"I thought you would be at the—"
"Someone has to help you and stand behind you!" Aria said firmly.
She was dressed in a flowing white gown that shimmered softly in the morning light, stunning in the same way every other person attending the wedding was meant to be. White was compulsory for all guests. Red, bold and unmistakable, was reserved solely for the bride and her partner.
Rymora smiled faintly even as Aria took her hands, her grip warm and grounding, allowing her to lead her forward. Her heart pounded violently in her chest as they approached the gates. The sound of distant footsteps, murmurs, and the soft clatter of guards shifting positions echoed around them.
Even through her veil, Rymora easily spotted Gregory. He stood to the side, deliberately slouched, pretending to be nothing more than a passerby lingering too long. Her stomach tightened.
