fiction
The crown began begging before anyone touched it. From her place on the floor, the scullery girl heard it whisper, “Please. Don’t put me on his head.” / Chapter 18 / 20

Chapter 18 - Preparation for the Celebration

The preparations for the royal wedding transformed Oakhaven into a vibrant tapestry of color, music, and light. Banners of deep sapphire blue and brilliant silver draped from every stone balcony, and the palace gardens bloomed with late-season roses and fragrant lavender.

Lucy stood in the grand courtyard, supervising the placement of the festival tables while holding a clipboard filled with architectural and ceremonial schedules.

"Make sure the north gate tables have extra shading," Lucy instructed two nervous-looking footmen. "The afternoon sun hits that corner hardest."

"Yes, Lady Lucy!" the footmen chorused promptly, scrambling to adjust the benches.

A pair of familiar arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and a familiar chin rested gently on her shoulder.

"You're working too hard again, my love," William whispered into her ear, his breath warm against her neck.

Lucy leaned back against him with a contented sigh, turning slightly in his arms. "I'm just making sure everything is perfect. Half the kingdom is coming to the wedding feast, and if the pastry chef runs out of sugar tarts, I’ll never hear the end of it from the scullery staff."

William chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "The pastry chef has enough sugar to sweeten half the continent. Relax, Lucy. Today is about us."

She looked up at him, smiling softly. In a few short days, she would walk down the grand aisle of the cathedral—not as a frightened scullery girl hiding in the shadows, but as the queen of a healed kingdom.

"I'm not nervous," Lucy said, though her fingers fidgeted slightly with the silver ring on her hand. "Just... amazed. Sometimes it feels like a dream. Remember when we first spoke in the corridor, right after your coronation?"

"I remember thinking you were the boldest, most stubborn scullery girl in the entire realm," William replied affectionately.

"And you were the most miserable prince," she countered with a cheeky grin.

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"Fair point," he laughed, taking her hand. "Come on. The royal tailor is waiting for our final fittings, and if we're late, Marcus threatened to wear his armor to the ceremony."

Lucy laughed, letting William lead her away from the bustling courtyard, her heart full of a deep, unshakeable peace that resonated all the way down into the very stones of the palace beneath their feet.

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