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Chapter 10 - The Sovereign Bride

Two years later.

The morning sun broke over the rolling hills of my family's estate in Pennsylvania. White silk ribbons fluttered gently in the spring breeze, tied to simple wooden chairs set up on the emerald lawn.

There were no gilded mirrors, no country club snobs, and no high-society gossip. Surrounding the altar were two hundred people who actually loved us—fellow soldiers, childhood friends, family members, and veterans supported by our foundation.

Inside the farmhouse, I stood in front of a floor-length mirror, putting the finishing touches on my attire.

I wore a breathtaking, custom-made white lace gown, stitched with delicate pearl embroidery along the bodice. Pinned neatly over my left shoulder, right above my heart, was my Bronze Star with Valor, gleaming brightly under the morning light.

Sergeant First Class Jessica Reyes stepped up behind me, placing a delicate veil over my hair.

"You look like a absolute queen, Major Harvey," Jessica said, her eyes glistening with proud tears.

"Thank you, Jess," I smiled, looking at my reflection.

There was no fear in my eyes, no quiet desperation, no feeling of shrinking to fit into someone else's world. I was a decorated officer, a founder, a leader, and a woman who knew her worth.

The acoustic guitar began to play outside, floating through the open windows.

I stepped out of the farmhouse onto the green lawn, holding a bouquet of wild Pennsylvania wildflowers. At the end of the aisle stood Marcus Vance, wearing his sharp Army Dress Uniform, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. Standing beside him as his best man was General Thomas Vance, beaming with pure, unadulterated pride.

As I walked down the aisle under the warm spring sun, surrounded by the people who had stood by me through the darkest fire, I took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air.

I thought back to that burned dress on the marble floor in Charleston, to the cruel laughter of a woman who thought money could buy honor, and to the boy who was too weak to stand beside me.

They had tried to destroy me.

Instead, they had simply burned away everything holding me back, leaving behind a woman who was forged in fire, unshakeable, and finally home.

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Marcus took my hand at the altar, his fingers warm and strong, whispering three simple words that echoed in my heart forever:

"Welcome home, my love."

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