The thought of her smiling through the veil as she walked down the aisle made my stomach churn. I had spent countless hours serving my country, holding the hands of those who’d sacrificed everything, but today? Today, I was nothing but an invisible link in a chain of high society.
It was quiet in my apartment, almost too quiet, and I turned off the television, hoping to drown out the cacophony of envy and sadness. I had to focus on my work, on the Navy, on the strength of my service. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through messages from teammates, catching up on mundane reports and missions. Normalcy felt good.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being haunted by this wedding—by Rachel’s erasure of me. And as I settled into my day, her face appeared at the back of my mind, an image carved in ice, perfectly elegant and utterly untouchable.
Later in the afternoon, without thinking, I grabbed my duffel bag, hoping to escape the whispers of life outside my walls and bury myself in a training session. But just as I swung the door open, I froze. The street was alive with movement, and outside my front door stood an unmistakable sight—six royal guards, crisp and commanding in their uniforms, like sentinels from a fairy tale.
The sun glinted off their polished boots, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. They were not just guards; they were royal guards. The air seemed to shift, the birds stopped chirping, and every sound faded away. Curtains fluttered nervously in the windows of neighboring homes as if my little townhouse had suddenly become a scene from a movie. I took a step back, and they took a step forward, their expressions all business, but I could feel the collective gaze of my neighbors weighing heavy on my shoulders.
“Commander Emily Carter?”
I tightened my grip on the door, my heart racing. “Yes?”
The tallest guard stepped forward, and his voice rang with a formality that sent a shiver down my spine. “His Majesty requests your presence at once.”
His Majesty? My sister’s wedding was happening right this moment. I had not received an invitation, had not been asked to stand beside her, had not even been told where the ceremony would be broadcast. And now, this? I felt a rush of confusion as I stood there in disbelief.
