Vampire's Veil Of Obsession-Chapter 153: Part Three:Lady Roselina

"Your Majesty, why the change of heart? You said you weren’t interested in her," Lucas said as he looked at Zethan, who had been smirking occasionally while signing papers from different kingdoms.

The ones he wasn’t interested in, he pushed aside. The others—those he intended to follow up with—he signed with two distinct signatures, each carrying a different meaning.

Zethan chuckled, that same empty kind, at Lucas’s words.

"Oh really?" he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Well, I’m interested now. It seems she has a lover here. I’d love to see her fight for him. Isn’t that cute? A poor little bunny fighting for the man she loves... while married to the king. Let’s just say—this king of yours is bored."

Lucas’s eyes widened. No one needed to explain what Zethan meant. So this was all for his amusement? To see her suffer? To watch someone fight for love while trapped in pain? What was wrong with this king of his?

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Roselina stood in front of the mirror, staring at the breathtaking reflection before her. She could hardly believe it—she was about to give that annoying king her first kiss. She had always imagined her first kiss would be with Federick, on their wedding day. Why had everything changed so suddenly?

All because of one night—where she was told she was fated to be the king’s wife, as the seer had said. Now, she was wondering if he had seen wrongly, but one thing about the seer was this: they were never wrong. What they saw, happened.

She wore a white wedding gown layered with delicate silver net embroidery that flowed gracefully to the floor. The gown had short sleeves, but her long white gloves reached up past her elbows, adding elegance to her look. The upper part of the gown hugged her waist perfectly, accentuating her figure, and on her feet, she wore glass heels that sparkled with every step.

Her blonde hair was pinned up into a neat bun, with a few loose strands softly framing her face, secured by heavy, ornate pins. As Roselina wondered if this would be how she’d always wear her hair after marrying the king—pinned and confined—a small sigh escaped her lips. Her hazel eyes stared at her reflection, her hair covered by a delicate white net veil, the very veil the king was supposed to lift when it was time to seal their fate with a kiss.

A final sigh slipped from her lips, weighed down by uncertainty. She didn’t know what to do—and truthfully, there wasn’t much she could do. If she broke any rules by trying to cut off the wedding, the consequences would be severe, even cursed. Ultimately, it was only the king who held the power to act as he wished. A commoner like her? She wasn’t even worth the time it took to hear her words. The seer had said this, and breaking them could mean elimination—or worse—death, or a dreadful curse.

So, was this marriage truly better than her previous life? No. But she would still fight for her rights, and for Federick. She deserved to be happy with the man she loved.

Her eyes burned as tears threatened to spill, but she held them back. She couldn’t afford to be weak—not now. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her. She had only been here a day, yet ever since hearing about the marriage to the king, she hadn’t truly felt the pain. Or maybe she had—but she had pushed it away, told herself it wasn’t real.

When exactly did the tears decide to come? Was it today? Tonight? She couldn’t say. But now, standing before the mirror and staring at her own reflection, it all hit her at once. The truth was undeniable—this was real.

She began blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. If she blinked it will help right, and she didn’t want to ruin her makeup. Her hair felt heavy, weighed down by the many pins that held it in place. For a few minutes, she stayed still, the weight of reality pressing on her. Once she married the king, she would become queen. Was she truly ready for that?

Ready for all these heavy pins on her head, like some kind of luxury punishment?

All she ever wanted was a normal life—a simple life with Federick in the village. She imagined mornings when he would leave for work, and she’d step out into the garden and water the flowers as he kissed the children goodbye and took them to school. She would clean, care for the house, and when they returned, she’d help the children with their assignments. Her husband would come home and gently kiss her forehead, and together they’d sing goodnight to the children. That was the life she dreamed of—not something grand or royal, not this overwhelming existence.

She bit her lip softly, forcing herself not to dwell too deeply on it. She needed to be strong—now more than ever. People would watch her every move; she could not afford to show weakness.

Just then, a soft knock came at the door. A maid entered quietly. "Lady Roselina, it’s time to go."

Rose nodded silently and followed the maid, her steps light but steady. They walked through the long hallway, the soft echo of their footsteps bouncing off the polished floors. Rose moved with the grace she had been taught—back straight, chin lifted, eyes focused. Every step was poised, every movement controlled. She was the picture of elegance and composure—confident, yet pure. A lady in every sense, just as they had trained her to be.

"Trained to be fake," she muttered to herself. She felt the maid slow her steps—and no denying it, the lady must have heard her.

"Tch. Rose, what did I warn you about voicing your thoughts? There is a thin line between you and madness," her thoughts screamed at her.

She moved quietly, her heart thudding loudly in her chest as she walked alongside the lady and the maid. Finally, they stopped in front of a massive door. No one needed to explain that this was the main hall—in the castle—where grand occasions took place.

Though she had never been invited here before, coming from a poor family, Roselina wasn’t surprised. This place was reserved only for the wealthy and powerful. She wouldn’t be shocked to see unfamiliar faces—faces she wasn’t used to at all.

The lady spoke softly, "Lady Roselina when the time comes, this door will open, and you will enter. Please stay here and wait." She bowed respectfully before leaving.

Roselina stood alone, her mind swirling. Not long after, the maid returned, carrying a bouquet of white flowers that perfectly matched her gown. The flowers were breathtaking—beautiful beyond words. Roselina loved flowers deeply, and seeing these so magnificent caught her completely off guard.

But how come she did not know these? She could argue with someone for a full day about flowers and was sure she knew all about them. But this one? She hadn’t seen anything like it before—not even in the research books she read at the local library as well.

The lady’s voice broke through her thoughts again, "Lady Roselina, the door will open any moment now."

Suddenly, she realized she had almost forgotten—her wedding day was in seconds—because she had been so distracted by the flowers.

A soft creak sounded as the grand door began to open.

Her fingers trembled slightly as the grand doors finally opened. A soft, serene melody of violin and piano floated through the air, signaling the bride’s entrance. Roselina stepped forward, her steps slow and graceful as she began to walk down the long aisle of the grand hall.

Every eye turned toward her. Seated throughout the hall were kings, queens, princes, princesses, and high-ranking officials—people of power and influence. It was a rare and extravagant gathering, hosted by none other than King Zethan. After all, he had never once spoken of marriage, and many had believed he never would. So when the announcement came, it was met with disbelief. And now, seeing that the bride was not a princess from any known kingdom, not someone of noble birth, but rather an unknown commoner—Roselina—they stared in utter shock.

Some eyes widened, stunned by her beauty. Others squinted with silent judgment, thinking, She’s no one special. Why should we care? But they all knew that now—now that she was to become Zethan’s wife—everything about her would change. Her title, her status, her entire life.

Roselina could feel the weight of every gaze, heavy and unwelcome. She hated the attention. But still, she kept walking, even as her heart pounded louder with every step. Her eyes fell on the figure standing at the end of the aisle. Her gaze trailed from his polished shoes upward, slowly, until their eyes met—her eyes met those dark, soulless orbs of his—and for some unknown reason, her heart stuttered.

Time seemed to pause.

Their eyes locked.

Her heartbeat roared in her chest, and for a moment, her steps faltered. But she pushed forward, each step carrying her closer to the man who had taken her world and reshaped it.

She stopped in front of him.

And there it was—that smirk. The same one he wore when he called her a bunny back in the garden. That same smug look that made her blood boil then—and still did now.

Rose could see it clearly now—the subtle glint of jealousy in many of the eyes watching her. She could feel it in the tension that lingered in the air. So many had wished for their daughters to marry King Zethan. For years, noble families had dreamed of aligning their bloodlines with his, hoping to gain power, prestige, and the favor of the crown. And now, here she was—a commoner, unknown, uninvited to their world—standing in the very place they all coveted.

And then, the hall fell into a hush as the priest stepped forward, his voice echoing with solemn grace.

"We are gathered here today in the presence of noble blood and sacred witness, to unite His Majesty, and Lady Roselina, in the sacred bond of matrimony. Upon the sealing of this union, Lady Roselina shall ascend as Queen—Queen to the realm, Queen to its people, and Queen to the heart of its sovereign."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room, then continued with ritualistic reverence.

"Before we proceed with the sacred vows, tradition calls for this moment: Should any soul here, noble or otherwise, hold reason why this union must not come to pass, speak now, or forever remain in silence before the crown."