The ceremony ended with little fanfare.
There were no cheers, no blessings. Just a single toll of the temple bell echoing across the marble hall like a death knell.
Illya stood still, spine straight, while the priest intoned the final lines of the Rite of Union. She didn't look at Elias, and he didn't look at her—at least, not that she could see.
When it was done, the priest gave a polite nod, his eyes flicking briefly to the Archduke before quickly turning away. No kiss was exchanged. No vows. No hands held. Just the sound of Elias's cane tapping against stone as he turned and walked toward the doors.
Without a word.
Two guards in blackened armor fell into step behind him. The crowd began to murmur again.
Illya hesitated. For a moment, she thought maybe this had all been a farce, a performance meant to humiliate her. But then her mother's quiet voice came from behind.
"Go."
Illya lifted her chin and followed.
____________________________________________
Outside the temple, a black carriage awaited. Sleek and cold, with no crest save for a stylized Phoenix engraved in silver across its door.
Elias climbed in without assistance.
Illya approached slowly, heart pounding. One of the guards opened the door for her, not meeting her eyes...but to her surprise, Elias' hand reached out for her to grab. She looked up at him...then took his hand and stepped up inside.
The interior was surprisingly warm. Velvet-lined, lit with a soft enchantment that gave off a pale blue glow. Across from her sat her new husband.
He didn't speak, for a moment.
The silk veil was gone, replaced by what appeared to be a full facial mask made of iron- even so, around the edges she could see what he tried to hide- the edge of a scar running a little ways down his neck. The skin was rough, twisted by flame—and still, somehow, alive. Heat shimmered faintly around it, like embers under the surface.
His eyes were peering out from the cold metal, a cold grayish blue that didn't seem to blink as he watched her.
She sat with poise, legs crossed at the ankle, back straight. If he thought she would cower, he would be disappointed.
Seconds passed. Then a minute.
Then:
"I never wished to marry, you know." His voice was low, gravelly. Rich. Older than she expected—but not elderly, but aged by pain and silence. Perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. It was a voice riddled with expectation.
Illya met his gaze, or tried to. "That is quite the thing to say to a new bride."
There was a pause. She thought she saw the edge of his mouth twitch.
"Well....I meant no offense. I merely...do no know what your family has told you but...I thought you should know that I was forced into this, same as you. Perhaps that would bring you peace"
He sounded a little softer, almost amused.
Almost.
The silence returned, heavier now. She didn't really know what to say to that.
The carriage began to move. Through the tinted window, she watched the capital fade—its gilded towers and polished stone giving way to hills, then forests.
She had no idea where they were going.
"How old are you?" he asked.
Illya folded her hands in her lap. "Twenty. You?"
Another pause.
"Thirty-Six."
She had been right on the money, then. He asked another question
"Do you know anything about the North?"
"No."
"You'll learn."
It wasn't a threat. Not quite. But there was something in his tone that said it was not to be what she had thought.
The ride lasted hours.
They spoke a little here and there—mostly of small things. How many siblings she had. What she liked to do. She didn't have many answers; she hadn't been allowed to do much in the fourteen years since her mother's remarriage. Still, she offered what she could: reading, writing, a little dancing when no one was watching.
His questions were soft, careful. She didn't expect that.
Eventually, the conversation faded, replaced by the rhythm of hooves and wheels over stone. Silence settled, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Just... unfamiliar.
Illya stared at the changing landscape outside the window.
The woods grew less wild as they traveled. Roads became smoother. Trees gave way to manicured groves, flower-draped archways, and tall lanterns glowing with enchanted flame. Ivy curled up stone columns. Small houses dotted the horizon—clean, well-kept homes with blooming gardens and laughter spilling from their windows.
People stood by the roadside as the carriage passed. Farmers. Bakers. Children with sun-warmed cheeks.
And they waved.
They waved at the carriage—at Elias.
"Welcome back, Archduke Wylt!" a man called, raising his hat with a grin.
"Blessings on your bride!" cried an older woman, clasping her hands with misty eyes.
Illya blinked. She wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't this.
Elias gave a small nod in return, not smiling but acknowledging them.
When the carriage finally slowed, it wasn't at a shadowed fortress—but at a palace of carved white stone and golden glass. Lush gardens framed its many balconies, fountains trickled beside marble stairways, and the banners of House Wylt rippled gently in the breeze—silver on navy blue, shaped like a phoenix rising through flame.
Velwynd Keep.
The Archduke's domain.
Illya stepped out onto the stone path, greeted by the scent of jasmine and warm earth. The air was cooler here, but not harsh. Inviting.
Elias emerged beside her, and the gathered staff bowed—not out of fear, but reverence.
A steward with a sunburst pin stepped forward, smiling warmly. "Welcome home, my lord. And... my lady. It is a joy to have you here."
My lady. This time, the words felt less like a mockery. They still didn't quite fit—but maybe they could.
"Simon, Prepare her chambers," Elias said, his voice quieter now. "See to the meal as well....for now, bring her stuff into the foyer and tend to her bath."
The steward nodded and motioned for her to follow. As she turned, Illya looked up at the palace once more—light dancing in its tall windows, ivy winding around stained glass, voices echoing faintly from within.
And then she glanced back at her husband, still veiled and unreadable.
A beautiful land. A warm welcome. A palace of light and gold.
What kind of monster builds a place like this?