Finding the supposed location of where Isabella had been kept in Hortensia wasn't difficult. What was difficult was discovering that she was no longer there.

"Why do you care anyway?" asked Vincenzo, the only person near to what had recently been Isabella's room. "Last I recall, you told her to move on and insulted her."

"What?" I said. "The call I made to her amulet was the last time I talked to her. Remember that? I told her that I was coming for her, and that I'd be here to rescue her. And, look, here I am, but she's not here!"

"If that's what you said, that's not what we heard," the chef said.

I grumbled after realizing that the awful connection probably manipulated my words.

"It was the connection, I bet."

I sighed.

"Chef, she's the love of my life, why would I ever tell her to move on or insult her?" I paused. "Wait. I take back the insulting part, because she is quite bossy, as well as stubborn—"

"O'course," Vincenzo interrupted. "After all the chemistry the two of you had in the dungeons, I knew something was fishy about what you'd said. Regardless of your horrible kiss."

"Hey!" I said, offended.

"Plus," the chef continued, "the way she talked about you when she was held prisoner made me feel as though it was impossible that you didn't feel the same."

"…She talked about me?" I said, slightly smiling.

"It was all she ever spoke about. Galavant this, Galavant that. I miss Galavant, I love Galavant, he's my true love, I must escape so I can find Galavant, he's so—"

"Wait," I said. "Is that where she is? Did she escape to find me?"

"Well, she tried," the chef said. "But after she heard that you lost interest, she lost her motivation. Gave up. She was so torn apart that she went through with marrying her cousin."

"What?! They've already married?" I said, feeling my voice raising and my pulse quicken.

"Yes—well, no," Vincenzo said. "That's where she is now. At the wedding."

There was a tingling in my brain, and my vision was going slightly fuzzy. My pulse was extremely fast, my blood was boiling, and all I could see in my brain was the sight of my Isabella.

I grabbed the chef's shoulders and leaned down to his eye level with determination.

"Chef," I said. "You've got to tell me where the wedding is. Please."

He looked down, then shrugged, nodding.

"Very well. I'll take you. I just hope she forgives you."

I followed the chef out of Isabella's chamber and down a few flights of stairs. Shortly after we left, we were in front of a pair of large doors that led to a chapel.

"Here's your stop," the chef said.

"Thank you so much," I said, patting the chef's shoulder. Suddenly, my brows furrowed.

"Chef, what were you doing at the place where Isabella's been staying?"

Vincenzo raised his eyebrows.

"Oh," he said, flattening his peasant-like cap. "Well, um, I… I was… well—totally not taking dresses to give to Gwynne or anything—haha, whoops! Ha!" Shortly after he spoke, he ran from the chapel. I shrugged.

I gave a deep breath as I prepared to enter the chapel.

A part of me was afraid to open those doors. I'd done this before, when Madalena was to marry Richard. I'd come for her, I'd interfered, and she'd chosen him over me. Well, she didn't really choose him; she chose what he had to offer. Though he was only eleven, Harry had more to offer Isabella than me in terms of luxuries.

But this was different. I didn't truly know Madalena. But I know Izzy. I'm positive that I really know Izzy. I don't think she wants to do this. She just doesn't think she has any other option anymore.

With that in mind, I placed right hand on the right door, my left hand on the left door, and pushed.

The room was decorated in white with the occasional velvet drape on a window or a wall. Rows of seats were lined with people. Bright light shone into the room, giving it warmth. Though the ceremony in general was supposedly very adult-like, it felt like there was a childish glow of sorts—could have been Harry's presence, could have been the crayon doodles on the white walls—who could say for sure?

Standing atop the royal blue carpet that lined its way from the end of the room to the entrance was Harry as well as a suited man standing to his left. To the left of him was my love.

Isabella stood in a white gown that flowed along her body pretty loosely. Her hair was down, in beautiful waves that I hadn't ever the opportunity to drown in. Her hair was clipped out of her face with a sparkling hairclip bearing assorted jewels. Even if it was a wedding that I was sure she wished she wasn't at, she seemed to put quite some effort into her look. Frankly, I had never seen her look more beautiful.

I was too busy looking at her to notice that she was looking at me. Once I finally caught her expression, I couldn't really read it. It was similar to whatever you'd call a "deer-in-the-headlights" look. She seemed surprised. Or was that anger?

Well, whatever that look was wasn't going to stop me.

"Isabella," I said. I began running towards her. Nobody seemed to really mind. The entire room had already fallen silent upon my arrival.

It didn't take long for me to reach her. Once I did, I immediately held her elbows in both of my hands and held her against me.

"Isabella," I said again, starting to feel myself get lost in her deep brown eyes.

"Galavant," she said, a note of detectable disbelief in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to rescue you," I said, a smile crossing my face.

"But… I thought you wanted nothing to do with me—"

"The connection was bad," I said, sliding my hands down her forearms to reach her hands.

"…Gal…"

"Isabella, I love you," I said, a small smile still lingering on my face. "I fell in love with you long ago, and I've known since that I never want to live another day without you."

I could see a smile starting to pinch at the corners of her lips.

"I can take you out of here right now. We can go back to my village and live peacefully and happily, or we can go back to Valencia, or we can go on yet another adventure! Whatever you choose, Isabella. I just need you to say," I looked down at our interlocked hands, "that you love me too."

Isabella's face erupted in a brightness that reflected my own. Her eyes, so close to mine, were shining passionately, and her smile was pulling me into her even more.

"I love you," she said quietly. I felt my smile widen.

In a heated moment, my arms suddenly sprung around her back, and hers flew around my neck. My lips were drawn to hers like magnets, and when our lips finally touched, it had to be the most natural-feeling kiss I'd ever experienced. It didn't go on for very long, but I felt the passion and bliss in every second. When we broke apart, I smiled down at her.

"Uh, hello? I'm marrying my Izzy, not you!" I heard a squeamish whine to my right. Half my height stood Harry, pouting. I chuckled and looked back at Isabella.

"Let's get out of here," I said, planting a soft kiss on her cheek and locking one of my hands with one of hers. We began running to the exit—not an escape-type run, however, a slower run, for the entire crowd of people was cheering for us.

Once we reached the other side of the chapel doors, I grabbed both of her hands once more. The room was empty, so all I could hear was our breathing and my heartbeat.

"So, was this kiss awesome?" I asked.

Isabella chuckled.

"Oh, much better than last time. Quite possibly the world's best kiss."

I smiled as I leaned down for another kiss.