Spring was approaching quietly in the capital, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of budding flowers and fresh herbs through the open windows of the Imperial School of Mor. The weeks had passed, and Mero had gradually regained his focus on his studies, but one morning, Leila, his faithful housekeeper, entered his room with a discreet smile that betrayed a deep joy. "The wedding is set for three weeks from now," she announced, her voice calm yet vibrant, on the cusp of spring. This tradition of Sel, marking the balance between shadow and light, resonated like a perfect choice for a union, and Mero felt a soft warmth spread through him as he saw Leila illuminated in this way.
The gift he had prepared for Leila and Master Antonin already rested on a shelf, carefully arranged in a wooden box carved with marine motifs, ready for several days. Master Antonin, however, remained an absent figure. Since his arrival at the school, Mero had not crossed paths with him, a severe and enigmatic figure whose silence weighed like a mystery. Was he held back by imperial affairs, or did he prefer to let Mero grow on his own? It mattered little—Mero knew he would reappear at the right moment, faithful to his habit. For now, he simply nodded to Leila, satisfied with seeing her happy.
The atmosphere around Leila transformed as the cusp approached. She continued to direct Mero's servants with rigor—straightening his clothes with care, overseeing his study affairs—but a new softness opened her gestures. Her hands, once swift and precise, now sometimes lingered on a crease, and a new light shone in her gray eyes. She was happy, radiant with a contained joy, and this touched Mero more than he could admit. Leila, who had watched over him like a discreet mother since his childhood in Sel, deserved this happiness, and he wanted to ensure their day remained theirs. As for the gift, he had designed it to be a discreet surprise—a present that would speak to their hearts without drawing attention to itself, a prince who preferred shadow to light on this day.
The long-awaited day arrived, bathed in the golden light of the spring equinox. The capital seemed suspended in a perfect balance, the sun and shadow dancing above the stone rooftops. The preparations for Leila and Master Antonin's wedding adorned the school with a joyous and solemn energy, infusing every corner with excitement. Mero, as prince and Leila's master, had ensured that everything was ready, delegating the details to the servants while making sure his gift—a discreet yet precious box—was placed among the presents, ready to be opened at the right moment.
He prepared in his room, carefully donning his princely attire with meticulous attention. The white suit, adorned with finely woven golden threads, shimmered under the sunlight, capturing the light like a wave under the sun. The marine motifs embroidered on the edges—intertwined golden threads—sparkled softly, a tribute to Sel and its heritage. The high collar and sober pleats of the pants exuded dignity, while a golden brooch, adorned with a black pearl inherited from his lineage, perfected the ensemble. A subtle scent of precious woods and light flowers floated around him, a fragrance he had chosen for the occasion, adding a touch of solemnity to his presence. He looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting his appearance one last time, conscious that this day was not his, but that he would carry the weight of his rank with discreet grace.
"Let's go," he murmured to his reflection, a fleeting smile crossing his lips. "The bride and groom await." He left his room, his steps echoing on the polished parquet floor, and joined the gathering crowd in the grand reception hall, transformed for the occasion into a shrine of celebration.
The ceremony began in splendor, under the soft light of the equinox, a sacred moment for Sel. The gentle sunlight filtered through the high windows of the hall, bathing the guests in a warm and reverent atmosphere. The place was decorated with elegant sobriety: white lilies, red roses, and peonies with delicate petals arranged in stone vases, their vivid colors contrasting with the coldness of the walls. Tapestries woven with ancient motifs covered the floor, and crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling cast a golden light that danced on the faces of the attendees.
The guests took their seats on somber wooden benches, their refined attire—silk gowns, deep velvets—adding a mosaic of colors to the scene. Mero stood near the entrance, slightly set back, his white and golden attire distinguishing him without putting him too much in the forefront. All eyes turned towards the altar, where Leila awaited, radiant in a white satin gown adorned with golden threads and fine pearls. Her gray hair, carefully styled, was adorned with lily flowers, a touch of freshness that softened her stern silhouette. She stood upright, her hands joined before her, her calm gaze betraying a contained emotion.
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Master Antonin appeared then, advancing with measured assurance towards the altar. His deep blue suit, adorned with silver embroidery, exuded stature without eclipsing Leila's presence. His eyes, ordinarily piercing and severe, softened as they rested on her, an affectionate light illuminating his face marked by the years. Beside them, an imperial priest began the ceremony, his voice resonating in an ancient and solemn language, his sacred words sealing the union under the auspices of the equinox.
The moment of the vows arrived, filled with palpable emotion. Leila spoke first, her eyes shining with held-back tears. "Antonin," she said, her voice trembling yet firm, "you are my strength and my peace. I promise to love and support you, through every trial, until the wind carries us away." Antonin took her hands, his calloused fingers enveloping hers with a rare tenderness. "Leila," he replied, his grave voice resonating in the hall, "you are my refuge and my light. I offer you my endless love, my gratitude for each day by your side, and my vow to cherish you always." The rings slid onto their fingers, simple yet grave symbols of intertwined motifs, and the priest blessed their union, raising his hands towards the sky as if to invoke the balance of the equinox.
A warm applause echoed, and the newlyweds sealed their vows with a tender kiss, soft as a spring breeze. Mero felt a soft warmth spread through him, a mix of joy and pride for these two figures who had guided him, each in their own way, through the tumults of his youth.
The banquet followed in the grand ballroom, transformed into a shrine of magnificence. Rich fabrics—deep blue velvet, sober cream—draped the walls, and chandeliers cast a dancing light on the long tables adorned with white nappes. Bouquets of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, and peonies—ornamented each center, their sweet scents mingling with the aromas of the dishes circulating among the guests. Roasted game, golden and juicy, contrasted with delicate fish from the coasts of Sel, resting on beds of aromatic herbs, while rare delicacies, fished from the distant shores, lay on silver platters. Delicate pastries—tartlets drizzled with honey, cakes with almonds—crowned the sides of carved wooden platters, a tribute to the renowned vineyards of the Empire.
The guests settled in, their joyous murmurs rising in the air, accompanied by the soft music of a string quartet playing in the background. Servants in impeccable livery, directed by an absent yet omnipresent Leila in their discipline, moved between the tables, offering food and drinks with silent grace. Each place setting bore a small personal touch—a card of thanks handwritten by Leila, a wooden figurine symbolizing love, or a bottle of rare wine in a delicate flask.
The speeches followed the dinner, each orator—friends, colleagues, dignitaries of Sel—taking the floor to celebrate Leila and Antonin. Their words, filled with respect and affection, painted the portrait of a solid couple, united by years of trust and trials overcome. Mero listened in silence, his gaze passing from the newlyweds to the guests, a discreet pride shining in his eyes.
Then came the moment of the gifts. The newlyweds received magnificent presents—golden jewelry set with diamonds, precious vases from the eastern lands, ancient books offered by scholars—but also more intimate offerings: a hand-carved wooden box, a calligraphed letter, a wooden sculpture reminiscent of their first encounter. Mero, with royal discretion, stepped forward as the presents accumulated before Leila and Antonin. He placed his box among the others, a fleeting smile on his lips, and stepped back into the shadows, letting the servants present it at the chosen moment.
When Leila opened the box, a admiring silence settled. Inside lay a piece of exquisite jewelry—a pendant in silver, its waves entwined symbolizing the coasts of Sel, adorned with two rare stones: a deep blue topaz representing the sea, and a golden amber symbolizing the resilience of their union. The stones shimmered under the chandelier light, a symbol of unity and resilience in the face of life's storms. Leila brought a hand to her mouth, her gray eyes filling with tears, while Antonin placed a hand on her shoulder, a tender smile softening his severe features.
"It's magnificent," Leila murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, "and so... perfect for us." Antonin nodded, his fingers brushing the pendant with rare tenderness. "Thank you, Mero," he said, his grave voice resonating in the hall. "You have seen who we are." The guests applauded softly, a murmur of admiration sweeping through the crowd, but Mero simply lowered his eyes, satisfied to remain in the background.
The evening stretched on under the soft lights of the dance and laughter. Leila and Antonin opened the ball, their graceful steps sealing their union in a slow waltz, followed by the guests whose robes and costumes swirled in a mosaic of colors. The music filled the air, a soft yet vibrant melody, and the laughter resonated like gentle waves on a peaceful shore.
As the night gently faded, the chandeliers extinguishing one by one, Mero stepped away towards an open window, letting the fresh spring air caress his face. The love and conviviality remained palpable in the air, a warmth that touched him beyond words. For Leila and Antonin, it was a new stage; for him, a reminder of the friendship and bonds that united those who had guided him. He placed a hand on the cold stone of the windowsill, his gaze lost in the budding stars, and murmured to himself: "May your happiness last forever." Spring was blossoming, and with it, a promise of unity that would resonate long in his heart.
