Axilla, Capital City of Ukatis
HNN Short Segment
The royal family of Ukatis has formally announced the marriage of Crown Prince Horace von Cholmondeley III , son of King Horace von Cholmendeley II and the departed Queen Drusilla von Cholmendeley to Corazona von Ascania, daughter of Viscount Marcel Ascania and Viscountess Luciana von Ascania. A lavish but intimate affair, the wedding ceremony took place in the Chapel of Axilla followed by a reception hosted in the Royal Palace.
The new Princess Cholmondeley wore a custom elegant dress made by an independent designer, Thelma Goth of Coruscant. Additionally, Prince Horace has gifted his bride with an exquisite and unique wedding ring—a silver band flecked with deep violet glimmers.
Despite rumors that the wedding may be a prime target for a group of masked insurgents that have previously caused trouble in the capital, the event was reported to proceeded smoothly with no interruptions.
All of us at HNN extend our congratulations to the happy couple.
“I do.”
Horace’s voice, level as it was, sounded so very loud in her head. It rang between her ears, vibrating like a crash so intensely that Cora couldn’t even hear the Chaplain as he repeated the vows to her.
She’d always envisioned her wedding day as a happy affair. A white dress, plenty of flowers, her friends and family surrounding her and the groom. This was no fairy tale. This was all wrong.
The chapel held a certain austere charm with its high pointed ceilings and ornate stonework, but it was not warm and loving. The corset beneath her dress was actively strangling the breath from her lungs. Her parents and the eldest of her siblings were present to witness the union, all uniformly stern and silent.
Worst of all, the groom was not the man she loved.
Silence pervaded the room and when Cora turned to Horace, she found him staring at her expectantly. Threateningly, even.
It was her turn to speak. Cora suppressed the urge to swallow, the urge to cry out in anguish, the urge to shove Horace away, hitch up her dress, and run as fast as she could to the nearest space port.
Instead, she remained. Bound by duty, by loyalty, by submission. She could not hear herself as she spoke, two hollow words that floated from her lips up into the rafters of the church.
Her voice had been stolen.
“I do.”
