Night had deepened, the guests had departed, and most of the lights had gone out.
After the servants withdrew, the heavy wooden door closed softly with a single click, shutting out the world.
The bedchamber was spacious and quiet, its gauzy curtains hanging low, the faint sweetness of roses and incense lingering in the air.
Only the two of them remained.
Emily stood in the center of the room with her head lowered, her hands unconsciously clutching the skirt of her wedding dress.
It was the gown she had been so proud of at today's wedding, the one that had dazzled everyone.
Yet now, as Emily looked at it, she seemed... a little at a loss.
Her ears burned, and her heart raced as though she had just fought a battle.
She did not even dare look at Louis.
So this is what they call the wedding night? she silently asked herself.
Just then, the faint rustle of fabric came from behind her.
Louis took off his outer robe and draped it neatly over the back of a nearby chair.
Then he approached her, his footsteps almost inaudible.
Emily sensed him stop before her.
Then he took her hand.
His hand was warm, his palm dry and strong as it enclosed her cool fingers.
"Still nervous?" Louis asked, a hint of teasing in his low voice.
Before she could answer, his expression abruptly turned solemn, and he said with exaggerated seriousness, "How about... I fetch the priest? We can hold the ceremony properly all over again."
Emily finally let out a snort of laughter. She raised her head to glare at him, but a smile had already touched her lips.
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
"You smiled." Louis smiled too, lowering his head to kiss the back of her