Janelle's POV
The morning sun filtered through the stained glass windows of the castle's chapel, casting rainbow patterns across the stone floor where I stood in my borrowed wedding dress. The gown was simple but beautiful, cream-colored silk that Clara had managed to find from Lady Margaret's old wardrobe. It fit me well enough, though the bodice was a bit loose where I'd lost weight during the weeks of torment following my broken engagement.
"You look beautiful," Clara whispered, adjusting the small circlet of white roses she'd woven for my hair. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Lord Darius is the luckiest man in the kingdom."
I managed a weak smile, though my stomach churned with anxiety. Three weeks had passed since that horrible night when I'd found Adrian drunk and crying. Three weeks since I'd accepted that our love was impossible, that survival meant marrying a good man who deserved better than a broken heart.
