Time, cruel and indifferent, marched forward.
Seasons changed, laughter matured, and childhood promises quietly transformed into destiny.
The capital had never shone so brightly.
From the highest towers of the royal palace to the cobbled streets below, the kingdom bloomed in celebration. Silken banners cascaded from balconies, their ivory and gold fabric dancing in the wind. The air hummed with music, anticipation, and something almost sacred.
Today, Ophelia would become queen.
The grand cathedral stood like a monument to eternity, its towering arches bathed in sunlight. Inside, nobles, dignitaries, and royalty gathered beneath a ceiling of painted heavens.
Selara stood among them.
Clad not in armor, but in ceremonial attire befitting a duke's daughter, she felt strangely misplaced. Silk and jewels weighed heavier than steel ever had.
Her gaze never left Ophelia.
Ophelia moved like a dream down the aisle.
Her gown flowed behind her in waves of luminous white, delicate embroidery catching the light like scattered stardust. A veil of sheer lace framed her serene face, soft and radiant. Tiny white lilies were woven into her hair, forming a crown so gentle it seemed grown rather than placed.
She was breathtaking.
Not merely beautiful.
But untouchable.
Selara's chest tightened.
Pride swelled, sharp and warm.
Yet beneath it lingered something quieter, heavier.
Loss.
The crown prince waited at the altar, regal yet visibly undone by the sight of her. His composure faltered, his eyes betraying awe, devotion, and something fiercely possessive.
Ophelia reached him.
Their hands met.
And for a moment…
The world ceased.
Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting fractured rainbows upon marble floors. The choir's voices rose like whispers of angels.
Selara barely heard them.
Because Ophelia was smiling.
That same gentle smile Selara had known since childhood.
But now…
It belonged to another life.
"To have and to hold…"
The vows echoed through sacred halls.
Selara watched the prince's expression as he spoke, his voice steady but thick with emotion. Every word carried weight, every promise forged in certainty.
Ophelia's eyes shimmered.
Tears gathered like liquid light.
"I do."
The words were soft.
Yet thunderous.
The cathedral erupted in applause, joy spilling from every corner. Music swelled triumphantly as sunlight seemed to blaze brighter.
And then—
White wings burst into the sky.
Outside, as the royal doors opened, dozens of snow-white doves were released, their flight a breathtaking storm of feathers and grace. They soared upward, circling against the vast blue heavens like living blessings.
The crowd gasped.
Ophelia laughed.
Pure, luminous happiness radiating from her like warmth itself.
Selara stood beside her, watching the doves disappear into the endless sky.
"They're beautiful," Ophelia whispered.
Selara glanced at her sister.
"You're beautiful."
Ophelia smiled softly. "Stay with me."
The words struck deeper than intended.
Selara's gaze flickered.
To the palace.
To the guards.
To the waiting carriages.
To the distant banners of war.
"I can't."
Ophelia's fingers tightened around hers.
"You've done enough."
Selara shook her head gently.
"My battles haven't even begun."
The joy of celebration roared around them — laughter, cheers, music, life — yet within that noise bloomed a quiet, fragile silence shared only by sisters.
Ophelia's voice trembled.
"You always leave."
Selara's breath caught.
Because it was true.
And because it hurt.
Ophelia stepped closer, her veil brushing softly against Selara's shoulder.
"I'll miss you."
Selara swallowed.
A warrior's heart, steady before blades and bloodshed, faltered before something far more dangerous.
Emotion.
"You'll have a kingdom," Selara murmured.
"I'll still need my sister."
The words fractured something inside her.
Selara looked away.
Toward the horizon.
Toward duty.
Toward war.
Then, slowly, she removed something from her wrist — a slender silver band, worn smooth with time.
Ophelia's eyes widened.
"Selara…"
Selara took her sister's hand and fastened the band gently around her wrist.
"For protection."
Ophelia's lips trembled.
"You're the one who always protected me."
Selara forced a faint smile.
"Then consider it a reminder."
Ophelia's tears finally fell.
And Selara…
Selara pulled her into a fierce embrace.
Tight.
Desperate.
As though trying to memorize the warmth of her.
The music, the celebration, the fluttering banners — all faded into irrelevance.
There were only two sisters.
And the unbearable weight of goodbye.
When they parted, Ophelia's cheeks glistened.
Selara's eyes burned.
But warriors did not cry.
Not here.
Not today.
The carriage awaited.
The kingdom rejoiced.
And Selara…
Selara walked away.
Each step heavier than the last.
She did not turn back.
Because if she did—
She feared she might never leave.
Above the palace, the final doves vanished into the sky.
White wings.
Fleeting.
Like innocence.
Like peace.
Like the fragile happiness Selara did not yet know would soon be shattered forever.