Chapter 145

Third Person POV

“Damn her! Damn her! Damn her!” Amanda screamed, slamming the door behind her.

The wedding guests were gone, though it was still early. They had fled, repelled by the tension radiating off David like a storm cloud. People had known, had sensed, that he was furious. And no amount of charm or forced laughter on Amanda’s part had been enough to salvage the evening.

This was supposed to be her dream. The culmination of everything she had wanted, everything she had fought and sacrificed to achieve. But it was ruined.

Ruined because, even now, David couldn’t stop thinking about Ella.

Even if his thoughts had curdled into bitterness and hatred, she was still there, lodged in his mind like a splinter. On their wedding day. On the day Amanda had dreamed of for longer than she could even remember.

The tears that stung her eyes weren’t the helpless tears of sadness. No, they were tears of rage, of frustration, leaking out because she had no other way to release the anger threatening to consume her.

David was drunk somewhere downstairs, sulking and whining about his “miserable lot in life,” as if marrying her had been some terrible punishment. As if their bond meant nothing.

Oh, she knew he’d apologize in the morning—he always did. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. It didn’t lessen the sting of his indifference.

It was becoming painfully clear to Amanda that if she wanted her happy ending with David, it wasn’t enough to ruin Ella’s reputation. No.

She was going to have to destroy Ella completely.

Not just her life, but her memory—so utterly and completely that nothing remained to haunt them.

The thought made Amanda laugh despite her tears, a dark and bitter sound that echoed in the empty room.

Ella POV

A warm, content silence filled the empty room. The last of our guests had finally gone, leaving Alexander and me alone in the soft glow of the candlelit space.

It was well past midnight, and the staff had agreed to leave the cleanup for the morning. For now, it was just us, surrounded by the remnants of a perfect evening.

I swayed slightly as I walked, my cheeks warm from the champagne. My nerves during our first dance had been impossible to shake, so I’d turned to a few extra glasses to calm myself. Now, I was tipsy—drunk, really—and feeling uncharacteristically lighthearted.

Alexander wasn’t much better. His brother and a group of his friends had kept him busy with an endless string of toasts, each one more elaborate than the last. It had left him unsteady on his feet, though he still carried himself with that same easy charm.

We walked back from the door where we’d just waved goodbye to the last of the guests, leaning on each other for support. I clutched the heavy skirts of my gown, trying to keep my footing steady, though I was clearly failing.

“Looking at us now,” I said, laughing at my clumsy attempts to stay upright, “no one would believe how gracefully we danced earlier.”

Alexander’s laugh was deep and warm, his gaze amused as he watched me struggle. “Yes, we were the picture of elegance then,” he said with a teasing smile. “Now, we’re just two fools who celebrated too hard.”

“It was hard not to celebrate,” I said, smiling up at him. “Everything went so much better than I ever could have dreamed.”

“It was a raging success,” he agreed, his pride evident. “I still can’t believe we pulled it all off so perfectly.”

“This was the kind of wedding little girls dream of,” I said softly, unable to keep the wistful note out of my voice.

Alexander tilted his head, a faint frown tugging at his lips. “Little girls dream of their weddings?”

“Not all little girls,” I admitted. “But some.”

“Did you?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said simply.

His sharp scoff startled me, and for a moment, I felt the sting of his reaction. But before I could say anything, he reached for my hand, his expression softening.

“You spent your whole life dreaming of that day, only for that bastard David to turn it into a miserable experience.” His voice was low, threaded with barely restrained anger. “As if I needed more reasons to hate David Lake.”

Just hearing the man’s name was enough to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I shook my head, forcing a smile. “Let’s not talk about him tonight. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to discuss on that topic by morning, considering—”

“Considering the entire kingdom came to our wedding,” Alexander interrupted, his tone amused. “And David is going to be absolutely furious.”

“Exactly,” I agreed with a grin. “So, for now, let’s just focus on our success.”

Alexander chuckled softly and glanced around the room. “I think it’s time to blow these candles out and head up to bed while we’re still able to move somewhat normally.”

I gestured to the space around us, where most of the candles had already burned down to stubs. “It shouldn’t take long—most of them are nearly out anyway.”

“Good,” he said, crossing to the far end of the room. “The sooner we’re in our suite, the better.”

I made my way to the opposite end of the room and started blowing out the candles one by one. For a brief moment, I regretted choosing real wax candles instead of something electric we could turn off with the flick of a switch.

But as I glanced at the soft flickering glow that still filled the space, I knew we’d made the right decision. The effect was undeniably romantic and exactly the atmosphere we’d hoped for.

The quiet was soothing as I moved along the edge of the room, extinguishing the little flames. When I glanced up, I saw Alexander already much closer to the center than I was. I quickened my pace, trying to catch up, but my voluminous skirts made any attempt at speed a dangerous endeavor.

The thought of tripping and setting myself—or worse, my dress—on fire made me slow down immediately. I let out a quiet laugh at the absurdity of the thought and took my time, savoring the peaceful, flickering light that surrounded us.

A few more moments passed as I bent down to blow out another candle. Just as I leaned in, I heard Alexander’s footsteps approaching from behind. Before I could stand and acknowledge him, I was suddenly hoisted into the air.

I let out a startled shout, my voice giving way to laughter as Alexander threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “What are you doing?” I asked, unable to stop giggling.

“Carrying my bride up to our room,” he replied, his tone full of teasing amusement.

Slater had been kind enough to offer us one of the enormous, beautifully appointed bedrooms on the upper level of the castle for the night. It meant we didn’t have to rush out as soon as our guests left or worry about tidying up immediately, which we were both grateful for.

But it wasn’t until this moment—tossed over Alexander’s shoulder and heading upstairs—that the prospect of spending the night with him fully registered. Up until now, I’d been so preoccupied with other details of the day that the thought hadn’t lingered long enough to make an impact.

Now, however, heat rose to my cheeks as Alexander shifted me from his shoulder into a proper bridal carry. His charming smile was as present as ever, making my heart flutter in a way I couldn’t ignore.

He crossed the room with ease and began ascending the stairs, holding me securely as if I weighed nothing at all.