The palace buzzed with activity as the day of the wedding rehearsal arrived.
Elian walked through the grand halls, watching attendants rush around with scrolls and papers, florists weaving fresh blooms into the latticework above, musicians practicing melodies that drifted through the corridors.
The preparation, even for a mere rehearsal, seemed intense, almost overwhelming, and he felt the weight of it press on his chest. This was no simple affair, this was the wedding of a future emperor, and he would stand beside Izan, in front of an audience who expected perfection.
Izan, sensing Elian's tension, met him at the entrance to the hall. His calm smile was a balm, reassuring and steadying. Elian's heart skipped, realizing just how much strength he drew from Izan's presence alone. "Ready for our practice run?" Izan asked, reaching for Elian's hand with a gentle squeeze.