So I Walked Down The Aisle In White Only To Expose Every Forged Document And Ruin Them In Front Of High Society.

The minister spoke of honor, duty, and eternal devotion. The crowd was utterly captivated, several older women in the front rows already dabbing handkerchiefs at their eyes.

"Julian," Reverend Campbell intoned, turning to him. "Do you take Elena to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

Julian didn't hesitate. He looked directly into my eyes, summoning every ounce of his charm.

"I do," he said clearly. "With all my heart, I do."

"And do you, Elena," the minister turned to me, "take Julian to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

The entire garden fell into a breathless hush.

Two seconds passed.

Then three.

Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly, a microscopic twitch developing beneath his left eye. He gave my hands a firm, prompting squeeze.

Behind him, Claire leaned forward slightly, her knuckles whitening around her bouquet.

I gently slipped my hands out of Julian’s grasp.

I reached up, lifted my heavy veil, and threw it back over my head.

My face was completely calm. Not a tear. Not a quiver of the lip.

I looked at Reverend Campbell. "Before I answer that question, Reverend... there is an ancient tradition in this church, isn't there?"

The minister blinked, taken aback. "I... yes, my child. The declaration of impediments."

"Exactly," I said, turning my body so that I was facing the two hundred and fifty guests seated under the canopy. "The part where you ask if anyone here knows of any reason why this couple should not be lawfully joined."

A low murmur rippled through the crowd.

Julian stepped forward, reaching for my arm with a tight, nervous chuckle. "Elena, sweetheart, what are you doing? Let’s stick to the program."

"Don't touch me, Julian," I said, my voice carrying clearly into the microphone pinned to my lapel.

The sound resonated through the speakers with shocking clarity.

"Elena, you’re making a scene," Claire hissed from the side, taking two quick steps toward me. "Whatever is wrong, we can talk about it in the bridal suite! You’re embarrassing your father!"

"My father is enjoying every second of this, Claire," I said smoothly, gesturing toward the front row.

Richard Vance sat back in his chair, his hands resting on his silver cane, watching the altar with the cold detachment of a spectator at the Colosseum.