Page 491 of Reign

“You should have brought an ophthalmologist.”

Luciano kisses my temple, entirely unrepentant.

“Be good, princesa.”

Chapter 67

Luciano

The church is exactly as beautiful as I told Elena it would be.

This is inconvenient.

She stops a few steps inside the nave, tilting her face toward the vaulted ceiling. Sunlight filters through stained glass and spills color across the stone floor. Dark wood curves along the pews and confessionals. Gold details catch between carved columns, restrained enough to look reverent instead of gaudy.

The entire place smells like incense, old stone, and polished wood.

Elena turns slowly beneath the colored light. “It’s actually really beautiful in here.”

I look at her. “Don’t tell me you want to get married in a church now.”

“I said it’s beautiful.”

“The invitations say garden.”

“I know what the invitations say. I approved them too.” Her gaze travels toward the altar. “But you weren’t wrong about the architecture. It’s gorgeous.”

“I’ll notify my mother that she has won half an argument.”

Elena smiles. “She’ll claim the entire thing.”

She will.

We came here to humor mamá for one hour. We will admire the architecture, meet the priest, and return to the estate where our wedding is already being constructed across half my property.

That was the agreement.

Still, I let myself look.

The church is beautiful. Quiet in a way very few places are. Even the muted sound of Elena’s heels against the stone seems absorbed by the height of the ceiling. I can understand why my mother wanted us to see it.

Then Elena slips her hand into mine, and for one second, I imagine her walking toward me through all this colored light.

No.

The garden is decided.

I’ve survived the seating chart, the florist, and three separate conversations about linen. We’re not starting again.

Movement near the far wall draws my attention.

One of the wooden confessionals opens, and a woman steps out.

She’s young. Blonde. Her blue, flowing dress attempts to look soft and expensive, but the material catches the light with the unmistakable shine of something manufactured cheaply.

Elena leans closer to me. “That is definitely some kind of polyester blend. I would love to style her shape better.”

I press my lips together.