Married To Darkness
Chapter 285: Preparing For The Grand Day 4

Chapter 285: Preparing For The Grand Day 4

Meanwhile,

The soft glow of morning sunlight filtered through the ornate, lace-draped windows of Princess Florence’s chamber.

The faint scent of blooming jasmine lingered in the air, a subtle hint of spring seeping into the regal quarters.

Florence sat delicately on the edge of her chaise, her hand resting lightly on her growing belly.

Her golden hair, a cascade of shimmering silk, glinted in the light as her husband, the Fifth Prince Lucas, hovered near her with an expression of tender concern.

"Are you sure you’ll be comfortable today?" Lucas asked, his deep blue eyes scanning her face intently.

His golden locks fell handsomely over his forehead, giving him an almost angelic air that never failed to make her heart flutter.

He adjusted the cuff of his embroidered tunic absentmindedly, but his full attention was on her.

"I’ll be fine," Florence assured him, her tone as light as the morning breeze.

Her soft blue gown, chosen to emphasize comfort over courtly extravagance, draped over her frame elegantly.

But despite her confident words, she fidgeted slightly, glancing toward the open wardrobe where several gowns were displayed.

Lucas followed her gaze and raised an eyebrow. "If you’re still deciding, I can have them bring out more options," he teased gently, though his voice carried genuine concern. "I just want you to feel your best."

Florence smiled, her fingers smoothing over the fabric of her dress. "You know I don’t need all that pomp and fuss. Besides, the simpler I look, the less chance anyone will feel the need to outshine me."

Lucas chuckled softly, stepping closer.

His fingers brushed a stray curl away from her face, his touch lingering for a moment. "You don’t need jewels or grand dresses for that, Florence. You outshine them all just as you are."

A warm blush crept over her cheeks, and she glanced away, hiding her shy smile. "You always say such things. If you’re not careful, Lucas, I’ll start believing you."

"You should," he replied smoothly, kneeling in front of her so they were eye level.

His hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "But you must promise me one thing."

She tilted her head, a curious smile playing on her lips. "What is it now?"

"Eat breakfast," Lucas said firmly, his tone taking on the authoritative edge he rarely used. "You know these celebrations can’t be trusted with food. Too many nobles vying for attention, and half the dishes are too fancy to even enjoy. You’ll be miserable if you go on an empty stomach."

Florence laughed softly, shaking her head. "You sound like a mother hen, Lucas."

"I’ll take that as a compliment," he replied, standing and pulling her gently to her feet. "Because I’m serious. You need to eat before we leave. The rain may hold off, but I can’t say the same for your mood if you’re starving halfway through the event."

She allowed him to guide her toward the small table set near the window, where the maids had already arranged a modest but appetizing spread.

Freshly baked bread, slices of fruit, and a warm bowl of porridge sprinkled with nuts and honey awaited her.

Lucas pulled out her chair, his every movement radiating care.

"Thank you," she said softly as she sat.

He leaned down, brushing a featherlight kiss against her temple. "Always."

As Florence began to eat, she couldn’t help but watch him out of the corner of her eye.

Lucas busied himself adjusting his cufflinks and straightening his jacket, his posture effortlessly regal yet relaxed.

He was impossibly handsome, with his golden hair catching the light and his blue eyes sparkling with a mix of playfulness and devotion.

"You look too perfect," she teased, breaking the silence.

He turned to her with a mock frown. "Too perfect? Should I ruffle my hair a bit? Smudge my boots? Would that help?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "You know what I mean. You’re going to make every other prince there look like a commoner."

"Good," Lucas said with a grin, sitting across from her. "Maybe it’ll keep them too distracted to bother us."

Florence smiled, warmth blooming in her chest.

As she finished her breakfast, the maids returned to help her into her shoes and fetch a light shawl in case the weather turned chilly.

The atmosphere in the room was peaceful, yet filled with quiet anticipation.

Lucas watched her carefully, his gaze softening as she stood by the mirror, adjusting the folds of her gown. "Are you ready, Florence?"

She turned to him, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. "As ready as I’ll ever be."

He crossed the room in two strides, taking her hand in his. "Then let’s go face the chaos together."

With Lucas by her side, Florence felt a reassuring sense of calm.

She didn’t need the jewels or the grand dresses—his unwavering presence was all the strength she needed.

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Enid Velthorne’s chamber was steeped in a lazy decadence, the soft morning light filtering through heavy velvet curtains, muted and subdued.

The air was thick with the lingering aroma of wine from the night before, mingled with the faint trace of expensive perfumes.

He lounged on a chaise, shirtless, his lean but muscular frame relaxed as if he had all the time in the world.

Before him knelt Ava—infamous, magnetic, and utterly in control of the situation despite her position.

Her flowing hair was a cascade of dark waves, framing a face so striking it had ensnared nearly every man in the Velthorne family.

Her lips curled into a playful smile, one that promised indulgence and power in equal measure.

Ava was no common maiden; she was a woman who had carved her place among the royals not with wealth—though she had plenty—but with her charm, confidence, and allure.

Her movements were deliberate and slow, her hands and lips working expertly, and Enid groaned low in satisfaction, his head falling back against the chaise. "You’ve outdone yourself, Ava," he murmured, his voice hoarse with pleasure. "No wonder they all crawl to you like dogs."