A cold sweat broke across the priest's brow, the ceremonial chains of his robe clinking softly with his subtle trembles. His eyes flicked between the Emperor and the princess, who stood like a radiant statue beside him, visibly uncomfortable. The pressure in the church was suffocating, heavy with tension and imperial authority.
"Y-Your Imperial Majesty… the Chief Priest responsible for imperial weddings is currently away—" the head priest began, his voice quivering under the weight of Zareth's intense gaze.
But Zareth's sharp tongue didn't let him finish.
"Are you saying I can't marry the princess?" Zareth asked, his voice calm—too calm. It was the calm that preceded a storm. His crimson eyes narrowed, and a sliver of a dangerous smile curved his lips. It wasn't a question; it was a warning.
A droplet of sweat slid down the priest's back, soaking into the collar of his robes. This was unheard of! . Completely blasphemous. But who was he to deny the will of the Emperor?
Serenya stood rooted to the spot, heart pounding erratically against her ribs. She could practically feel the poor priest's soul trying to climb out of his body. As much as she pitied him, her own terror consumed her.
"I… preparations will be done immediately, Your Imperial Majesty," the priest stammered, lowering his gaze.
Zareth's lips twitched into a crooked, satisfied smirk. "I thought so."
He didn't wait. His long fingers curled around Serenya's wrist, dragging her behind him like she was nothing more than a feather caught in a storm. The moment they stepped into the inner sanctum of the chapel, her heart slammed against her chest so wildly that she thought she might faint.
"Don't look so worried," Zareth said smoothly, his voice a dark melody. "I promise it'll be quick."
Before she would even pass out , his steps halted and he turned over his shoulder, crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. "Actually… head priest," he drawled lazily, "I think my little dove is far too precious for such a small wedding."
Serenya's breath caught. She sighed in relief but scared it was too soon.
"She deserves the grandest wedding in all of history. The kind that will be sung in the ballads of every empire."
The head priest nearly buckled in relief. "Yes… yes, of course, Your Majesty."
Serenya exhaled. For once, Zareth was showing a hint of reason. Then he added casually, "We'll be praying instead."
Her brows lifted in shock. "You… pray?" she asked, eyes wide.
He gave her a lopsided, arrogant grin before lifting her hand and brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "Don't act so surprised, little dove. My mother believed fervently in God. I only acknowledge one being as greater than myself, and that is the Almighty. Everyone else is beneath me."
Serenya narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing, her heart warming—just slightly—at the mention of his mother.
He tugged her gently toward the altar. "Come. Let us present ourselves before the one being whose approval I might actually care about."
She followed hesitantly, unsure of what to expect. The sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, bathing the altar in a kaleidoscope of sacred colors. Zareth knelt on the crimson-draped steps of the altar with a grace that shocked her.
She stared. "I never thought you were the type to kneel for anyone," she whispered.
Zareth turned his head slightly, his voice low and lazy. "I kneel for no man, Serenya. But for God? I kneel willingly."
He patted the space beside him. "Join me, little dove. Don't let me kneel alone. It's considered disrespectful in some kingdoms."
Rolling her eyes, Serenya knelt beside him, tucking her hands together.
For a moment, silence fell between them, broken only by the flickering candles and the distant chirping of birds outside the ancient windows. It was… peaceful.
Serenya inched slightly away to give herself space to pray, but Zareth wasn't having it. He smoothly closed the distance, his shoulder brushing hers.
"I heard when you pray with the woman you love, the heavens bless your marriage," he whispered.
She chuckled despite herself, the sound soft and genuine. "You twist everything into a romantic conspiracy."
Zareth smirked. "Guilty. But you're still here beside me, aren't you?"
She closed her eyes, her lips moving in a soft, desperate plea. "Oh Lord… please help me escape from here."
When she opened her eyes, she flinched.
Zareth was staring directly at her. Eyes wide open. Amused.
"What did you pray for?" he asked, voice velvety and knowing.
"I don't think you need to hear it."
He chuckled darkly. "I prayed that you'd fall for me. Quickly."
She blushed furiously, rising to her feet in a rush. He stood with ease and took her hand in his own again, leading her silently out of the church.
But then he veered.
Instead of exiting through the main doors, he pulled her through a back corridor that led to a narrow path winding into the woods.
"Where are you taking me?" Serenya asked, her voice uncertain.
He didn't answer.
The trees loomed around them, tall and ancient, casting filtered shadows over their path. The sound of twigs snapping underfoot, birds rustling in the branches, and the gentle hush of wind through leaves filled the air.
Serenya slowed her pace, glancing around nervously. Her heart pounded—not from the surroundings, but from a sudden clarity in her mind.
Maybe this was her chance. Maybe God was giving her this opportunity and she wouldn't let it pass her by .
Zareth let go of her hand, walking a few paces ahead. His silhouette, tall and regal, was framed by shafts of light breaking through the forest canopy.
Serenya stopped.
This was it. She turned sharply without looking behind and bolted.
The soft thud of her slippers against the forest floor echoed in her ears as she ran, pushing past low-hanging branches, her gown catching on brambles. She didn't care. Her breath came in gasps. All she could think about was Vayrana—about escaping. About freedom. Maybe the priest would be able to help or the Emperor wouldn't dare capture her in public where there are a lot of people.
She doesn't want to leave with that crazy Emperor.
Behind her, Zareth stopped walking and sighed looking at the sky . His lips curled into a crooked grin.
A raven flew overhead, letting out a sharp caw. "Oh, my sweet little dove," Zareth murmured, his voice low and amused, "You still think you have a choice."