Vampire's Veil Of Obsession-Chapter 154: Wedding

The hall fell silent—no one dared to speak. That silence alone confirmed it: the wedding would go on.

A small smirk played on Zethan’s lips. He knew exactly why no one objected, despite the many unspoken reasons they had to protest the marriage. It wasn’t that people lacked objections—they had plenty. Some were shocked that King Zethan would actually allow himself to marry a commoner. Others were bitter, having rooted for brides from noble lineages. In fact, several kingdoms had even gone so far as to secretly wager which of their daughters would become Zethan’s queen. The reason for no objection was because of Zethan.

Now, they were left in utter disbelief. Not a single one of their daughters had won his heart. Instead, the woman beside him came from a low-class home... and she didn’t even have a mother—she was dead.

Zethan stood as the king he was. His silver hair framed his face, and his outfit—a sleek black royal suit embroidered with silver accents—gave him the air of a monarch who needed no crown to be recognized.

He remained silent as the priest spoke, his gaze fixed intently on her. He could tell she was lost in thought, her eyes distant, her expression unreadable.

Meanwhile, Rose stood there, her heart pounding in her chest. Her emotions swirled in confusion. Was it that commoners had no voice in this matter? Even if the Seer had foreseen this union, couldn’t she have declined it quietly? What if she didn’t want this? Why did it feel like everything the Seer said had to be obeyed without question? What if it went against her will?

But what could she say now?

She was already standing at the altar, in front of a grand hall filled with watching eyes, as her wedding neared its final vow.

Then, the priest’s voice rang out clearly:

"Lady Roselina, do you take King Zethan to be your lawfully wedded husband and king?"

The room fell into a heavy silence. Every eye turned to her. She stared at Zethan, her gaze locking onto his dark crimson eyes. Something flickered there—an emotion. It was the first time she’d seen anything like it from him. But what was it? Was she imagining it?

And then she heard herself speak: "Yes."

Her eyes widened slightly in disbelief. Had she just said that?

No. That couldn’t be. Had he cast a spell on her? Was it possible to be so caught up in his gaze that the words slipped from her mouth before she realized it?

The priest smiled gently and turned to Zethan.

"King Zethan, do you take Lady Roselina to be your lawfully wedded wife and queen?"

Without hesitation, Zethan nodded. "Yes."

And before Rose could even begin to process what had just happened, the priest continued the ceremony.

Before Rose could fully grasp what was happening, Zethan stepped forward and gently lifted her veil. His movements were deliberate yet soft, almost reverent. Then, without a word, he leaned in and kissed her.

It was fleeting—so brief that if anyone asked, Rose would have called it no more than a peck. Yet, in that moment, it felt as if his lips had brushed straight against her heart. Despite its brevity, the kiss left something behind—something she couldn’t quite name but certainly felt.

She couldn’t believe it—she had just given her first kiss to a man she barely knew.

And then, as if on cue, the crowd erupted into applause. But it wasn’t the chaotic kind of clapping one might expect. It was melodic—soft, yet loud. The rhythm was so synchronized, it felt rehearsed, almost ceremonial. If Rose had to describe it, she’d say it was the kind of applause trained into people who were used to living under the rigid expectations of royalty.

To her, being part of royalty felt less like a privilege and more like a punishment. Among the commoners, things were simpler. But in the palace, everything was governed by image, tradition, and standards she never asked to meet.

The priest’s voice rang out again.

"I now declare you husband and wife—King and Queen."

Another round of that same soft, eerie applause followed. How they managed to clap like that, Rose didn’t know. All she knew was that it was perfectly in sync, perfectly timed, and utterly foreign to her.

Then, Zethan lifted his hand. Instinctively, Rose placed her own on top of his. His hand was large and warm, and the moment her skin touched his, a shockwave rippled through her. Her heart began to thud uncontrollably, her face flushing with heat.

’What is wrong with you, Rose? Why are you acting like this?’ she scolded herself, but who could blame her?

She had never truly been close to any man before. Well—except Fedrick. And the most he had ever done was give her a side hug. That day, she’d blushed so much that her father asked if she was running a fever. She had rolled around her bed all night, smacking her forehead in embarrassment, cheeks hot with something she couldn’t name. If someone had seen her that day, they’d have mistaken it for a fever rather than... something else.

But this—this was something else.

Then Zethan began to lead her toward the center of the grand hall. And Rose knew exactly what came next.

The first dance—between the King and his new Queen.

The hall hummed with the gentle weave of violins and piano as the musicians slipped into a slow, melodic waltz. Rose took a steadying breath, repeating the lessons drilled into her: shoulders back, chin lifted, follow his lead. It felt nothing like practice; now, the entire hall stared at her every move.

She reminded herself: You’re the queen—this is a duty if not a job.

Zethan guided her to the center of the hall. The chandelier candles glowed, and a respectful hush settled over the crowd as the first dance began. His hand settled at her waist, warm and sure, and they eased into the rhythm together. Rose focused on his steps, avoiding his eyes—until a soft chuckle vibrated.

"What’s amusing, Your Majesty?" she muttered, irritation pricking her composure.

"Scared?" he teased, his amusement almost audible.

"Oh, Your Majesty, I’m not scared." She forced calm into her voice, even though the chilling aura of this man was undeniably there. His gaze—all of it—screamed danger. "I’m concentrating on our footwork."

He twirled her effortlessly, then drew her closer, stealing her breath. "Don’t take life so seriously, my queen," he whispered. "You’ll age faster than you already have."

The jab stole her footing, but Zethan steadied her. Another chuckle. "See? Taking it seriously again."

"Your Majesty," she warned, "I advise you not to cross the line."

"Bunny, what line do I have to cross when we are now one? What’s your name?" he asked, even though he knew it. He wanted to hear it from her lips.

"My name is Roselina Smith," she said curtly. "My friends call me Rose." She instantly regretted adding that.

"Rose," he repeated softly.

She stiffened, the word rolling off his tongue so silkily sweet that her heart skipped. "As I said, Your Majesty, only my close friends—"

"But I’m your husband," he murmured. "Surely that makes me more than a close friend."

She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to roll her eyes—her father always said her face spoke before her tongue, and it seemed that was true.

"You don’t have to be afraid," Zethan coaxed. "Whatever’s on your mind, speak."

She drew a breath. "If I may ask, Your Majesty, is the consummation truly necessary tonight? I married you to become queen, as the Seer decreed."

He laughed, low and knowing. "It seems they haven’t told you everything. Let me explain why we’re married."

He pulled her closer—so close her pulse stuttered.

"The main reason for our marriage," he said, "is an heir."

Rose swallowed, keeping her poise. "Your Majesty, I have no objection to you taking mistresses, even siring an heir with one." But just as those words left her lips, why did it feel like she should take them back? Just why?

He chuckled deeply. "But you’re my wife. A wedding night is meant for consummation. Tell me, is your reluctance because of him?"

Her step faltered once more, but Zethan was always a step ahead. "Because of... who?"

"Your lover," Zethan said, eyes glinting. "Is that why you hesitate?"

Zethan became even more intrigued. So many people dreamed of a life like this—wealth, power, status—and yet this lady, this woman standing before him, seemed burdened by it all. Because of her so-called lover? He found himself unexpectedly curious. Who was this man—this lover—who could make his own wife appear so withdrawn, so hesitant? Not to mention, she was choosing a guard over a king.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "If I may ask... this lover of yours—what is his name?"

Rose’s eyes widened. Her voice was soft but firm. "Your Majesty, I’m afraid I cannot tell you."

She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. Zethan studied her, the corner of his mouth twitching. Then he spoke, his voice lower and colder now.

"We are married now. And cheating, my queen, carries punishments." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Our consummation still stands. Tonight."

Then Zethan spoke quietly—so quietly that his words sent a shiver curling down Rose’s spine.

"Oh?" he murmured, his voice laced with something darker. "Are you saying this because you’re still a virgin... and you want your first time to be with this lover of yours?"

His expression darkened slightly, and before Rose could answer, he spun her with practiced ease.

A slow, daring smile tugged at her lips as she met his gaze. "Oh, Your Majesty, you must be mistaken," she said, her voice smooth. "I’m no virgin. In fact, I have a great deal of experience."

She leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming with challenge. "I hope you’re into experienced women, because I’m the best of them all. I trust that won’t be a problem for you... Your Majesty."

Her words hung in the air like perfume, and for the first time, Zethan’s eyes widened—an expression of genuine surprise flickering across his otherwise unreadable face.