SHK CH 762+ Medea Wedding dress art (Patreon)

The chapel fell into silence as Medea appeared at the doors, Ambrosia guiding her forward.

The moment he laid his eyes on her, Sol’s breathing stopped for a short moment.

Medea had changed. Greatly so. She stood taller now, her figure refined and elegant, every movement carrying quiet confidence. Though still not as tall as Sol, her height and bearing gave her a commanding grace.

Her long silver hair spilled in smooth waves down her back, gleaming under the chapel light like threads of moonlight. What drew every gaze, however, were her eyes—one a deep, burning red, the other a luminous gold. Together, they carried both danger and allure, as though they held two worlds within them.

All hesitation, fear, and worries vanished in an instant, and all that was left was a young man mesmerized by the first love of his life at her wedding dress.

For as long as anyone remembered, Medea had worn black robes, dresses, veils, shadows clinging to her form like armor. But today, clothed in white, her beauty struck even harder.

The dress Medea was wearing seemed simple at first glance, yet its craftsmanship and the materials used on it were in no way inferior to Sol’s robe.

White silk flowed around her in layered waves, each fold catching the sunlight and breaking it into faint colors.

The bodice fit close, trimmed with pale blue lace that traced her neckline and shoulders, soft against her skin but precise in detail. A satin ribbon of the same blue tied neatly at her waist, holding the shape of the gown as the skirt spread outward, wide and full, moving with each step like ripples across water.

In her hands, she carried a bouquet of pastel flowers bound with silk.

The veil framed her face in soft light, the gown flowing like water around her form. Nobles who once whispered doubts now held their breath, struck by her beauty.

Like this, under the stunned gazes of the assembly, she reached the altar, and Ambrosia released her hand before taking a few steps back.

Medea stopped beside him, and when their eyes met through the veil, the world shrank to only the two of them. Only the two of them understood how many obstacles, internal and external, they had to face before they were able to stand side by side in this place.

Medea in particular still felt befuddled. Deep down, she still wondered if this was some kind of dream. Perhaps she was still sleeping deep down in the Tower, wallowing in misery with nothing else to do.

But this was reality. A reality that not even her wildest dream could have ever conjured.

Sol was not faring much better than Medea.

His hand twitched slightly at his side, an unconscious urge to reach out for her. He forced it still, but the weight in his chest only grew.

He had faced goddesses without blinking, threatened country leaders, and even fought in a battlefield full of demigods, and But now, with Medea standing beside him, his throat felt dry

Camelia’s voice cut through the hush.

“The bride has arrived. Let all here bear witness.”

Camelia lowered her staff, her blind eyes resting on them both. A quiet feeling of happiness filled her heart. Though she was not standing at Sol’s side, this in no way diminished her feelings.

“One thousand years ago, witches and Humans, once allies, were separated. A Thousand years of bloodshed, a thousand years of hatred, and a thousand years of persecution will now be put to an end here and now with the union of the two people standing here.”

Her tone was solemn, unyielding.

“Before the Goddess, before this assembly, vows shall be spoken. Sol Dragona Luxuria. Crown Prince of Lustburg and Dragon Emperor, step forward and speak.”

All eyes turned to Sol. The air seemed to grow heavier, but not from his aura this time. It was the pressure of expectation, of history, of countless voices waiting to hear what he would declare.

Sol inhaled slowly, the edges of his nervousness softening as he looked at Medea again. Her presence anchored him. At that moment, the grand hall, the nobles, all of it receded.

All that was left was the woman he loved.

“Medea. Do you remember how this all started? Back then, not so long ago in fact, I was but an immature young man. No power to speak of and only bravado. I told you then that, though I could not understand your pain, I would help you.”

He gave a gentle smile and called her in an endearing way,

“Back then, you told me that you hated your cowardly self and that you were an empty person.”

Medea’s ears reddened. Memories of that day came back to her mind. A time that was indeed not so distant. Less than a year, in fact. For long-lived species like this, one year was not even a blip in their existence. Barely enough for a light nap. But for Medea, that one year was worth more than the preceding 999 years of existence.

It was amazing how much had changed in so little time.

“All I could say then was that I loved you despite all your possible defaults. Let me change this.”

He looked down,

“Be it then or now, you are the greatest person in this world for me. You are not flawless. You make mistakes, you can act clumsily, and you are sometimes very scatterbrained. All those small flaws constitute the woman I love.”

His smile grew.

“The Medea I know and love is not worthless, nor is she selfish. She is a gentle, sometimes awkward, woman. She was the guiding light in my life, and now she is the light I wish would shine beside me.”

Sol could see Medea’s eyes redden.

“I love you. Always had, always will, and not even Death can do us apart. This, I can promise with my immortal soul on the line.”

Medea lowered her head slightly, her veil trembling with the faintest motion. The red and gold of her eyes shimmered, blurred by the tears she tried to hold back.

For someone who had carried centuries of bitterness in silence, to hear such words spoken so openly before all… it pierced deeper than any blade ever could.

The chapel remained utterly still. Even the most cynical nobles could not scoff, not with the weight in Sol’s voice. His vow had not been lofty rhetoric about kingdoms or duty. It was raw and disarmingly human.

The words of a man madly in love.

Camelia raised her staff again, her expression unreadable, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. She turned slightly toward Medea.

“Medea Asmodeus, Witch Queen and Tutor of the Crown. Speak your vows.”

Medea’s fingers tightened around her bouquet, her chest rising and falling as she steadied herself. For most of her life, she had worn her armor in the form of silence and distance.

After being betrayed by the man she once loved, she fell into a swamp of negativity and depression.

Words had never been her strength. Still, before Sol, she found them.

When she spoke, her voice was soft but clear, carrying through the hushed chapel.

“Sol… When you first discovered the Gate to my hidden space, you brought with you a new wind of change. My own pitiful and cowardly self slowly withered and now I stand before you a changed woman.”

Her lips curved in the faintest smile as she continued, eyes shining behind the veil.

“I was empty when you found me. Hollowed by guilt, fear, and shame. But you… you filled that void. With your recklessness, your laughter, your stubbornness, and above all—your love. You gave me back the right to dream once again and to correct the mistakes of the past.”

Her hand loosened on the bouquet. She was now finding back her confidence. She knew how much Sol loved her. Still feeling fear at this point would be nothing but an insult to him.

“You say I am the greatest person for you. But for me, you are far more than this. You are my Sun. My Hero.”

She looked up, doing her best to keep the tears in.

“So I vow to walk beside you, even into the fire. To bear your burdens when you falter. To share in your light, and to give you mine when darkness surrounds you.”

At the end of her words, Medea lost the battle and a tear slipped past her veil, glittering in the chapel’s light.

“I love you, Sol. And I will always do so, until the End of all things and beyond.”