The royal wedding between Lunaria and Solestra was held on the first full moon after the spring equinox.

Legend said that on this day, the sun and moon would stand directly opposite each other, casting light on either side of the misty mountain range—
As if fate itself had nodded in approval.

Citizens from both realms gathered early.
The streets were lined with silver-petal flowers.
Drums echoed with every heartbeat.
Foreign emissaries wore ceremonial garb from every region:
silver cloaks from the north, golden sashes from the southwest, fur-crowned hats from Eslain—the land where fairies were still taken seriously.

—

The ceremony took place in the Kanelith Valley, on the border of both kingdoms.
A white stone sanctuary stood at its center, glass domes reflecting sunlight into swirls of violet, gold, and seafoam blue that danced across the floor like waves.

Above the altar, the relief of the sun and moon meeting—
a symbol of harmony,
a blessing to a union no one dared question... except the two people about to be married.

—

Joss stood at the altar.

He wore white-gray ceremonial robes, hand-embroidered in pale gold thread.
He didn't smile.
Didn't sigh.

Just... stood. Silent in that perfectly proper, well-rehearsed way that had nothing to do with what a groom should actually feel.

Someone handed him the ritual sequence.
Everything proceeded exactly as planned.

Except for the part where, inside his heart, an image wouldn't leave him alone.

"The ring that slipped..."
"Brown eyes."
"Curved lashes."
"And a hand smaller than mine."

No. Princess Kaween didn't resemble that stranger.

And today's bride... had yet to lift her veil.

—

Just moments before the doors would open—

Gawin sat in the bridal room, a small chamber beside the main sanctuary.
No one was allowed in—custom for royal brides, or in this case: a "princess representing her entire nation, currently hyperventilating under a lace veil."

He was fully dressed.
Veil in place.
The ceremony moments away.

And he still didn't know who he was about to marry.

—

"What if it's someone awful?"
"What if he's just... boring?"
"What if this goes wrong and I ruin not only my life but the peace between two countries?"

Gawin stood up.
He crossed the room to a narrow door that opened to a hallway, just enough to peek into the sanctuary without being seen.

He lifted the veil slightly.
Just enough to see.
Not enough to be caught.

Light from the stained glass bathed the space in colour.

And there he was.

As if nothing had changed.
And yet, everything inside Gawin shifted.

—

Joss.

That posture.
The way he tilted his head when music played.
His shoulders relaxed but never slouched.
His gaze steady without being heavy.

"It's him."

The recognition hit like wind reversing direction, straight into his chest.

Gawin's eyes widened.
His hand nearly dropped the veil.

"It's him.
The one from the masquerade.
The one I ran away from.
The one who still has my ring..."

—

He backed away, heart pounding hard enough to be felt through ten layers of silk and two layers of lining.

"I'm about to marry... my crush?"
"No. Not just a crush.
I'm about to marry the boy I've thought about every night since then.
The one I thought I'd never meet again.
The only one who ever held my hand like that."

—

He dropped into a chair.

Hands on his head, he mumbled:

"Oh gods... help."

"Or don't.
Just... give me five minutes to emotionally recalibrate."

He stood again.
Pulled the veil back into place.

His hands still trembled.
But when the sanctuary doors opened—

The smile beneath the veil was no longer a formality.

It was the smile of someone who just realized:
I'm marrying the person I never had the courage to confess to.

—

The doors opened.

Bells rang.
And Gawin walked in.

The veil fell from the crown to the shoulder.
His cream-gray gown shimmered with silver trim, long sleeves tailored just right—elegant enough not to raise suspicion, loose enough to hide the fact that the wearer didn't really like dresses.

He didn't walk with shy hesitation.
Nor did he rush like someone being forced.

He walked like someone who knew—
he had just entered a play where he was the main character... entirely by accident.

"I'm marrying my crush.
But he doesn't recognize me.
And, well... I just recognized him as my husband.
Incredible."

—

He stood beside Joss.

Didn't dare meet his eyes.
But peeked now and then.

Yes. It was him.

The man from the waltz.
The posture, the jawline, the eyes that always seemed one beat behind the world, thinking before speaking.

Joss.

—

The final trumpet sounded, clear and long—like a storybook breath blown through the cathedral dome.

Gawin clutched the edge of his lace glove.
He could feel every gaze:
the crowd, the nobles, the kings...
and the one standing across the aisle.

Joss didn't stare.
He only nodded once.
His gaze softened—for just one second—then turned back toward the officiant.

—

The wedding followed every ancient tradition.

Vows beneath the sun and moon.
An exchange of symbolic offerings.
Water poured from the twin mountain peaks into a shared silver chalice.

Gawin listened to the priest's words through a fog.
Not hearing every syllable,
But feeling each one land in his chest like a slow, solemn song.

—

"Prince Joss of Solestra.
Before you stands Princess Kaween of Lunaria,
under sacred witness and royal decree.
Do you accept her as your partner—
to honor, listen, and walk with through every season?"

Joss turned.

He looked at Gawin—
This time, a little longer.

Still couldn't see the face.
But the way the bride stood...
The hand clutching fabric...

"I do."

Applause rippled through the hall.

To Gawin, it sounded like fate pressing "enter" on a song he didn't know had started playing.

—

"Princess Kaween of Lunaria.
Before you stands Prince Joss of Solestra,
heir to the crown,
your future partner in rule and roof.

Do you accept him—
to trust, cherish, and walk beside through all seasons?"

Gawin raised his eyes.

Light from the stained glass spilled over Joss's face—
amber and violet glinting like shattered crystal.
So stunning it was unfair.

Even knowing exactly who this was...
Gawin's heart still skipped.

This was the one who had held his hand.
Who had refused a name just to keep a memory.
Who now stood here—
about to marry him,
without knowing who he truly was.

"I do."

—

Three bells rang.
Flower petals fell like soft paper rain.

Everyone stood.
And the couple—

Bowed to each other.

Graceful.
Polite.
Perfect.

And one was completely unaware they were bowing to the same person they once held in moonlight and silence.

—

Joss stepped forward, offering Gawin a formal embrace.

Brief.
Proper.

But that hand—
That same hand—

Gawin had held once,
in a ballroom,
under music and masks.

—

He shivered.
Not from cold.

But because—

It's a strange kind of ache,
marrying the one you've fallen for...
without being allowed to say,

"Do you know?
It was me."

—

It was the most beautiful wedding either kingdom had seen in years.

No one protested.
No one regretted.

Except perhaps—
the two standing there,
hearts walking backward
into a night of moonlight,
where they had touched
without knowing.

—