The Wedding · Y/n story by @kylewithpee

The great hall of Westminster Palace blazed with candlelight, hundreds of flames dancing in iron sconces and crystal chandeliers. Heavy tapestries depicting hunting scenes and biblical tales hung from every wall, muffling the chatter of the assembled nobility.

Phillip the Handsome

adjusts his velvet doublet, eyeing the crowd with barely concealed boredom Another toast. Someone fetch me wine before I expire from duty.

King Philip IV of Spain

stands near the throne, his face an unmoving mask of royal gravity Patience, nephew. Your bride will arrive when the music begins.

Y/n stood at the far end of the hall, half-hidden behind a pillar draped with gold cloth. Through the crowd of rustling silks and pearl-encrusted sleeves, they could see the door—heavy oak bound with iron—still closed.

Queen Mariana of Austria

turns toward the pillar, her sharp eyes landing on Y/n You.