It is not everyday that a prince marries a common woman, one without the social standing to make the marriage seem valuable in the eyes of the public, but that's without taking into consideration all that led up to this moment. The palace is packed. The Royal Family has the best seats, followed closely by other nobility, until most of the palace hall is filled with civilians.

The Royal Family has offered spaces of honor for the bride's family, and they sit close, though not comfortably close at all. A blonde haired man with his hair pulled back is practically bouncing, anxious especially beside the two teenagers next to him. Both of which sit as if they've been training for this royal wedding for months.

Though the girl is slightly slouched, as if in slight rebellion or maybe she is perfectly at ease despite the rigidity that both fills up the room and seems far from it. It's an odd grouping, because normally royalty does not mingle so much with the commoners, alone with the Mountain Lions, but despite this it's a roughly calm though not comfortable group.

And then, there's movement. The prince is bouncing as he waits, one leg, nervous, despite itself. And his dark suit looks uncomfortable on him as if he's stuffed to the brim with tight, tight layers and too much warmth. Though it's probably nerves that are making Raji Shenazard practically bounce at the altar. And then, the doors open.

A brown haired man, looking somehow both pristine and comfortable in his dark suit is gently holding the arm of the bride in white. Her red hair is tied delicately behind her head, gently and almost entirely hidden beneath the veil that covers it. Dark white, not see through, as she'd requested for this wedding.

And her white dress moves delicately up her frame, flowers are swirled into the material as if quietly hinting at her favorite past time, the career that's kept her going all these years. And the dress is long, hiding even her ankles from view, though the people behind her hold the train up off the ground.

As Shirayuki walks forward, the room is quiet other than the soft piano music that plays. It's as if all voice had been stolen from the room just at the sight of her walking in, making what seemed like a dream, so surreal, into reality. Her father's smile is so slight that it's practically not there, as if he had to make peace with his daughter marrying the future king of Tanbarun.

"Shirayuki." Raji whispers when she's finally close enough to hear him, and his nervous leg quits its unsteady bouncing. "You look lovely." He doesn't mean to say the words really, and the tears in his eyes would be considering unsightly for a future king, but he can't help the wet eyes, not as his bride stands before him, looking more beautiful than any woman he's ever laid his eyes on.

"Thank you." She whispers back, her back a little tense, board straight, because there are all these eyes on her, and she's the bride at a royal wedding. Nerves are to be expected, but she hasn't figured out how to will them away. Just moments ago, her father of all people had been whispering reassurances to her, because after all these years, he knew who she loved.

Raji just smiles back, trying to figure out if wiping his eyes with his sleeves would cause too much commotion or tell anyone that he is crying right now. He knows he's supposed to be calm and regal, but he can't even manage that on a normal day, let alone his wedding day. He knows the only way he'd be anywhere near calm is if he wasn't utterly smitten with his bride.

And they are pulled into the priest's words, and even the crowd looks on, anticipating what comes next, leaning in as if they expect someone to back down or someone to interfere. And then finally almost quietly they vow to be by each other's side, to love each other through thick and thin, and it's only a little bit later, that they are finally allowed to end this part of the wedding with a kiss, relieved that no one tried to interject, to cut in and say that a commoner and the king was a bad idea.

And Raji still hasn't calmed his wet eyes down as he lifts the veil with trembling fingers and kisses his wife for the first time as a married couple, finally pledging by action rather than just words, his vows to her. And she responds, leaning up, pressing close, and two hearts are made warmer in front of an audience that both of them would have liked to be smaller.

Nerves are gone, and all that remains is a happy couple, that's already forgotten the crowd behind them.