Chapter 8 - The Shield of White Flowers
Without breaking eye contact with Rodrigo, Valentina slowly and deliberately bent down. The heavy silk and lace of her ruined dress rustled softly with the movement, the dark wine stain folding in on itself.
She reached the polished floor and picked up her bridal bouquet. It had fallen from her hands during the initial shock, lying abandoned near the altar steps. She stood back up, straightening her spine until her posture was flawless. She held the bouquet close to her chest, right over her heart. It looked almost like a shield, a barrier of pure white against the hostility of the room.
She looked directly at Rodrigo, capturing the exact moment his eyes dropped in shame, and then shifted her gaze to the smug Élida.
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"I am leaving," she announced, her voice ringing with an iron-clad finality. "And I am leaving with my head held high."
She didn't wait for a response. She didn't look back at the altar. She simply turned her back on the Cabrales family, clutching her floral shield, and fixed her eyes on the massive oak doors at the far end of the cathedral.
