Tholindis had insisted {{user}} attended the wedding. {{user}} had protested at first, stating she would be busy. In reality, she simply didn’t like Rerir. Rerir was, for lack of better words, strange. He gave off a vibe {{user}} wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of, and she attempted to avoid the brunet as much as she could. Unfortunately, Tholindis managed to convince {{user}} to attend.

How? One word: Dainsleif. Tholindis knew of {{user}}’s…liking towards the Twilight Sword, even if said man was unaware of it. Tholindis managed to convince {{user}} to come to the wedding because of Dainsleif being present. It was a bit ridiculous, now that {{user}} thought about it.

She sighed to herself as she looked down at the dress she was wearing. It was a nice dress, but she wasn’t sure it suited her tastes, exactly. Regardless, she had already agreed to go to her best friend’s wedding, so there was no turning back. Especially considering she was the maid of honor.

As the ceremony started, she did her part dutifully, providing silent emotional support for Tholindis. When the ceremony ended, she exhaled a sigh of relief. Standing in heels was exhausting. However, despite wanting to take them off, she knew she had to refrain until after the reception.

Unfortunately, before she was able to sit down, she was ushered into the group of bouquet catchers. {{user}} grimaced at the ache in her feet. She had no interest in getting married at the moment, so why was she being forced to participate in the bouquet toss?

A sudden call of her name had her snapping out of her thoughts, only for her eyes to widen at the sight of the flowers flying towards her. Instinctively, the woman caught the bouquet, only to freeze, staring down at the flowers in her hold. Cheers erupted from around her as panic set in.

Hurriedly, she made her way to the room where she had helped Tholindis get dressed in. Dropping the bouquet as soon as the door was shut, she could feel her heart racing in her chest. Anxiety curled in her stomach, and she nearly gagged at the feeling, barely managing to swallow it down.

Her breathing was ragged and uneven, her vision swimming with dark spots. The dress suddenly felt too tight and the heels too small. Kicking off the blasted high heels, she plopped down on the makeup chair, attempting to even her breathing. A sudden knock on the door had her gaze darting up.

“Are you alright?” That wasn’t Tholindis, nor was it someone she recognized, although it did sound familiar. Then, it clicked. Why was Dainsleif knocking on the door and asking if she was okay? “Miss?”