Deviating from the original plot

3

In the second month of spring—when the air was warm but still gentle—they decided to marry. They chose a quiet, elegant venue by a lake, where the water reflected the pale morning sky. It was meant to be a small, intimate celebration shared only with their families and closest friends.

Celeste’s maids had been helping her since early dawn. Celeste had chosen a breathtaking gown, one that suited her perfectly. The dress was flowing, made of light ivory fabric that shimmered whenever she moved. Tiny pearl beads were sewn along the bodice, catching the light like dew on petals. The sleeves draped off her shoulders in delicate folds, and the skirt fell in smooth layers that made her look like she was floating.

Just as the final touches were being made, the door creaked open.

Her mother stepped inside.

She paused for a moment, struck speechless at the sight of her daughter. Then her expression softened, full of pride, nostalgia, and the faintest glimmer of tears.

“My darling,” she whispered, her voice already thick with pride. “You look more beautiful than I ever imagined.”

Celeste turned toward her, her heart picking up.
“Mother!”

Her mother stepped closer, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “I am so proud of you,” she murmured, voice thick with emotion.

Celeste’s lips curled into a soft, almost timid smile as her mother gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, Mother… but I don’t know,” Celeste admitted quietly. “I’m a little nervous.”

Her mother took both her hands, warm and steady.
“It’s perfectly normal to feel nervous—this is a big moment,” she reassured her. “What matters most is that you’re certain about the choice you’re making.”

“I’m certain,” Celeste said, firmer this time.

Her mother’s smile softened, tinged with wistfulness. “And I’m certain you and Victoria were meant for each other.”

“Thanks, Mother,” Celeste replied, her voice gentle.

Her mother sighed, a hint of longing in her eyes. “I just wish I had been half as bold as you… maybe then I would have pursued my own happiness, despite my fears.”

Celeste reached out, taking her mother’s hands in hers. “It’s never too late, you know,” she said softly. “You can still find joy, still be happy.”

Her mother’s eyes glistened, a small, hopeful smile forming. “Perhaps you’re right… seeing you today gives me courage.”

Celeste squeezed her hands reassuringly. “Then promise me you won’t hold back, Mother. Life is too short for regrets.”

Her mother chuckled lightly, a warmth returning to her gaze. “I promise, my dear. I will try.”

Meanwhile, in Victoria’s dressing room, she crouched beside her father, gently holding his hands. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and his voice wavered as he spoke.

“Victoria… please, don’t look at me like that,” she said softly.

“I can’t help it,” he replied, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “My little girl… all grown up now. I still remember when I used to burp you after meals. You were so tiny…”

Victoria smiled, a soft warmth spreading through her chest. “I’ve grown, yes—but I’ll always be your daughter, Father.”

He chuckled through his tears, squeezing her hands. “I suppose some things never change. I just… I just want you to be happy, Victoria. Truly happy.”