Page 54 of Kissing Potions and Elves (Oakvale Ever After #1)
ISOBEL
N ervous butterflies flutter in my stomach as I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror.
My golden hair is braided with white moonflowers woven throughout.
My pale blue wedding gown is made of shimmering silk that flows gracefully over every curve, embroidered with a pattern of intricate leaves and vines in silver thread.
I rest my hand over my mother’s locket. Deep down, I know my parents would be happy for me if they were here. Wearing it today feels right—honoring their memory, carrying a piece of them with me on my wedding day.
I smile as I gaze at myself again in the mirror. I feel like a princess that stepped out of a fairy tale. I’ve never felt so lovely in my entire life.
“You look breathtaking,” Hilda says as she adjusts the gown’s train. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “He’s going to be utterly speechless when he sees you.”
Rhystan stands by the door, dressed in his blue tunic and matching trousers.
“My brother won’t know what hit him,” he teases.
He rests his hands on my shoulders as his lips curve up in a grin.
“Lyrion loves you with every breath he takes. I’m so happy you two found each other. And I’m glad to have you as my sister.”
“Thank you, Rhystan.” I smile. “You’re the best brother I could have asked for.”
“Of course I am.” He grins. “But I’ll still let you tell me as often as you like.” He winks jokingly, and I laugh.
Errol saunters in and hops up on the table beside me, looking adorable in his little bow tie. I lift him into my arms and give him a cuddle as he purrs and rubs against my chin.
“We can’t forget this.” Rhystan pulls out a necklace made of blue silk ribbon, a pair of rings dangling from the end. He drapes it around Errol’s neck. “There. Now you are officially the ringbearer.”
Errol puffs out his chest with pride, looking every bit like a regal lion.
Outside, sunlight spills across the temple grounds, highlighting the sturdy stone columns wrapped in climbing vines blooming with tiny flowers of pink and white. Their sweet fragrance drifts on the breeze, mingling with the faint music of a lute playing nearby.
“Ready?” Tressa’s gentle voice draws my attention. She stands beside me in a soft blue gown, her delicate dragonfly wings fluttering behind her and her golden eyes full of warmth. “It’s time.”
“Yes.”
Tressa and Rhystan step out first, leading the way toward the waiting crowd gathered outside. I take one more steadying breath, smoothing my gown nervously.
“You look lovely,” Lyrion’s father says as he moves to my side.
Because my own parents are gone, he offered to walk me down the aisle. I’d thought Lyrion’s family might have issues accepting me, but they’ve been nothing but kind since I met them.
They wanted a traditional Elven ceremony, but agreed we could have a simple one here and a quiet Elven one back in Rivenyl later.
“I’m sure your parents are smiling down upon you today,” he says. “I’m so sorry they cannot be here with you, Isobel. I know I’m a poor substitute for your father, but I’m honored to walk you down the aisle today, my daughter.”
Touched by his words, tears sting my eyes. “Thank you.”
Lyrion’s mother adjusts my train and then smooths back a curl that’s escaped my braid. She hugs me warmly. “You’re absolutely beautiful,” she whispers in my ear. She takes a small step back as she looks at me and Lyrion’s father. “I’ll see you two down the aisle.”
She leaves to take her seat on the front row of the temple.
Lyrion’s father offers me his arm and I loop mine around it.
Errol moves to my side, the rings secured around his neck. He lifts his chin with pride and strides forward, tail held high with confidence as he walks down the aisle.
We follow him out into the bright sunlight, my heart nearly stopping when I see Lyrion at the altar. He looks so handsome in his deep blue tunic with elegant silver vines embroidered along the sleeves and chest, perfectly fitted trousers, and polished black boots.
His violet eyes lock onto mine immediately, his lips parting as a look of awe and adoration fills his expression.
All my nervousness melts away as I walk down the aisle toward my beloved—the strong, protective, intelligent, handsome, and sometimes broody Elf who holds my heart completely. A smile quirks my mouth. Even when he’s grumpy as a Goblin before he’s had his morning tea.
When I reach him, he takes my hands. My heart hammers as his intense gaze holds mine. “Isobel,” he breathes. “You are stunning.”
“You too,” I whisper.
Heat rises in my cheeks as I softly bite my lower lip to contain my smile. I’ve never been so happy.
Rhystan and Tressa step aside, grinning as they watch us, while Errol proudly saunters forward, the rings jingling with each imperious step.
Quiet chuckles ripple through the crowd as he positions himself regally between us, tail twitching proudly.
Lyrion’s lips quirk in amusement as he retrieves the rings, leaning close to whisper, “You did wonderfully, Errol. Thank you.”
Errol tips his chin up with pride, eyes glittering.
The priestess steps forward, her silver robes shimmering in the sunlight as she speaks words of love and commitment.
I barely hear her, lost entirely in Lyrion’s gaze, his eyes burning with fierce devotion, tenderness, and unspoken promises.
“Isobel,” he murmurs, his voice steady yet thick with emotion, “from the moment I first saw you, I was captivated. Since then, you have shown me warmth, kindness, and love, even at times when I’ve been grumpy as a Goblin with a headache or before I’ve had my tea.”
Soft laughter moves through the crowd before he continues, his expression serious. “Today, I vow before all who witness this to love you deeply, to cherish you endlessly, and to remain forever yours.”
My vision blurs with tears as my heart swells. “Lyrion, you taught me what it truly means to belong, to be seen and loved completely. With you, I am home. Today and always, I vow to love you with my whole heart, to stand by your side, and to cherish you for as long as the stars shine in the sky.”
Lyrion slips the ring onto my finger, and I do the same in return, sealing our promise with matching symbols of our love.
The priestess smiles. “With these vows, you are now bound in love, trust, and mutual devotion. May your days be filled with happiness, and your hearts forever entwined.”
Applause erupts around us, bright and joyous. But I scarcely hear it, my focus entirely on Lyrion as he cups my face, his gaze tender and full of emotion. “My heart is yours, forever,” he whispers.
“And mine is yours.”
He lowers his head, capturing my mouth in a passionate kiss. As the cheers rise around us, my heart soars, joy and belonging filling every corner of my being.
I am his, and he is mine. Always.