Savannah

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over my cluttered office. Papers were strewn everywhere, a half-empty coffee cup perched precariously on a stack of wedding magazines. I leaned back in my squeaky chair, massaging my temples, trying to block out the news droning in the background.

"…first glimpse of the Ciigarian ambassador's daughter during her visit to Hollywood last night."

I glanced at the screen, where shaky footage showed a slender figure draped in shimmering robes that morphed between deep purple and azure. Her face was hidden by an ornate veil, but the way she carried herself screamed alien royalty.

I rolled my eyes. Media frenzy over an alien sighting? Please. Aliens were as common as Starbucks these days, even if we still didn't fully get them. They walked among us, but their ways? Total mystery.

A soft chime from my computer snapped me back to reality. New email. Probably another bride in full meltdown mode over colors or some other drama. I clicked it open, skimming through with practiced efficiency.

Then I stopped cold.

This wasn't a consultation request. It was a summons, an imperious demand to handle a wedding for a wealthy family. The kicker? It was from a family of Draen, wanting me to come all the way to Teloril.

The language was so archaic and commanding, it left zero room for refusal.

But the wedding date… I blinked. In less than two weeks?

I stared at the screen, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Then, a wry smile tugged at my lips. How many times had I dreamed of this? A chance to break free from the mundane, to really test my skills?

My finger hovered over the reply button, doubts flooding my mind. Did I even want this anymore? Year after year, I poured my heart into creating dream weddings, only to watch so many end in ugly divorces. Couples who once gazed at each other with undying love now couldn't stand the sight of one another.

Did love really last? Or was it just a fleeting high that inevitably crashed?

I exhaled slowly, squaring my shoulders. This was the challenge I needed, the cosmic curveball to shake me out of my rut. Teloril awaited, with its alien traditions and customs.

With a decisive click, I hit the acceptance button. No turning back now.

Game on.