The Wings of the Beautifully Fallen

Chapter 24: Reginald

"My question is why not slip her a truth potion?" One of the others questioned, his light brown hair curling in small curls around the top giving his hair the look of a cushion surrounding his head.

"Well, Prince Paul, some of us, even the unmarried ones, realize that is very horrible idea." My brother interrupted, defeat filling his voice and I turned to look at him, wondering why it was there. Was it because he had thought of it before and had it shot down, which is something far more believable than him realizing it now that it was a bad idea.

"I will be sure to tell your wife, Eva, that you approve of the use of a truth potion on a woman whose only crime is being terrified of marriage." King Dimitri grumbled, his eyes turning to stare at his son, a challenge dancing in his eyes. King Dimitri only had two sons so it was clear that he and his wife had grown fond of their daughter-in-law and will do anything to protect her as well harassing their son.

"That is not at all what I mean!" Paul was flustered, his cheeks heating and turning a bright shade of red as his eyes shifted between one to another, hoping that one of us will attempt to come to his rescue.

Not that any of us would. The use of a truth potion must be in instances of security to the kingdom. To use it on Illiana in a situation like this, to force her to talk to me and tell me what is wrong, she will end up the one who is hurting the most. I cannot make her tell me in case it is, in fact, something traumatic. That will destroy any chance that either of us have at any form of a good marriage.

"So any plans on attempting to figure out what she is so afraid of?" Prince Ethan demanded and I tensed when I saw the relief in his eyes. He was glad that he did not have to deal with this, that he did not have to fight against the clock and a woman who has a fear with no reason. Maybe he is right to feel relieved. The pain that one would have to suffer if they fell in love and ended up losing her was to great. Then there was the disgrace.

Not that it really bothered me, not for me at least. I do not care if others look at me as some incompetent fool who would not bed his wife and lost her because of it. No, that I could live with. I could not live with the idea of knowing that I had fallen for a woman who did not love me, that she would return to a place that she feared and never really understanding why. That was what would destroy me inside.

"Well, my son, this is still going to happen." Father's voice was filled with frustration, his arms crossing in front of his chest. "We need to head down now, the guests should be ready and Princess Illiana should be down soon."

"Think about it this way, Reginald, if Mother had a say in the dress, Princess Illiana will sure be pretty in it!" My brother laughed before darting out of the room and I shook my head.

Even if she was beautiful, breathtaking, that would not change her feelings inside. She would be terrified and I could only imagine how much she must hate me right now. This needed to work, but not even I knew how it could with everything set against me.

*

"Do you think she is holding the wedding up by herself or is something else going on?" Samuel hissed in my ear and I turned around and glared at my brother who shrugged in response. With my head shaking in frustration, my gaze turned back towards the crowd, my eyes scanning it, looking for them. Her family.

But they were not here. What father would not want to be there to watch their eldest daughter get married, to verbally give her away in front of others to show his blessing on the marriage? Did he really not want to do something so loving for Illiana? To help quell her fears?

"About time." My brother's voice interrupted my thoughts and I turned to look at him only to have my gaze focused on her.

Beautiful could not cover what she really looked like. The gown hugged her tightly around the chest and the abdomen as if it was caressing her skin. The bottom of it flared around her, trailing behind her as she walked down the aisle alone. A heavily embroidered veil, the pattern matching that of the dress, covered her face, leaving small spots where one could see inside. A small bouquet of flowers was held in her hands, grasped firmly and held level with her waist. Overall, it was simple and elegant and, above all, perfect.