Forbiddenly Bound To You
Chapter 151: The Royal Entrance

The makeup artist worked deliberately, each stroke purposeful and precise. When she finally finished, she gestured for Mira to stand. Mira admired her reflection, marveling at how smooth and radiant her face appeared. It was as though she glowed effortlessly, even without the makeup—though the makeup added a touch of polished beauty. Mira smiled softly, feeling a sense of pride in how everything had come together. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. A deep sense of calm washed over her, a brief moment of peace before the bustling events ahead.

Next came the dress. The lady who had been helping her stepped forward, carefully assisting Mira as she slipped into a stunning royal blue gown with a subtle silver sheen. It was breathtaking—perfectly fitting for a queen. The gown matched perfectly with her silver shoes, hairpins, necklace, earrings, and bracelets. Everything was coordinated to perfection, creating an air of understated sophistication. The shimmering hues of blue and silver gave off an ethereal aura, and the dress moved fluidly as Mira did, enhancing her grace.

The gown was long and elegant, with two slits that added a hint of allure while remaining tasteful. Its fitted design hugged Mira’s curves perfectly, emphasizing her figure without being overly revealing. Modest yet striking, the dress captured the essence of refined beauty. Mira glanced at herself one last time, appreciating how everything about the look reflected her confidence, the years of hardships, and the triumphs that had led her to this moment.

When Mira was ready, she stepped out of her room, feeling the soft fabric of her dress brush against her skin. She made her way toward her daughter’s chamber. The anticipation of seeing Zemi in her gown filled her heart with warmth. She had seen the little one earlier, but the thought of seeing her all dressed up, ready to join her in the grand hall, made Mira’s heart swell with pride. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she walked down the hallway, her steps measured and elegant, the anticipation growing with each movement.

Upon entering, she was greeted by a delightful sight—her beautiful daughter was dressed in a gown identical to hers. The only difference was that while Mira’s dress was a sleek, body-hugging design, her daughter’s gown was a puffy, princess-style dress with a flared, rounded skirt. It suited her perfectly, giving her the appearance of a tiny royal. Mira couldn’t hold back her smile, taking in the sight of her daughter, who looked every bit like a little princess, her innocence and charm radiating from her.

Her hair had been styled simply yet elegantly, befitting her young age. There was something so captivating about the way her daughter carried herself—her unspoken elegance, untainted by the complexities of the world. When little Zami saw her mother, she squealed with delight and ran to her, throwing her arms around Mira in a tight hug. Mira laughed softly, kneeling down to embrace her, feeling her heart warm at the affectionate gesture.

"Mommy?" Zami asked softly, looking up at her mother with bright, curious eyes, her voice tinged with a hint of innocence and wonder.

Mira smiled warmly, her heart swelling with love for her precious girl. "Yes, Princess Zami."

Hearing the affectionate title, Zami’s face lit up with a radiant smile, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. She twirled slightly in her dress, then paused as if remembering something. "Mommy, did I do well?" she asked, a mix of excitement and nervousness in her voice, her little hands clasped in front of her as if waiting for her mother’s approval.

Mira’s eyes softened as she knelt to Zami’s level. "Of course, you did excellently well," she reassured her, her voice gentle yet filled with pride.

Though Mira hadn’t expected Zami to display such poise, it touched her heart deeply. Zami had never taken formal lessons on how to carry herself as a princess, given her young age. Yet, it was clear she had already begun observing and learning on her own, taking after her mother in ways Mira hadn’t expected. The thought that Zami could already exhibit such grace filled Mira with a sense of pride that words couldn’t describe. In a way, it was a reflection of everything she had worked for, everything she had endured and fought through to bring this little one into a life of privilege and security.

"Where did you learn that?" Mira asked, her curiosity piqued as she looked into her daughter’s eyes.

Zami giggled and replied, "The lady who came to help with my dress showed me. I thought I could do the same." There was a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she spoke, as if proud of her little accomplishment.

Mira chuckled softly and gently pinched her daughter’s cheeks. "You’re such a clever little girl," she said fondly, her heart overflowing with love. Though Zami’s actions were innocent, Mira couldn’t help but feel proud of her intelligence and eagerness to learn, even at such a young age. It was a reminder of how much she had already taught her, just by being herself—strong, intelligent, and full of warmth.

Standing side by side, Mira and Zami looked like a perfect pair, both dressed in royal blue gowns. Zami suddenly looked up at her mother, her small face full of curiosity and wonder. "Where is Daddy?"

Mira smiled, her heart swelling with love for both of them. "He’ll be here any moment now."

Almost as if on cue, Zamian entered the room. His imposing figure filled the doorway as he walked in, his regal presence undeniable. He was dressed in a matching royal blue suit, perfectly complementing his wife and daughter. The suit’s deep hues shimmered in the light, enhancing the authoritative yet gentle aura that surrounded him. Zamian was everything a king should be: commanding, yet protective; regal, yet compassionate. His height seemed even more pronounced in the elegant attire, and the warmth in his eyes softened his otherwise commanding presence.

He walked over to them with a proud smile, his gaze settling on his wife and daughter, pride gleaming in his eyes. Zamian gently pulled both Mira and Zami into a warm embrace, his arms enveloping them in protection and love. Mira sighed softly in contentment, feeling the steadiness of his touch and the security that came with it. For all the challenges they had faced, this moment—this family—was the one constant that gave her strength.

"We’ll enter the hall together," Zamian said, his deep voice calm and reassuring, the authority in it unmistakable yet filled with tenderness.

As they walked toward the large doors leading to the grand hall, Mira felt a flicker of nervousness. The air around her seemed to tighten with the weight of the occasion, the momentousness of it all sinking in. She wasn’t sure what to expect once they entered the hall, but she knew one thing for certain—she wasn’t alone. Zamian’s steady presence beside her and the warmth of Zami’s little hand in hers gave her the courage to face whatever awaited them. She didn’t have to be strong for just herself; she was strong for her family, for everything they had built together.

The grand doors loomed ahead, and as they approached, Mira’s heart rate quickened. Her nerves started to get the best of her, but Zamian, sensing her unease, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. His gaze met hers, and without a word, his presence calmed her. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. No matter the challenges, they could face anything as long as they stood united.

A trumpet sounded, signaling the arrival of the king, queen, and princess. At that moment, the grand doors swung open, revealing the vast hall filled with noble attendees. Mira held her breath as the crowd turned toward them. The room fell silent as everyone bowed deeply to welcome the royal family. The grandeur of the hall, the sea of people, the hushed whispers—all of it overwhelmed her. Yet, in that moment, Mira felt her strength. This was her time, her moment to shine alongside her family.

Taking a deep breath, Mira stepped into the hall alongside her husband and daughter. This moment marked her official ascension as queen. The weight of the title settled on her shoulders, but it didn’t feel heavy—not with Zamian by her side, not with Zami’s tiny hand holding onto hers.

As they entered the grand hall, little Zami’s eyes widened with awe. Her face lit up with a shy smile as she waved delicately at the crowd. The attendees couldn’t help but react to her charm—some giggled at her cuteness, others squealed at how adorable she looked. The innocence and purity of her presence brightened the room, and it was as if time slowed for a moment, allowing her to bask in the spotlight as the royal princess she was.

Mira’s gaze swept over the vast sea of faces. She was astounded by the sheer number of people in attendance. Whispers filled the room—some expressing admiration for how beautiful Zami was, others marveling at Mira’s own elegance. Many seemed surprised that Zamian was married and even had a child. Among the crowd, there were faces filled with admiration, others with curiosity, and a few with jealousy. Mira felt their eyes on her, but she didn’t falter. With Zamian and Zami beside her, she could face whatever came next.

Finally, Mira, Zamian, and little Zami reached the seats reserved for them. Zamian took his place in the center, while Mira sat to his right. Little Zami, perched on a smaller, intricately polished seat beside her mother, looked every bit the young princess she was. These seats, regal and majestic, were meant only for the king, queen, and princess.

As the murmurs in the hall subsided, Zamian rose to his feet. The room fell completely silent as his commanding presence filled the space.

Before he could continue, an advisor by his side stepped forward and spoke, "The people of Horten are ready to listen, Your Majesty." Though the hall was already quiet, the advisor’s words seemed to reinforce the solemnity of the moment.

It was then that Mira realized something she hadn’t known before: the name of Zamian’s kingdom was Horten. The weight of that revelation settled in her mind as Zamian began his address, the grandeur of the moment fully sinking in.