ICE HUNDRED AND TWELVE: BECOMING MRS. SLADE.

MADISON'S POV:

The sky that morning looked painted by the gods—lavender clouds streaking across a golden dawn, the ocean below catching every hue and shimmering it back like glass. Somewhere between the rhythm of the waves and the hum of drums in the distance, I realized that this was really happening. I was marrying Thane Slade.

I sat close to the window, enjoying the view. Behind me, a team of women worked magic—braiding, pinning, draping—transforming me into a beauty beyond comprehension.

"Hold still, princess," one of them murmured, adjusting the veil on my head.

Princess. The word still felt new—beautiful but borrowed, like wearing someone else’s crown.

Except it was mine. Had always been mine. I was just learning to wear it.

The venue was breathtaking, a fusion of everything I was. The ceremony would take place in a garden here in the Netherlands, where an ancient baobab tree stood sentinel. But Eden and Mom had transformed the space into something mythical.

White silk draped be