Chapter 49 The Wedding
The sky over Hollow Ridge was brushed in hues of gold and lavender, the sun dipping low behind the hills as if bowing to the moment.
Isabella stood in front of the tall mirrors in the west wing of the manor, her reflection glowing in a gown of delicate ivory lace. Not ostentatious—she had insisted on that. The dress was simple, elegant, like the ring she wore now. Like the love they had built—layered, quiet, enduring.
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