Crowned by the Man They Feared (Amelia and Jeremy) novel Chapter 636

"This is insanely pretty. Next time, I want mine exactly like this—I just don't know how hard it is to book the venue."

"Incredibly hard, I'd say. This is a firefly conservation park—ordinary people can't just reserve it."

"Forget a birthday party—if my wedding looked like this, I'd die happy."

Brielle arrived with a few friends, and the moment she saw the setup, she couldn't stop gushing.

She didn't like Amelia, and she knew exactly whose birthday this was.

But she wasn't so petty as to lie to herself—it was genuinely stunning, and she had the grace to admit it.

Acknowledging someone else's good fortune wasn't that difficult, after all.

At the center of it all stood Amelia, dressed in a pale, flowing gown. The light gauze at the hem and shoulders fluttered softly, like the wings of a flower spirit who had wandered into the mortal world.

Today, her makeup was all gentle peaches and warm pinks, the kind that made her look like spring had settled lightly on her skin.

She wore light-colored contact lenses that added a hint of mystery and fluidity to her gaze, making her eyes look like clear, enchanting pools of lake water.

Her hair fell in a silken cascade over her shoulders, completing the image of a fairy stepping out of a dreamscape.

She radiated an otherworldly elegance that left the guests breathless.

Guests found themselves staring, momentarily forgetting how to blink.

Beside her stood Jeremy, dressed in a bespoke black tuxedo, like a silent guardian at her side.

Without saying a word, he exuded an overwhelming sense of protective devotion.

"Amelia, you look absolutely breathtaking today. You and Jeremy together—it's truly a match made in heaven."

That was Nydia speaking.

As she gaped at Amelia, Nydia's affection only grew. She caught herself wishing the girl were her daughter.

She didn't dare hope for a daughter that old, of course; she would be over the moon just to successfully conceive.

Unfortunately, despite seeing world-renowned specialists and even considering surrogacy, she had found no success.

Her own eggs weren't viable enough to make even surrogacy a path forward.

All she could do was continue treatments and ask her niece, Sabrina, to look for some miraculous remedy.

"Heh, they sure are. You won't see another pair that fits together this perfectly."

This time, it was Whitney, who hadn't appeared in public for quite some time.

Usually buried in her research lab, she was the type who wished a day lasted 48 hours.

Yet, for her future daughter-in-law's birthday, she had taken special leave just to attend.

It was obvious how untouchable Amelia's status was within the Currans.

Even Bridget—who had once been distant toward her—had shown up with an expensive gift.

A mere birthday party, and the elders felt compelled to humble themselves by attending.

Such grand posturing!

It's only because of him, she thought.

If not for Jeremy, who would give Amelia the time of day?

Let alone draw this many heavyweights into one room.

The cake was pastel pink and delicately crafted—feminine, refined, and impossibly elegant.

Rumor had it that the baker was a favorite of the Yttria Royal Family, and the cake had taken a full week to complete.

Those in the know understood that a creation like this easily ran into five figures.

Once again, the young women in the crowd looked on with envy.

It was the kind of dream cake every girl fantasized about.

"Jeremy asked us to help organize it. We were more than happy to."

"Right, right! And we have actual gifts, too—this doesn't count as the present!"

Terrified that their sister might be unhappy or misunderstood, the brothers explained themselves with cautious, eager voices.

"Mm. Thank you," Amelia said with a small smile.

Regardless of their past grievances or obstacles that once seemed insurmountable, she felt that their sincere efforts today deserved a polite acknowledgment.

Hearing their sister's gentle thanks, the three goofballs almost jumped for joy.

It felt like a new beginning—a good one.

At the very least, she was no longer greeting them with icy words and colder expressions.