Eleanor held the wedding invitation in her hands, a smile of relief spreading across her face as she read the name of the bride. Peterson, the middle child of the family, was finally getting his heart's desire. The wedding was a spectacle fit for a fairy tale, set on a night where the moonlight spilled across the castle's lawn, illuminating the grandeur within. Inside, the celebration of the century was unfolding. Peterson, the groom, stood tall and handsome in a tailor-made black tuxedo, a white rose pinned to his lapel, his gaze fixed on the bride with eyes brimming with love.

Starry, the bride, was radiant in a white gown that seemed to be worth a kingdom's ransom, adorned with countless sparkling diamonds that glittered under the lights like a constellation brought to earth. The venue was packed with guests from around the globe, the air buzzing with lively chatter, the scent of fine cuisine, and the clink of wine glasses-a perfect night in every way.

As the string quartet played a melodious tune, Peterson took Starry's hand and led her to the altar. They exchanged rings, recited their vows, and then...

Peterson cradled the back of Starry's head and kissed her deeply, the kind of kiss that seemed to declare to the world the years of patient waiting.

After the kiss, he turned to the little flower girl beside them, Starry's daughter Beth, and said, "Do you accept me as your stepfather, Beth?"

Beth, who had grown up fearing the role of 'father' due to her own father's violence towards her and her mom, felt differently about Peterson. He had always been kind to her, discreetly slipping her money, visiting her at school.

She knew her "Uncle Peterson" cared for her mother, even if he wasn't good at showing it. Now that he was finally with her mom, she, as their daughter, naturally offered them her blessing. Under Peterson's steady hand, Beth nodded with a smile, "Then I'll start calling you 'Daddy' from now on."

Peterson's lips curled into a smile, his eyes shining with happiness as he shifted his gaze from Beth to Starry, whose face was streaked with tears. Gently cleaning her tears, he pulled her into his embrace... As they held each other, fireworks burst in the sky outside the castle, their brilliant colors illuminating the night, mingling with the moonlight and stars to cast a magical glow over the family of three at the altar. Beneath such a beautiful tapestry, Peterson, with one arm around Starry and the other holding Beth's hand, looked up at the night sky with his family. In that moment, he silently marveled at how steadfast love could really bring about the waiting heart's desire...

Eleanor, watching from the guests' area, also smiled through tears. The atmosphere made her cousin's long-awaited union with the woman he loved seem overwhelmingly touching. Bernard, a mountain of calm beside her, glanced at the fireworks but kept his eyes mostly on her. Seeing her cry, he couldn't help but chuckle, "You weren't this moved at my wedding."

Though he teased her with his words, his fingers tenderly cleaned her tears, his affectionate touch outshining even Peterson's display.

Eleanor grabbed a tissue, blew her nose, and looked up to retort, "As if you were so moved when we got married."

Their banter caught the attention of the most prominent local noble, who leaned in and asked, "Are you two on your second marriage?" Embarrassed, Eleanor lowered her head, but Bernard raised an eyebrow meaningfully and glanced at her, "Second marriage... hardly." The nobleman seemed puzzled, "So... a third marriage?"

With a protective gesture, Bernard pulled Eleanor close, "My only marriage."

The noble's gaze then turned to Eleanor, "And for you, a third?"

Her head nestled in Bernard's embrace, she couldn't quite lift it to respond, "Suppose so..."

Before the noble could inquire further, he met Bernard's stern gaze, enough to silence any more questions.

Eleanor patted the hand Bernard had around her waist, "Don't be so fierce, or you might upset the groom and cause a scene."

Bernard snorted dismissively, the look in his eyes as scornful as Damian's, who was seated beside them.

Damian's disdain, however, wasn't directed at the noble but at Serenina Ziegler, a restless twelve-year-old known as Nina. She was constantly summoning servers for more delicacies and drinks, munching and sipping away, all the while pestering Damian to join her.

Frustrated to the brink, Damian tried to leave several times but was always pushed back into his seat by Bernard's firm hand, "The wedding isn't over yet, sit tight."

Despite his father's strength, Damian could only slouch back, eagerly wishing for the ceremony to end.

But the wedding was only at the bouquet toss, with a photo session with the guests still to come. It was a long way from over. In Damian's moment of agony, little Beth stepped down from the altar... The bouquet toss had nothing to do with a young girl like her, so she returned to her seat among the guests, conveniently placed next to Nina.

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