Chapter 99 — Her Fiancé?
Rolling through the asphalted road, the golden coloured carriage came to a stop. The horseman rushed to open the door for Cynthia while Lucian swung the door open. He then walked before the young lady who was still sitting on her seat and extended his hand.
Taking his hand, Cynthia stepped out of the carriage.
"Have a pleasant day, Your Highness," the coachman bowed, as he watched the couple head towards the temple.
The temple was painted white as if covered by snow. It had large silver curved iron columns surrounding the pillars. Statues of the gods were carved before the building, along with a spring from which water kept flowing through.
It has been a while since I last saw this temple...
Cynthia mused quietly, her gaze drifting over the temple grounds stretched before her. She hadn’t set foot here since her parents’ funeral. Not even her own wedding had drawn her back to this place—she’d chosen a small, unassuming temple instead, avoiding this one with its fervent devotion to the gods. The memories lingered too strongly here, and the thought of returning had felt too burdensome.
Her brothers, too, had been absent, preoccupied with war. They hadn’t had the time to make the long journey to this temple, set apart from the main palaces. It was a sole luxurious building in a secluded area, with only a handful of small shops and scattered houses nearby. The roads were narrow and most of the streets needed to be rebuilt.
I wonder why he wanted his wedding to take place here. It’s a royal wedding, after all.
"Do you intend to keep holding my hand?" Lucian softly whispered, leaning close to her ear, making sure no one would be able to hear him.
Cynthia simply tightened her grip around his hand, letting that be her answer. This was the moment she had been waiting for, a chance to show everyone they were a united, devoted couple. She couldn’t afford to let anyone glimpse the cold distance that lay between her and her husband. No—she had to show them that they were as flawless, as inseparable, as any couple could be.
Lucian flinched, his hand tensing in hers for a moment, taken aback by the unexpected firmness of her grip. He had anticipated a composed, almost indifferent reaction, not this unyielding show of resolve. A soft chuckle escaped him, tinged with surprise. Perhaps he was beginning to understand her, just a little. She cared more about appearances than she let on, more about what others thought of her than he’d assumed. She was determined to present herself as the perfect wife, flawless in the eyes of those watching—himself included, it seemed. But he couldn’t fathom why. She had everything she could need: the love of her family, a secure place within her household even after her parents’ passing, the unwavering respect of the servants. So, what drove her to this constant need to prove herself?