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As the doors opened, revealing Eloise in her bridal splendor, Bernard's nerves unraveled in an instant. A smile, unbidden and radiant, spread across his features. He watched her, eyes alight with the mirth that was shared between them in quieter moments.
"Look at Bernard," someone whispered from the pews, "he looks like he's won the kingdom's largest treasure."
"Indeed," another replied, "and he has."
Eloise approached, her gaze locked with his, a silent conversation of shared secrets passing between them. As they stood together at the altar, the world outside the stained glass and stone walls fell away.
"Your Royal Highnesses," intoned the archbishop, his voice echoing through the vaulted church. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of two devoted hearts..."
"Bernard," Eloise began when it was her turn, her voice clear as a bell, "I vow to be your partner in all things—not just as a princess, but as your friend, your confidante, and your greatest ally. I promise to cherish our laughter, to seek joy in our journey, and to share pastries with you in bed, even if crumbs become our nightly companions."
A titter of amusement rippled through the guests, and Bernard’s chest swelled with warmth. He adored her wit, the way her humor glinted like the diamond tiara upon her brow.
"And I," Bernard returned, his tone steady and sincere, "vow to honor and respect you, Eloise. To support not just your duties, but your dreams. To keep pace on morning rides, to listen with intent when the world feels heavy, and to sneak those extra pastries onto your plate when you think no one is looking."
Laughter echoed again, this time accompanied by a few sentimental sighs from the assembly. The archbishop smiled benevolently, the ceremonial book in his hands almost superfluous to the genuine pledges they exchanged.
"By the power vested in me," he pronounced, once the vows were solemnly spoken and rings tenderly exchanged, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
And as Bernard lifted Eloise's veil, the look they shared carried the promise of every dawn to come—bright, hopeful, and filled with the sweet anticipation of shared tomorrows.
The bells of St. Michael's Cathedral pealed with jubilant fervor, their resonant chimes heralding the union just forged within its ancient walls. Princess Eloise emerged beside her new husband, Prince Bernard, their hands clasping as they descended the church steps. Their exit was swift, a shared eagerness propelling them forward, while petals cascaded from above, showered by the hands of well-wishers.
"Kiss! Kiss!" The crowd's chant swelled into an insistent harmony, a playful demand for the newlyweds to seal their nuptials before all.
Bernard turned to Eloise and without a moment’s hesitation, he obliged the people, drawing her close. Their lips met in a tender, yet exuberant display, eliciting cheers that echoed through the capital's main thoroughfare.
As the couple broke away, their laughter mingled with the joyous uproar, they made their way to the awaiting carriage. The horse-drawn conveyance, resplendent with white roses and ribbons, stood ready to escort them to the next chapter of the celebration. Eloise waved to the people lining the streets, her heart brimming with gratitude for the sea of faces that blurred past.
Within the grand ballroom of the palace, chandeliers cast a golden glow over the opulent scene. King Phillip and Queen Rachel stood regally among the assembly, their presence commanding yet warm, as they welcomed guests with practiced grace. The laughter of Eloise's brothers punctuated the air, their wives' elegant gowns swishing softly as they moved through the throng of nobility.
Queen Beatrice, the epitome of poise, greeted dignitaries with a serene smile, her eyes occasionally seeking out her daughter amidst the revelry.
Eloise, ever the embodiment of her lineage, navigated the reception with a diplomat’s ease, her hand still firmly held by Bernard, whose own face betrayed the pride of a man who had won the heart of not just a princess, but the people she cherished. Together, they floated through their first hours as husband and wife, their laughter the truest testament to the love they celebrated that day.
"May I steal you for a dance, my wife?" Bernard whispered, leaning close enough for his breath to tease the wisps of hair by her ear.
"Only if you promise not to step on my toes," Eloise teased back.
"Never," he assured her with a grin, leading her toward the dance floor where they would soon sway as one, under the watchful gaze of the kingdom.
Bernard extended his hand with a flourish, drawing Eloise into the center of the grand ballroom. The orchestra dipped into the opening bars of a waltz. She placed her hand in his, and they stepped into the dance.
Laughter bubbled up from her throat. The couples encircling them faded into a blur of colors and lights, leaving Eloise acutely aware of the man whose eyes never wavered from hers.
As the final note resonated through the hall, applause cascaded around them, but Eloise could only see Bernard.
"Shall we mingle?" she suggested, still buoyant from their dance.
"Lead the way, my princess" Bernard replied, his use of the title both a jest and a promise of what was to come.
They navigated the sea of guests, their hands clasped, a silent symbol of solidarity. They paused to exchange pleasantries with someone from Allenia, whose mustache twitched with delight as he recounted tales of statecraft that seemed to have originated in another age.
"Your wisdom is truly unparalleled, Duke Gregory," Eloise complimented, her tone genuine even as she suppressed a smile at Bernard's subtle eye-roll—his patience for long-winded anecdotes being as short as ever.
"Princess Eloise, your graciousness knows no bounds," the duke responded, bowing so low his nose nearly brushed his medal-adorned chest.
"Come now, uncle," Bernard chimed in, his charm seamless as he steered the conversation away from politics, "tell us about the roses in your garden this year. I hear they're quite extraordinary."
