Wrong Script, Right Love-Chapter 141: The Ceremony Begins

[Leif’s POV — Thorenvald Estate—Continuation]

The crown prince has summoned the devil. Does that also mean... Sirella is involved too?

I can’t say that out loud—not without raising a riot in this estate. But the thought slithers under my skin, cold and very, very persistent.

"Zpehyy..." I called quietly.

"Yes, Master?" he said, tail flicking.

"Keep an eye on her." My voice dropped into something darker than the elegant white suit i am wearing.

His pupils narrowed—fierce, protective. "Yes, master."

I let out a long breath.

"I will not let anyone... anyone messes with my wedding," I muttered.

Not devils. Not curses. Not fate. No one touches my wedding.

No one touches Alvar.

He hopped down gracefully as he sprinted out of the chamber with swift, quiet footsteps. The moment he disappeared—

My expression hardened. My fingers curled around the veil Alina insisted I wear. The silk fluttered with the morning breeze, beautiful and soft... but my heart felt heavy beneath it.

And just like that—the wedding ceremony began.

***

[Wedding Garden—Later—The wedding Ceremony begins]

The garden looked like a dream.

White lilies arched over the aisle like frozen moonlight, their petals trembling with every whisper of wind. Crystal lanterns swayed above, scattering tiny rainbows that danced over the path as if blessing each step. Silk ribbons streamed from the branches—silver, white, and pale gold—fluttering like pieces of starlight torn from the sky.

It was serene. It was breathtaking. And somehow... it was all for us.

I stopped at the entrance, inhaling deeply—trying, failing, trying again—to steady the wild thump of my heart.

Nick barreled past a group of servants, barking last-minute adjustments, then skidded to my side with surprising grace for a man who had just threatened a florist with exile.

"Everything alright, my lord?" he asked quietly, smoothing my collar like a worried mother hen.

"Yes," I lied through my teeth. "Just... pre-wedding jitters."

Nick’s expression softened instantly. "Entirely understandable. You’re about to marry a very... intense man."

I huffed a laugh. "Nick, you have no idea."

My eyes drifted over the gathering crowd.

Knights in polished armor stood proudly at the edges. The Crimson Pups were bouncing excitedly, tails wagging wildly. Dwarves sat stubbornly in the front rows because they "refuse to be blocked by tall folk." Elves shimmered like moving moonlight. And further back... villagers—people who had never spoken to a noble in their lives—held flowers, gifts, and hope in their hands.

And among them, nobles from the capital watched with politely curious eyes, whispering behind fans and gloves.

All of them... here to witness our wedding. My throat tightened unexpectedly.

Nick stepped aside and offered a small, respectful bow. "Well then... shall we, my lord?"

I hesitated only a heartbeat before nodding. "I... yes. Yes, I’m ready."

My palms were sweating, my heart racing, and my brain was screaming something suspiciously close to ’escape route!’

And yet—And yet—I took my first step.

The moment my foot touched the aisle, a breeze swept through the lilies, scattering petals in a gentle cascade ahead of me, like the world itself was lighting the path.

I lifted my chin, forcing my breath to steady.

"Yes..." I whispered, more to myself than anyone else."I’m all set."

And with that, I walked down the aisle—toward my future, towards the man I love. Toward the man waiting for me at the end of it.

Toward Alvar. Toward my future. Toward whatever destiny dared to come next.

***

[Alvar’s POV—Wedding Garden—When He Saw Him]

The world was noisy.

Whispers fluttered like restless birds. Silk rustled. Armor clattered faintly as knights tried (and failed) not to fidget. Soft music drifted across the garden like a fragile thread holding the ceremony together.

But the moment he appeared—Silence.

Not just among the guests. Not just in the breeze. Not just in the garden. My entire world...stilled.

There, at the entrance of the garden—framed by arching lilies and gilded sunlight—stood Leif.

My Leif.

Dressed in white and gold, cloak shimmering like spun moonlight, veil glowing with the pale radiance of dawn. His eyes gleamed softly beneath it, his cheeks were warm with a shy blush, and his maroon hair fell in gentle curls someone had cared for with far too much tenderness.

He looked—Like the season’s first snowfall. Like sunrise after a life of winter. Like a celestial visitor reluctantly pretending to be human.

My grip on the vow scroll tightened until the ribbon bit into my fingers.

For the first time in all my years of battle and duty—my heart genuinely forgot how to beat.

"...Leif..." The name slipped out, raw and reverent. "You’re... beautiful."

He took one step forward. And the light followed him.

A second step—and the lilies bent ever so slightly, as if bowing.

A third—and the entire garden glowed brighter, recognizing its new, gently luminous center.

The music changed—soft, airy, deliberate—wrapping around him like a divine blessing. My breath caught. My chest ached. It felt like something inside me cracked open.

I wanted to run to him. To sweep him up. To hold him so tightly the world would understand he was no longer free to wander away from me.

But he walked slowly—gracefully—as though the universe itself was savoring every heartbeat he took.

Then—His eyes lifted and met mine.

The impact was instant. A collision. A silent vow. A quiet, breathtaking destruction. Leif looked shy. He looked nervous. He looked like he was fiercely concentrating on not bolting, crying, or tripping.

He looked—

Perfect.Mine.Made for me.

"Gods..." I exhaled, voice unsteady. "He’s... he’s everything."

My fingers trembled around my sleeves.

I had seen him in every shade of emotion—fear, laughter, exhaustion, anger... that stubborn pout he thought I didn’t notice... that rare, bright smile he tried to hide behind sarcasm.

But this—

This Leif...walking toward me, veil glowing, lips parted, cloak brushing the flowers as if choosing which ones to bless—This was the Leif I wanted to protect for eternity.

He reached the halfway point.

And my disciplined, war-forged, cold-blooded Grand Duke heart—the one known for never faltering—nearly tore itself from my chest just to go to him faster.

The villagers sighed. The elves whispered ancient blessings. The dwarves muttered gruff compliments. The nobles stared as though witnessing something mythic.

Everyone was enchanted.

But none of them—none of them—looked at him the way I did.

Because none of them knew him.

His quiet bravery. His hidden insecurities. His fierce loyalty. His stubborn resilience. His earnest warmth. His laughter cracked the shell around my heart.

His love—my love.

When he reached the end of the aisle—He raised his head again. Our eyes locked—and something inside me simply yielded.

For the first time in my cursed, bloody, lonely existence—I understood devotion.

Not duty.Not politics.Not responsibility.

But love—pure, unwavering, eternal.

My lips curved—slow, helpless, and reverent. "Leif..." I breathed, barely managing the words. "You’re... breathtaking."

He flushed beautifully beneath the veil, muttering, "I guess...I succeeded in outshining you."

I stepped forward—just one step—and extended my hand. He hesitated for the smallest heartbeat. Then he placed his hand in mine.

Warm.Soft.Trusting.Mine.

A hush swept through the garden. I pulled him gently toward me—only enough for him to feel the steadiness I offered. And with my lips close to his ear, soft enough only he could hear—I whispered,

"Thank you... for choosing to walk toward me."

He smiled saying, "Thank you for being my first love."