Rosalie turned back to Jalice, not looking at Valor when he spoke, thanking her for healing him. She muttered something under her breath that might have been akin to a ‘no problem’ or ‘you’re welcome,’ but could have just as easily been ‘shut up,” or something along those lines. Even to the ears of a vampire it was unclear, and she apparently had no intention of repeating it.<br/><br/>Usually she might have insisted that she was fine and didn’t need help, but when Jalice suggested she could not walk on it, she simply nodded. She wouldn’t argue with a reason to let him hold her one more time. “Thank you,” she said, her voice softer now that Valor was gone. She leaned against his chest, enjoying the feeling of his arms, savoring it.<br/><br/>He had not moved to head back yet, despite the need to get back before the wedding started, but she wouldn’t complain. She would have been happy to stay this way forever. When he lowered his head to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, she put her hand on his cheek, kissing him back with the same passion, wishing it would never end.<br/><br/>It was over far too soon, though, and his scarlet eyes looked so hopeless as they gazed at her. She hated to see him look so hopeless, and she hated that she felt the same way, that her own eyes mirrored that same hopelessness. “I know,” she told him, stroking his cheek gently. She wanted to be selfish and just run away, but he was right. It would be a disaster for both of them. “It isn’t your fault,” she told him, although she admittedly harbored some anger towards those she did hold responsible. For the moment, though, there was little either of them could do about it.<br/><br/>She was quiet the rest of the way back, and when he had dropped her off in her room, she had almost called out after him. It was almost like a piece of her left with him, like he’d taken her heart with him when he’d left. She punched the pillows on the bed over and over, wanting to scream and cry, or to smash something to relieve some of this pent up frustration, but at the risk of earning the ire of the House of Cards, she restrained herself.<br/><br/>She punched the pillows, screaming into them to muffle the sound, until her anger has dissipated into sadness. Without that anger to keep up her tough exterior, she withered into what felt like a weeping mess. She laid there on the bed for as long as she could before she got up and got ready to attend the wedding, to watch the man she loved marry someone else.<br/><br/>She felt her anger growing again as she thought about the human princess he was to marry. Who was<span style="font-style: italic">she</span>to take him away? Why she<span style="font-style: italic">she</span>get to have what Rosalie could not? It wasn’t fair! Perhaps it wasn’t the princess’s fault; perhaps she was a victim as much as any of them. She would not entertain such thoughts, though. She needed the anger to keep her going. She needed a focus for her ire, and this human girl was the perfect target.<br/><br/>She latched onto this anger as she headed to the black chapel. She found a seat near the back and waited impatiently. She found it hard to sit here, to sit still and just watch, but the reality was that making a scene would only make things harder on both of them, so she restrained herself. Seeing Jalice standing up there, wearing the outfit he was meant to wear for<span style="font-style: italic">their</span>wedding, she felt a pain stabbing at her heart.<br/><br/>She paid little mind to whatever nonsense came out of Valor’s mouth as he spoke, her eyes focused on Jalice. When his eyes met hers, she felt the pain intensify, almost becoming unbearable. Her eyes stung, but she held back any tears, and even though she wanted to run, she rooted herself in place, intent on seeing this through to the end, no matter how painful it might be.<br/><br/>-<br/><br/>As Aria stood outside the chapel, servants fussing over her to make sure every last detail was perfect, she felt completely and utterly empty. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so cold before, nor so lonely, even surrounded by so many people. The time since they had arrived had been a bit of a blur, going by even more quickly than she had imagined.<br/><br/>Now, she was just moments from walking through these doors, vowing her “undying love” for a prince she’d never even seen, in front of hundreds of people. It was a momentous occasion, to be sure; the marriage would solidify a treaty between humans and vampires, something that had once seemed like a fool’s dreams. She should have been happy to see this dream of hers become a reality, and maybe some part of her was, but that part of her was far overruled by all the parts that screamed at her not to do this, screamed that it was unfair and wondered why it had to be her.<br/><br/>As she stood there, she could hear a voice beyond the doors speaking, and initially she hadn’t paid much attention to it, having been lost in her own thoughts. Now that she was focusing, preparing for the fast-approaching moment when those doors would swing open, she thought she recognized the voice. But that couldn’t be right. It was probably just her imagination playing tricks on her, reminding her of the one she could not have.<br/><br/>Soon the voice stopped, replaced by applause that slowly faded into a moment of silence. She felt her heart beat faster, knowing that the moment had come. She took a deep breath in and composed herself as the thunderous sound of the organ filled the chapel. The door swung open and she took one more unsteady breath, swallowing back her nerves and putting on that practiced mask of calm and a soft smile that would fool anyone who didn’t know better.<br/><br/>As she slowly stepped into the chapel, the picture of elegance and grace, she could feel all eyes on her; it was a feeling that some might find uncomfortable, but one that she had grown accustomed to. She usually didn’t allow the servants to doll her up, and she didn’t particularly enjoy it, but today she had not been given a choice. Her white hair was beautifully done, a tiara and veil donned atop her head. She wore make-up at the queen’s insistence, but had talked them into applying it lightly, to highlight her natural beauty instead of covering it up. Lastly, she wore a long, elegant white dress that suited her perfectly—at least if you asked any of the women who had helped her into it.<br/><br/>Her eyes were focused ahead, as she was told they ought to be, but she took in the rest of the room with her peripherals. Her gaze fell first on the prince who stood at the alter; he looked to be about her age, with hair as white as her own, and notable scarlet eyes. Her gaze then shifted slightly to the man behind the organ and she was forced to face the reality that the voice she had heard had, in fact, not been a figment of her imagination.<br/><br/>She had to fight to keep her face from showing her surprise, or the overwhelming sadness that followed the realization that Valor, the man she had spent the last three weeks with, the man to whom she had said goodbye to the night before thinking that she might not see him again, the man who she had allowed herself to fall for was, in fact, the prince’s brother. This realization weighted heavily on her and suddenly it felt like her feet were made of bricks, and every step forward felt heavy and difficult. She wanted nothing more than to turn around right then and run out of the chapel.<br/><br/>Despite the feelings that crashed over her, she continued forward, apparently unfazed—although if one were astute, they might have noticed the subtle change in the light in her eyes. She took each heavy step forward, swallowing the lump in her throat, until she had finally reached the alter and came to a stop. She handed off the bouquet of flowers she’d been carrying and turned to face Jalice, the prince who would soon be her husband, trying her hardest to fight the urge to shift her gaze beyond him, to the man seated at the organ. If she looked at him now, she wasn’t sure she could focus on anything but the many questions and emotions that seeing his face had brought. She was barely suppressing them now, holding them back only with sheer willpower, but she knew that her will would likely falter if she met his gaze, and if she had to face him, it would break.