Three days had passed faster than Aveloria expected, almost as if the kingdom itself understood that something significant was about to happen. Lycanthria had never been this busy. Every noble house within the borders and even those from distant territories sent representatives. Inns were filled. The markets were full. People were talking about only one thing—Aveloria accepting her mates publicly.
She had tried to keep the ceremony small. She even went to her father's study two days earlier to ask him to cut down the guest list. She explained again that it wasn't her wedding, only the official declaration that she was accepting her fated mates and would be bonded to them in due time. But as usual, Alaric had already made his decision. He wanted the entire nobility present. He believed it strengthened the throne. He wanted witnesses. He wanted everyone to understand that his daughter was stepping fully into her destiny.
So the ceremony became large.
