Mrs. Verit retreated to her seat with a satisfied smile, her work was done. She had dropped her little bomb and now she could watch the fallout from a safe distance.
Vespera stood perfectly still for three seconds. Her practiced smile remained in place, her posture impeccable. But Zareal saw it. The way her mother-in-law's jaw tightened. The way her fingers curled around her clutch until the leather creased.
She didn't know either.
The realization hit Zareal with unexpected force. Vespera had expected him to show. Had believed her son when he said yes. And now she was standing here just as blindsided as Zareal, but was just better at hiding it.
Vespera turned slightly away from the crowd, her movements controlled and deliberate. She pulled her phone from her clutch with the kind of casual grace that suggested she was simply checking the time, not desperately trying to locate her missing son.
Her thumb moved across the screen. and she pressed the phone to her ear.
Zareal watched her face. Watched for any flicker of relief, any sign that he'd answered.
It rings the first time, but vespera's expression still remained neutral. It rings the second time, a small line now suddenly appearing between her brows. It rings the third time, and her lips were now pressed together. And then it rings the fourth, with her eyes closed briefly. Just a fraction of a second. and opened again, but this time, colder than before.
And then it hits voicemail.
"You've reached ranulf sterling, leave a message"
Vespera lowered the phone without leaving a message. Her hand returned to her side, fingers still gripping the device like it had personally offended her.
"He's not answering her either," Zareal thought. "His own mother."
Something about that felt significant. even when he ignored every other call, every other obligation, he picked up for Vespera. but not today, not for this.
Suddenly vespera turned to zareal. for a moment, their eyes met. And Zareal saw something in Vespera's expression that she'd never quite seen before. Not quite anger. Not quite panic. Something that lived between the two.
"Did he say anything to you this morning?" Vespera's voice was low and controlled. But with an edge that could cut.
"Mention where he was going? Any meetings? Anything at all?"
Zareal's throat felt dry. "No. I... I haven't spoken to him since yesterday evening."....
And even then, it was just him walking past her in the hallway. Not actually speaking, just existing in the same space.
He doesn't even talk to her, she usually finds out about his schedule from staff members and overheard phone calls. possibly because she wasn't his wife in any way that matters.
Something flickered across vespera's face. Zareal couldn't quite read it. somewhat disappointment? frustration? realization that her son had truly blown this off without a word to anyone?
"I see," vespera said quietly. and then she turned away. but not before zareal caught the shift. the way Vespera's controlled composure cracked just slightly at the edges. The way her hand went back to her clutch, fingers pressing against the leather like she was physically restraining herself from throwing it.
The crowd was growing restless now, and zareal could feel it like a physical pressure. chairs creaked as people shifted their weight. Conversations had started up again, no longer bothering to be discreet. Someone laughed, like actually laughed. A sharp, bright sound that felt obscene against the backdrop of Zareal's humiliation.
The officiant cleared his throat. Soft. Apologetic. "Mrs. Sterling, I do have another appointment at eight o'clock..."
He didn't finish the sentence, didn't need to. They both knew what he was saying.
Vespera stepped forward before Zareal could respond. Took control the way she always did when situations threatened to spiral beyond her careful management.
"Of course, Reverend." Her voice had shifted back to that warm, apologetic tone she used for public consumption. "We completely understand. Thank you so much for your patience."
She turned to face the gathering. every eye was on her now. Waiting to see how the matriarch of the sterling family would salvage this disaster.
Vespera's smile was perfect, warm, and understanding. completely manufactured.
"I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience this delay has caused you, my dear guests."... Her voice carried across the overlook with practiced authority, the tone of a woman who had spent decades commanding boardrooms and ballrooms alike. "It appears that urgent matters at Sterling Industries have required my son's immediate attention. These acquisition negotiations, as many of you know, have reached a critical juncture."
She paused. let the weight of corporate importance settle over the crowd like a blanket meant to smother their judgment.
"I'm certain you can appreciate that the demands of leading a company of this magnitude sometimes require difficult choices. Choices that, while unfortunate in their timing, speak to the dedication and responsibility that define the Sterling name."
"She's turning his absence into a virtue," Zareal thought numbly. "Making it sound noble instead of cruel."
"I would never want to impose further on your valuable time," Vespera continued. "Please, do feel free to take your leave. Should we choose to reschedule this celebration, you will of course be the first to be informed. Thank you for your understanding and your continued support of this family."....
It was a dismissal wrapped in gratitude. A command dressed as courtesy, and it worked.
People stood, gathered their things and made their polite excuses with relieved smiles. They'd fulfilled their social obligation by showing up. Now they were free to leave and gossip about this disaster over dinner and drinks.
The scraping of chairs against stone filled the air. The murmur of voices growing louder as they moved away from the altar, away from Zareal standing there like a monument to misplaced hope.
Mrs. Verit passed by with her husband, her expression smug beneath a mask of sympathy. "Do give Ranulf our regards, dear. I'm sure whatever kept him was terribly important."
The words were knives wrapped in silk. zareal nodded. Managed something that might have been a smile. as she watched them walk away.
One by one, the guests dispersed. Board members and their wives. Executives who'd probably already filed this incident away as leverage for future negotiations. Friends of Vespera's who would spread this story through their social circles before the night was over.
The beautiful ceremony Vespera had arranged was dissolving like sugar in rain. The white chairs sat empty now. the floral arrangements looked wilted in the fading light. The lighthouse beam flickered on behind her, cutting through the growing dusk.
The officiant offered Zareal an apologetic nod before heading off. even he couldn't get away fast enough.
And then it was just the staff. Nadine and the others beginning to pack up the unused reception. Hester, another of zareal's mischievous personal maids, always giving off energy that didn't align with that of zareal's, standing near the pathway with that small, and satisfied smile.
And Zareal stood at the altar where she'd been standing for over an hour, watching her hope walk away with the departing guests.
Vespera was already moving toward the cars, phone pressed to her ear again, trying Ranulf one more time. or maybe calling someone else. Her assistant, the head of security.
Someone who could locate her son and drag him here to clean up this mess.
But it was too late for that, the ceremony was over. The guests were gone. and the white chairs sat empty around her.
Everything just seemed indifferent and eternal, and to someone, it was as if this ceremony had never been scheduled at all.