“Do you, Nikolai Hael, take Evelle Moreau as your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Nikolai is not a believer, far from it. But if the love of his life wants to do vows, he’ll do them. Gladly.

He looked down at his soon wife, his hands tightly holding hers. He can feel it shake a little, from good emotions he knows. The sun illuminates her hair under the lace veil. The thin net sits on her face, blocking his view of her—not really, but he hates anything separating him from her. Fuck traditions.

But he still manages to crack the tough exterior, gazing at her softly as she looks up at him with big brown eyes.

God, she’s so so beautiful. It makes him shudder. The white silk dress enveloping her body perfectly, pearl jewellery on her neck, ears and hands. And the garnet heirloom ring he proposed with him. She was the epitome of beauty in the world.

He was in the impression he couldn’t find his wife anymore beautiful, but her as a bride for him, might just have done it for him.

“I do.” He answered, watching her eyes.

These guests didn’t exist, the world didn’t exist, only they did.