The groom stumbled backward.

Not because the bride was frightening.

Because he knew her.

The woman beneath the helmet stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

He whispered her name.

“Elena?”

The king’s smile disappeared.

The bride’s lips trembled.

“You remember me.”

The groom could barely breathe.

Elena had been the servant girl he loved years earlier.

The girl who vanished the night he was forced to leave the kingdom.

“They told me you were dead.”

Her eyes shifted toward the king.

“He wanted you to believe that.”

The guests began whispering.

The groom turned slowly.

“You said she was your daughter.”

The king tightened his jaw.

“She is.”

Elena reached beneath the wooden helmet and removed a tiny pendant.

The groom recognized it instantly.

He had given it to her before they were separated.

Her voice broke.

“My mother was a servant.”

The cathedral went still.

“And my father was the king.”

The groom looked between them, stunned.

Elena wiped one tear from her cheek.

“He hid me because a servant’s daughter could never inherit his crown.”

The king lowered his eyes.

The groom looked at the ridiculous wooden helmet again.

“So why show her now?”

Elena answered before her father could.

“Because he’s dying.”

She lifted the tiny crown hidden beneath the helmet.

“And tomorrow…”

Her eyes locked on the groom.

“…I become queen.”