heard Fairmont Estate was heavily guarded. Her father had once told her that this only proved one thing—there were many people who wanted Damian dead.

The bridal suite was spacious and elegant, every surface touched with blue and white, the traditional colors for weddings.

In her previous life, Highcrest Palace hadn't looked half this festive. After they'd drunk the wedding wine, Julian had gone to attend to his guests and left Vivian alone. He didn't come back for a long time.

She'd sat there in the empty room, the weight of her ceremonial headdress pressing down on her neck and shoulders. The ache spread across her whole back, making even breathing feel like an effort.

It wouldn't be like that this time.

Vivian turned her gaze toward the bed, where Damian lay on his back with his eyes closed.

The Winchester royal family had always produced beautiful people, men and women alike. Where Julian had a polished, almost delicate kind of handsomeness, Damian was something sharper. Cold and striking, with an edge to him, like a blade that had never been put back in its sheath.

A large, broad-shouldered man stood watch nearby.

"Greetings, Your Highness. My name is Harvey Miller."

Vivian recognized him. He was Damian's longest-serving deputy general, and it seemed he'd taken on the role of caretaker as well. He'd lost his left eye at some point and usually covered it with a plain leather patch. For the wedding today, he'd swapped it for a blue silk one instead. It was almost cheerful.

There were all kinds of rumors about the people of Fairmont Estate. Some said Harvey stood at nine feet tall and ate raw human flesh.

Right now, he dipped his head politely in Vivian's direction and spoke in a perfectly civil tone, saying, "His Highness has been unconscious for more than half a year. He's lost some weight, but otherwise has been stable. Every morning, he needs to be given his medicine, and with the weather this warm, he needs to be washed every other day."

Vivian said nothing.

Harvey seemed to think he'd given her the wrong impression, because he quickly added, "I handle all that personally, so you don't need to worry about anything. I've also set up a bed in the room across the way, if you'd like to rest there."

Vivian shook her head.

Harvey shifted, looking uncertain. "Then... would you prefer a suite in another wing?"

Since Damian had fallen unconscious, Harvey had cycled through servants tasked with his care. But they often only pretended to do their duty. They agreed politely, but in reality, were lazy about giving him medicine or cleaning him. They thought that since he was unconscious and couldn't speak, they could just do things carelessly.

In the past, the prince was bold and admired by everyone. But now that he was in a coma and seen as almost useless, people no longer respected him. Instead, they felt only dislike or indifference.

If the servants treated him that way, why would a bride from the Sinclair family be any different? She'd married into the household, but hardly knew Damian. Whatever she felt about him, it probably wasn't warmth.

That was what Harvey expected.

"A suite in another wing won't be necessary either," Vivian said, her voice soft and even. "His Highness and I are married, so there's no reason for separate rooms or beds. Starting tonight, I'll sleep beside him."

Harvey stared at her, too startled to respond.

"It's getting late. I'm going to wash up and take off my makeup," Vivian said with a small, calm smile, then turned and walked out.

She didn't see it, but behind her, Damian's fingers twitched.