Agnes refused to let her beloved granddaughter wear the gown Lucas Arden had once prepared, fearing the fabric carried ill luck.
That very afternoon, as if by fate, the renowned designer arrived at the Hale estate with a brand new creation that hadn't debuted yet.
Lyra stood in the center of the room, the gown hugging her slender frame with effortless grace. Her honey blonde hair was swept up into an elegant style, a few soft curls falling gently around her face.
She turned toward the door when the expected knock came and Dr. Alexander Ashford entered the room with a small boy clinging slightly to his side.
He hugged her gently, careful not to wrinkle her gown, and Lyra pressed a small kiss to his cheek.
"You take after Avelina so much," Alexander murmured, dabbing at his tears, remembering his late wife.
He had heard the news, yet Lyra stood so strong after all she had endured only yesterday.
Stronger than she had been years ago, when the news of Avelina's passing had hit her like a storm and left her confined to bed for weeks.
"Lyra..."
He gazed at her, his hands gently cupping her face with warmth.
"I understand that you want to protect our family, and how deeply you honor your grandfather's wishes… but whatever your answer is I'll always stand by you."
Alex meant every word.
If she chose to refuse the marriage at the altar, he would honor her decision. He never wanted her to feel trapped in a union she didn't desire.
Lyra was quietly moved by her father's heartfelt words. But she only nodded in response.
Her gaze fell on a small boy, his arms crossed and a scowl tugging at his face. The thought of his sister being taken away clearly didn't sit well with him.
Lyra leaned down, smoothing a golden stray lock of Dominic's hair.
"Hey, Nick."
Dominic Ashford didn't reply, still reluctant to let go of his protective grip on his sister.
The sight made Lyra chuckle softly.
"Lyra… it's time," Alex said, offering his hand to his daughter.
She placed her hand in his, and together they stepped onto the aisle.
Step by step, they moved slowly down the aisle, Lyra bowing as she stole a quick glance at her guests.
She saw Nora among them, smiling with a mix of emotions on her face as she dabbed at her tears.
And her gaze drifted to the groom's side.
Most of the faces were unfamiliar, except for Damian and Kane.
And as she reached halfway down the aisle, reality began to sink in, the groom stood at the altar, waiting for her.
She could hear her heartbeat, loud and uneven as her nerves rose a notch. Lyra clutched her father's arm trying to steady herself.
"Lyra, are you all right?"
Lyra nodded. "Just a little nervous."
"It's okay. I'm here." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as he guided her toward the groom.
For one final moment, she met her father's eyes before the groom reached for her hand and led her away.
Rowan's hand closed around hers, immediately felt it tremble. His brow furrowed.
"Five minutes," he said to the officiant beside him. "I just need to help the bride steady herself."
The officiant nodded and stepped aside, giving them a small pocket of privacy. But his gesture was quickly misread, murmurs stirring among the guests.
Monica exchanged a look with her husband. "What's he up to?" she whispered.
"It's okay. I'll go check," Albert replied.
He stepped to the side of the altar and called, "Rowan? What's happening?"
Rowan looked back at his father, lifting a hand in a small, measured gesture. "Just five minutes," he said evenly. "Everything will be fine."
Albert returned to Monica's side, shrugging slightly at her. This youngest son of them had a knack for keeping them on edge.
They both glanced at Agnes, who had remained calm and composed from the beginning, though neither of them noticed the way her hand was clenched tightly around her dress.
"Just breathe with me." He held her hand firmly and whispered, "Collect yourself, just breathe slowly."
Lyra closed her eyes and inhaled shakily, letting the warmth of his hand ground her until the flutter in her chest slowly eased.
"I've got you," he murmured.
For a few heartbeats, she steadied herself, her breathing finally evening out.
"Thank you, sir," she said quietly.
Rowan arched a brow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Is that what you're calling your husband?"
Lyra's mouth parted slightly as she realized her mistake, still too used to the way she had addressed him the day before.
Her gaze flicked up to meet his. "Rowan..." she corrected softly.
"Good." He cast a quick glance at his watch. "We've got two more minutes."
He drew a slow breath and asked, "Do you really want to go through with this?"
Lyra's brows lifted slightly at the unexpected question.
"Do you mean… am I ready for this marriage?"
"Yes. Just tell me the truth."
"Of course…" Lyra nodded, though it didn't seem to satisfy him.
He leaned closer, whispering into her ear. "If that's the case,
I hope you're not marrying me just because someone told you to. I'm not the kind of man who pretends in a contract marriage or lives with his wife like they're strangers.
My wife is someone I share my life with, someone who walks beside me and helps me build a home we can both belong to. Do you understand?"
Lyra was taken aback. She had never imagined he would say something so sincere.
He was someone who thought exactly as she did. Lucas had never spoken to her that way before.
After all, she knew there was no escaping this marriage. She was doing it for the sake of her grandmother's health, for her grandfather's last wish, and to save her family from humiliation.
But the truth was, she trusted her family's choice. There had to be a reason her grandfather had chosen him.
Still, one thing bothered her, the woman named Yvette.
If she asked him about it now, would the discussion drag on until tomorrow? Or worse, would he walk out on the wedding altogether? That would cause even more trouble.
But one thing was certain, if he ever dared to cheat on her, she would leave him without hesitation, just as she had left Lucas.
Lyra reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"I understand. I'm not taking this lightly and I'll do my part too."
That made Rowan smile, warmth spreading across his face.
"Ahem! Ahem!" came a deliberate cough from behind them.
Both of them turned their heads, only to see Monica standing behind them, her arms crossed. Albert stood just behind her with his hands on his hips, while Alex beside him wore a puzzled expression.
Lyra quickly turned her head back, her face growing even redder, like a ripe apple. She had completely forgotten that the guests were watching them from their seats.
"Were you making her cry, you rascal?" Monica said in a low voice, trying to hide her anger in front of the guests.
"No." he said quickly, worried his mother would start nagging him.
"Shall we begin, then?" Albert turned and waved to the officiant to start the ceremony.