An Early Engagement - Chapter 61

After exchanging a brief smile with Shirley, Terban left the waiting room.

Shirley watched him go, then glanced at Melissa—who stubbornly refused to look in Terban’s direction until he was completely gone.

What on earth happened between them?

She couldn’t even begin to guess, but the mere mention of it made Melissa’s expression turn terrifying. Shirley had long since given up asking.

“Leave it be. It’s between them.”

She swallowed her curiosity, remembering Damian’s advice. Let them figure it out—just like we did.

“Miss, the ceremony is about to start.”

Sophie’s voice snapped her back to the present. Shirley nodded.

—

“Shirley, you okay?”

“Huh?”

She blinked rapidly, disoriented. Had she dozed off? Unbelievably, she had—right in the middle of the crowded hall. Thankfully, her wedding veil hid her lapse.

“Hold my arm tight.”

At Damian’s whisper, she clung to him. Right now, nothing felt more reassuring than his steady presence.

Exhaustion from days of stress and last night’s sleeplessness kept dragging her under. Her back ached, her feet throbbed—everything hurt.

All she wanted was to collapse into bed and have Damian massage the soreness away. But the officiant’s speech showed no sign of ending.

—

“Do you think he’ll ever stop talking?” she mumbled under her breath.

Damian’s lips twitched. “If he doesn’t, I’ll carry you out right now.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Just then—

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Finally.

Damian lifted her veil, his eyes dark with something far more awake than exhaustion.

“Took long enough,” he murmured before kissing her—thoroughly.

The guests erupted into applause.

Shirley, now wide awake, could only think one thing:

…I’m never getting that massage, am I?

“And so, before God, these two are now joined as husband and wife.”

The moment the words were spoken, the drowsiness clinging to Shirley’s eyelids vanished.

“The groom may now kiss the bride.”

Slowly, she turned to face Damian. Through the haze of her veil, his features blurred faintly—until he lifted it, and his face came into sharp focus. The soft smile playing on his lips sent her heart racing.

Swoosh.

As the veil was drawn back, their eyes met. Her reflection stared back at her from the depths of Damian’s blue gaze.

Then, gradually, his face drew closer—until their lips met. What began as a shy, chaste kiss quickly deepened, fueled by the cheers of their guests.

—

“Shirley, throw it this way!”

“No way—I’m catching it!”

“Ugh, all of you, quit it!”

True to their reputation as the Empire’s most beloved couple, the competition for Shirley’s bouquet was fierce.

Amy, Shirley’s friends, and every marriageable young lady in attendance had their eyes locked on the bouquet like wolves eyeing prey.

But Shirley just wanted it over with.

Whoosh.

The bouquet arced through the air, bouncing off several outstretched hands—before finally landing in the grasp of one very surprised recipient.

“……”

The winner blinked down at the flowers in her hands, utterly bewildered.

“Melissa?”

It was none other than Melissa herself. A strange expression—somewhere between delight and horror—flickered across her face.

Then—

“Oh, hell no.”

She chucked the bouquet straight at Terban’s chest.

Silence.

Then uproarious laughter.

Shirley, clinging to Damian’s arm, sighed.

“Can we go home now?”

Damian smirked. “Your wish is my command, Mrs. Elpart.”

And with that, he swept her off her feet—literally—carrying her past the cheering crowd, straight toward their future.

The bouquet slipped from Melissa’s fingers, tumbling to the floor with a soft rustle of petals. A strange expression flickered across her face – something between surprise and dismay – before she quickly masked it with her usual playful smirk.

“Looks like I’ll have to pass this honor to someone else,” she quipped, nudging the bouquet away with the tip of her shoe. The crowd erupted in laughter and good-natured groans.

Shirley barely noticed. Her attention had already returned to Damian, whose fingers were tracing idle patterns along her wrist.

“Today, I want all your attention focused solely on your beautiful bride,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her ring finger. The platinum band gleamed under the chandelier lights.

The transition from the boisterous reception hall to the quiet bridal suite felt surreal.

This would be their home now. The place they’d share as husband and wife. Though she’d visited countless times as a child and even napped in these rooms, standing here as the new Duchess made everything feel foreign and new.

The silk nightgown slithered against her skin like liquid moonlight, so sheer that the slightest touch might send it pooling at her feet. Shirley’s cheeks burned.

Tonight wouldn’t be their first time, but…

A wedding night carried different weight. Different promises.

Where was Damian?

Her restless heart drove her from the bed to pace the chamber. What had once been Damian’s austere quarters had been transformed into a sprawling marital suite, walls knocked through to connect adjoining rooms. Every detail – from the floral-embroidered cushions to the gauzy canopy draping the bed – reflected her tastes.

Her fingertips trailed over a carved rosewood vanity. Even the slightly childish, overly girlish touches she’d insisted on had met no resistance from Damian. The realization warmed her more than any champagne.

A sound at the door – the turn of a key – and suddenly the air changed.

“Admiring your domain, Duchess?”

Damian leaned against the doorframe, cravat undone, his gaze dark as it traveled the length of her. The possessive edge to his smile sent shivers down her spine.

Shirley lifted her chin. “Just ensuring my husband kept his promise about the peony wallpaper.”

He crossed the room in three strides. “I keep all my promises,” he murmured, catching the silk tie of her gown between his fingers. “Starting with this one.”

The gown whispered to the floor as outside, fireworks burst over the Elpart estate – gold and silver against the midnight sky. Their first night as husband and wife had only just begun.