Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1668 - 110 : Planning and Preparations

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Chapter 1668: Chapter 110 : Planning and Preparations

*Briella*

The room felt like a whirlwind of pastel chaos, ribbons and swatches of silk cascading from the hands of the eager maids who surrounded me. I was caught in the eye of a storm I never asked for, my gaze flitting from one overzealous attendant to another as they paraded an endless array of dress samples before me. The air was thick with the scent of lilies and roses, a floral bouquet that seemed to mock my discomfort.

"Isn’t this just marvelous, Your Majesty?" one of the maids chimed, her eyes shining with a fervor I couldn’t muster.

"Uh, sure," I replied, feigning enthusiasm while attempting to sidestep another maid who came at me with a cushion of velvet the color of the ocean at dawn. I wasn’t used to being fussed over like this. My instincts honed more for the clash of steel than the whisper of taffeta.

From the corner of the room, I caught my mother’s amused gaze. She stood there, leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed and a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Mother," I called out, my voice nearly lost amid the clamor of excited planning, "do you see what’s happening here?"

She pushed away from the door and sauntered over, the amusement clear in her bright green eyes that matched mine. "I do, indeed. It appears you’re getting married in quite an extraordinary fashion."

I let out a soft huff, the absurdity of it all rising within me. "But we said a small ceremony, remember? Just close friends and family. What is the use of all this fuss and fabric?"

"Of course, I remember," she said with a gentle laugh, her gaze taking in the spectacle before us. "But these ladies don’t understand the concept of ’small,’ it seems."

"Clearly," I muttered, plucking a feather-light strand of lace from where it had been draped over my arm by yet another well-meaning handmaid. I was a warrior at heart, accustomed to the weight of armor, not the delicacy of wedding finery.

"Besides," I continued, meeting my mother’s eyes, "it’s not like the whole kingdom needs to watch me say ’I do.’"

"True," my mother agreed, her tone soothing yet edged with mischief. "But can you deny them a little excitement? You are their queen, after all."

"Queen or not," I countered, trying not to let the frustration show in my voice, "this is our day, Kryzen’s and mine. It’s not a performance."

My mother nodded, her expression softening with understanding. "Just breathe, Briella. This will all come together. And at the end of the day, it will be about you and Kryzen. Nothing else matters."

"Right," I said, drawing in a long breath, feeling slightly steadied by her words. "Thanks, Mother."

She winked at me and then gracefully stepped back into the role of observer, leaving me to navigate the sea of eager helpers. My mind wandered to Kryzen, wondering if he was dealing with anything half as overwhelming as this. I could only hope that amidst the ribbons and flowers, our true wishes for the day wouldn’t get lost.

I plucked at a swatch of violet satin, the smooth fabric slipping between my fingers like liquid moonlight. The room was a flurry of activity, each lady and handmaid more eager than the last to drape me in their vision of perfection.

"Darling," my mother’s voice cut through the din, calm and authoritative, "remember that as queen, your people cherish every opportunity to celebrate with you. They will expect grandeur."

I sighed, letting the satin fall back onto the table cluttered with samples. "Mother, I understand, but Kryzen and I want simplicity for the vows, just us and the closest of our hearts." I glanced up, searching her eyes. "But we haven’t forgotten our people. We will throw a ball that will have the kingdom talking for generations."

My mother’s lips curved into a smile that reached her bright green eyes—eyes I had inherited. "A compromise fit for a queen," she mused, nodding her approval.

"Speaking of queenship," I started, eyeing the mountain of decisions yet to be made, "how did you manage all this when you married Father?"

She chuckled, a warm sound that filled the room. "I had help, just like you do now. And speaking of help..." My mother deftly navigated through the gaggle of women, her presence parting them like the sea before a ship’s prow, until she stood beside me.

"Let’s start with something simple, shall we?" she suggested, gesturing toward an array of colored ribbons. "The colors, Briella. What speaks to you?"

"None of them," I admitted with a half-smile, shrugging. "Honestly, I never imagined caring about such things."

"Maybe not," Mother said, her hand resting on my shoulder, "but these choices are more than mere decorations. They’re reflections and symbols of the life you and Kryzen are building together."

"Then let it reflect him," I said, my mind weaving through memories of Kryzen’s laughter, his strength, and unwavering love. "Blue, like his eyes when he smiles, and silver, like the edge of his sword."

"Beautiful choices," Zara agreed, picking up a ribbon of deep blue. "And the silver will catch the light just so." She held the ribbon out to me. I took it, feeling its weightlessness a noticeable contrast to my usual garb of leather and steel.

"Thank you, Mother," I said, the words full of gratitude not just for her assistance now but for always being there, even when the path I chose was less traveled.

"Always, my fierce little warrior," she replied, her gaze softening. "Now, let’s tackle the next decision together."

As we moved on to the next choice, I couldn’t help but feel a small flutter of excitement amidst the overwhelming sense of duty. Maybe there was some magic in the mundane after all.

Stumbling through the doorway, the weight of countless decisions left in the wake of wedding preparations had all but drained me. The door closed with a soft click behind me, and I was enveloped by the sanctuary of our private quarters.

"Looks like someone waged war with an army of ribbons and flowers... and lost," Kryzen’s voice rumbled with a chuckle as he looked up from a stack of parchment that littered our table. His gray eyes glinted with mirth, reflecting the silver moonlight that spilled through the open window.

"Ha-ha," I replied dryly, pulling at a stray ribbon that had somehow tangled itself in my hair. "For the record, this was your grand idea, which means you should be leading the charge in wedding planning, not me."

His laughter filled the room, warm and rich, easing some of the tension from my shoulders. "I’m quite certain I never suggested anything about color schemes for napkins or the exact bloom of flowers," he said, standing to cross the room toward me. His height and broad shoulders, usually so imposing, felt like a comforting shadow as he drew nearer.

"Yet here we are," I sighed, letting myself fall back onto the bed with a dramatic flourish. The mattress welcomed me, a soothing change from the hard stone floors of the meeting room. I stared at the canopy above us, pondering the absurdity of it all. "Tell me again, why are we doing this? We already rule side by side as king and queen."

Kryzen followed, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand finding mine. "Because," he began, his voice dropping to a tender timbre, "this isn’t about crowns or thrones. It’s about us, Briella. Just us."

He turned my hand over, tracing the lines of my palm in a way that sent shivers down my spine. He then lifted it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist. "A ceremony for the world to see is one thing, but a moment shared between two hearts is another. That’s what I want—a day where the world falls away, and it’s only you and me pledging our lives to each other."

His words wrapped around me like a soothing balm, calming the chaos that reigned in my mind. Maybe there was room for sentiment amidst the duty after all.

The warmth of his hand on mine seemed to still the world, and I found myself lost in Kryzen’s gaze. "And what about after?" I whispered, my voice barely carrying across the quiet expanse of our chamber. "When the vows are said and the last petal falls from the wedding garland?"

"Then," he said, closing the distance between us until I could feel his breath mingling with my own, "I take you as my queen, not just in title but in heart and soul. I may be mate and king, but I want everything. Because, Briella, to me, you are more than a crown, more than a kingdom. You are my everything."

"Everything..." The word lingered in the air, a promise, an echo of something profound.

"Everything," he confirmed, his eyes reflecting the truth of his words. He brushed a stray lock of hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear with a gentleness that belied his strength. “Everything and more, my love.”

"Kryzen," I breathed, allowing the walls I built around myself to crumble, revealing the longing I often kept hidden beneath layers of duty and defiance. "I want that too, to be yours, truly and wholly forever."

He flashed a smile that spoke of shared secrets and silent conversations and pulled me closer. His arms enveloped me, creating a sanctuary where the weight of expectations could not reach. There, in the circle of his embrace, I nestled against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

"Then it’s settled," he murmured into my hair. "It will be a ceremony for us, a moment suspended in time where nothing exists but our love."

"Us," I echoed, a contented sigh escaping my lips as I allowed myself to relax fully against him. In his arms, the chaos of ribbons and swatches, the relentless march of royal duties, faded into insignificance. And for a few precious moments, it was only us—king and queen in name, but so much more at heart.

We lay there together, embraced in the quiet intimacy of the night, the moon casting a silvery glow over us. The soft rustle of fabric and the gentle cadence of our breathing were the only sounds that filled the space between us—our sanctuary, where time seemed to slow and worries dared not intrude.

With his hand tenderly holding mine, I felt like I belonged, like nothing in this world could ever come between us. Who would have thought? The boy who had tortured me so, the boy who became the man that vexed me, would become the one who meant everything and more?

He was my mate and king, and he would soon be my husband.