Chapter 1091: Wedding (2) Pick Up the Bride

Manuel glanced at Susan and Oscar's past chat history. Susan had secretly sent Oscar a photo of Besse and Doyle being affectionate. Manuel was speechless; Susan’s childishness could easily incense Oscar.

“Okay, it’s getting late. Let’s go to bed,” Manuel said.

“Oscar hasn’t replied yet,” Susan said, a little annoyed.

Manuel glanced at her. A reply would have been unusual. He silently took her phone, silencing it and dimming the lights, then held her close until she fell asleep faster than he expected. Her even breathing soon filled the room, and Manuel smiled, holding her tightly as he drifted off.

On their second day in Jolencami, Susan, dragging Manuel along, joined medical staff on a tour of the capital. Their sightseeing continued into the third day—the royal prince’s wedding.

The streets were adorned with flowers, lights, and streamers in celebration. Susan woke early, her excitement keeping her awake—a stark contrast to her usual difficulty waking. Manuel insisted she eat breakfast before they went to Besse’s.

The Jolencami wedding ceremony, while sharing some similarities with Northfield customs, differed in others. Like other weddings, the groom would pick up the bride, but with fewer formalities. The royal procession would parade through the streets, receiving blessings before the grand palace ceremony.

Many people were already at Besse's house, mostly her staff. Besse, an orphan with no family, was still applying makeup. She greeted Susan with a simple hello, but Susan, captivated, wandered around the room. Manuel, unexpectedly, ignored her, occasionally checking his phone as if awaiting a message.

It was 8:00 AM. Besse, assisted by her staff, rose from her dressing table.

“Wow!” everyone exclaimed.

Besse was stunning. Her wedding dress, a unique blend of Jolencami ethnic elements and royal symbolism, was elegant and ethereal, lacking the heaviness of traditional gowns.

Susan was speechless; it was the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen, undoubtedly Doyle’s creation.

Besse, under the many gazes, felt shy. Doyle had spent considerable time designing the dress, making numerous revisions with his assistants’ help. Even upon its unveiling, it moved Besse deeply, reinforcing her feelings for him.

“Besse, seeing you in your wedding dress… it’s like seeing Hannah again,” Susan said, her eyes welling up. Though their faces were dissimilar, Susan felt a strong connection to Besse, reminiscent of Hannah’s wedding years ago.

Besse wiped Susan’s tears. “You can think of me as her.”

“No way,” Susan firmly refused. “No one can replace her.”

Besse smiled; most would have been offended by such a blunt statement, but Susan’s honesty was evident.

“What time will Doyle arrive?” Manuel asked, appearing beside Susan and embracing her.

A loud voice announced, “Prince Doyle has arrived!” Excitement filled the room.

Manuel pursed his lips; ten minutes remained. Then, Doyle, in a black suit, entered with an imposing presence. He strode to Besse, knelt, presented a bouquet, and said, “Besse, I’m here.”

Besse, smiling, accepted the bouquet. As Doyle rose to take her away, someone shouted, “Kiss her!” The room echoed with the request.

Doyle, looking at Besse’s blushing face, leaned close. “Just a peck,” he murmured. Besse nodded, and he gently kissed her cheek before preparing to leave.

“Wait,” Manuel interrupted loudly. Susan stared at him, confused.

“Besse is our friend. Give us some reassurance before you take her away,” Manuel stated confidently.

Susan frowned. Was he mad? Did he not see Doyle’s love for Besse?

Doyle, surprised, but happy, replied, “I will cherish Besse and love her forever.” Applause followed.

“How can we trust that?” Manuel pressed.

Susan wanted to stop him; he was causing trouble again.

“Words aren’t enough. Let’s sign some papers,” Manuel suggested.

Silence. Manuel, it seemed, had truly lost his mind.