It’s a logistical nightmare to load me, my veil, and my dress into the back of the sedan, but we finally manage it. My father climbs in next to me, Richard climbs in the driver’s seat, Michael climbs in the passenger seat, and then we’re off.

There’s one SUV of agents in front of us and one behind us as we round the corner of the barricade and start down the tree-lined driveway to the main gate. It opens as soon as we approach, prompting cheers from the crowd assembled on either side of the street, straining against the metal barricades lining the edges of the road. I wave as soon as we come into sight, shocked to see the crowds continue along the entirety of the road. I look over at my father to find him already smiling at me.

It takes ten minutes to arrive at the stone cathedral where I’ll be getting married. The crowds are even larger here than they were at the palace. All sound is muffled by the car’s thick exterior, so it’s a shock when my father’s door is opened and the roar of noise inundates the car. My father circles the car, waving at the people packed behind the barricades.

My door is opened. I grasp my father’s hand as I rearrange the white material I’m surrounded with and step out of the car. Somehow, a new decibel is reached as I straighten outside the sanctuary of the car, glancing behind me to ensure my train has followed.

Shouts fill the air and hundreds of shutters click as I smile and wave at the assembled audience. I shift my grip to my father’s arm, and we begin the walk to the front doors of the church. Joan appears to hand me a bouquet of flowers for the second time in this spot. This time, I don’t drop them.

We enter the church. The heavy wooden doors are shut behind us, muffling the sound of the crowds outside. The two of us pause in the lobby, alone again, waiting for our cue to enter.

“I’m really glad you’re here, Papa,” I tell my father. I mean more than just physically, and he knows it.

“Me too,” my father replies. “I love you, Vivvi.” A single tear rolls down his cheek.

I squeeze his arm twice. “I love you too, Papa,” I reply, my throat tightening.

Despite the upheaval it’s caused in my life, I’m suddenly grateful for the marriage law. It’s the only reason I’m allowed this moment. Without it, I wouldn’t have met Jace. My father might never have been able to walk me down the aisle.

I study the patterns carved in the oak doors that lead to the inside of the cathedral as the music shifts, signaling our cue to enter. The old wood creaks as two attendants open them from the other side.

The hundreds of people seated inside the ancient church rise in unison as I step inside, clutching my father’s arm with one hand and my bouquet with the other. The aisle is long, stretched to accommodate the dozens of pews that hold the dignitaries, ambassadors, politicians, and royalty attending this event, along with the more traditional family and friends.