LIORA LED MAILAH through a side entrance that opened into what must have once been the a private chapel—now transformed into a bride's sanctuary. Stone walls softened with flowing white fabric, tall windows filtering golden Tuscan light into something ethereal, almost holy.
"Wait here," Liora commanded. "I need to check final positions. Don't peek. Don't wander. Don't even breathe too heavily—that dress is a masterpiece and I won't have it wrinkled before photos."
"I'll try to minimize my oxygen intake," Mailah said.
Liora gave her a look that suggested she wasn't entirely joking, then disappeared through an archway draped with more white fabric.
Mailah stood alone in the golden light, bouquet trembling slightly in her hands. Through the walls, she could hear muffled sounds—footsteps, low conversation, the rustle of movement as guests settled into their seats.
Supernatural beings. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.
All here to watch her marry a demon.
