Queen Nheera, dressed in soft swathes of pearlescent fabric that seemed to both hide and reveal her figure all at once, stepped into the dressing room. She looked like the embodiment of elegance and grace with her angelic smile and kind, wise eyes.
" That's enough for now, Ladies. I require time alone with my daughter in law." The queen said. The other women nodded their heads and exited the room immediately.
Soon it was just the two of them left in the room. For a moment, the queen simply stood by the door while she inspected Circe's appearance from where she sat facing the vanity.
Circe watched the queen's reflection in the mirror, studying every movement she made.
" My name is Nheera Osbourne." The queen said. "I imagine you're scared and confused and more than a little bit angry right now."
Circe didn't trust herself to speak— so she kept her lips shut.
The queen continued regardless. " You won't understand it now but this will benefit everyone involved, including you. Soon, you will realize that the people in the palace are the least of your worries and the people outside the walls are the ones you should really look out for."
Queen Nheera stepped towards the divan and picked up the dress made of shimmering fabric that was draped over its surface. " I hoped this would make things easier."
" Everything is easier when your life isn't on the line and you aren't being forced to marry a man you loath." Circe said. She hadn't been able to stop the words from toppling out.
The queen lowered her head. " I suppose you are right. But you will find your place here. We all do." She brought the garment to Circe. " This will fit you so well. It almost reminds me of my own wedding to the king."
" Was it also an arranged marriage?" Circe found herself asking.
Nheera smiled. " It was and it wasn't at the same time. I was raised by a strict father. He told me and my sister that women weren't meant for power and greatness. He always said that we would be lucky enough to be married to a high ranking member of the king's court and nothing more. You see, I had the chance to marry a man I loved but I also wanted to prove my father wrong. I wanted it so much, I made it my life's mission." She raised her head and met Circe's gaze in the mirror. " So I chose power instead."
Once again Circe remained silent but it didn't stop her thoughts from running wild. Why was the queen telling her all this? Was Circe to believe a single word that she said? She wasn't sure which parts of their interactions were genuine and which ones were fake.
But Circe knew one thing for sure and it was to not trust any of the vampires.
Circe rose to her feet when the queen gestured for her to stand. She slipped into the dress, her eyes still on her reflection in the mirror. The queen moved behind her and began fastening the laces of the dress.
" There!" The queen beamed. " Now you look ready to face a room full of nobles."
If only Circe felt the same way she looked on the outside, perhaps then her stomach wouldn't be in knots.
Lanterns hung from the walls and ceilings, casting soft light throughout the grand chamber. It was where she would wed the prince. In this very room, her fate would be sealed.
Her steps slowed as she reached the large dais on which the prince and king stood. She hadn't really focused enough to notice it before but now that she saw the two standing side by side, she saw that Ragnar was a spitting image of the king, although a slightly more youthful version. They had the same dark hair and brown eyes. The same high cheekbones and square jaw.
In the middle of the dais, a fire burnt in a square pit. Circe paused in front of the flames. Ragnar came to stand in front of her. Only the pit separated them. He wore an embroidered coat over a black silk tunic, his legs clad in loose black britches. A long sword hung at his waist. His long hair was left untied and the strands brushed over his shoulders. Gold jewelry adorned his neck and fingers.
It was the first time in days they were both together in the same room. Once again, they faced each other.
" Princess Circe." He acknowledged.
" Ragnar." Circe said in return. She refused to call him by his title. He didn't deserve her respect.
She knew they were being watched by the nobles and other royals in attendance. Casting furtive glances around, she searched for her brother. She let out a quiet sigh when she spotted him standing next to a few serving girls. He was still dressed in his simple clothes and his eyes were fixed on her.
An elderly vampire clad in dark red religious robes approached them. He cleared his throat before he spoke. He gestured at the flaming pit.
" Standing before you is the burning Marzenian flame, ignited by Lamora's first ruler, king Marzen himself when he first built the very castle we all stand in front of. The fire had been burning for over Four millennia. It is said that the entire vampire race will come to an end the very moment the last embers of the fire goes out on its own." He paused to look at Ragnar. His gaze landed on Circe next. She was certain that everyone else in the room already knew the words and the summon was only meant for her to know what she was getting herself into.
The elder continued. " It is also said that whatever oath that is taken in front of the flames is forever binding. Wedding vows taken in front of the flames are stronger and last as long as the fire continues to burn. That is why we are all here today, to witness the binding of two souls into one."
Circe looked around the room once more. Everyone there knew this marriage was nothing but a sick twisted joke, yet none of them said anything. None of them tried to put an end to it. They were nothing more than sentient statues the way they all stood there gawking up at her and Ragnar.
The elder said a few words in a language Circe didn't understand. He turned to Ragnar, who responded to his words in the same language.
Unease coiled around her limbs like a whip as she continued to watch them. Her heart almost leaped out of her chest when the elder grabbed her wrist and placed her hand in Ragnar's open ones.
" Do you accept this union, princess of Westeria?" The elder asked.
Circe didn't have a choice. Her eyes stung as she felt her last tether to freedom snapping away.
" I do." She said. She forced her voice to sound stronger than it actually was.
" It is done." The elder announced. Applause sounded across the hall.
Ragnar still held onto her hand. He used it to help her down the stairs leading up to the dais.
The king's voice boomed behind them. "Tonight we shall feast in honor of my son and his new bride."
Cheers went up in the air. The doors swung open, and servants filed into the room, carrying golden trays of food. The highborn vampires moved to the low tables and reclined against the pillows on the floor as the food was placed on the tables. It was just as opulent and over-the-top as the Lamorian people were.
Ragnar led her to a table reserved for them and she woodenly sat down as the king, queen, the princes along with some noble ladies, began to eat from the table.
A servant approached Circe and poured wine in the goblet in front of her.
"Thank you," she murmured, trying to catch the girl's eye.
The servant froze for a moment and quickly backed away.
Circe frowned and then glanced back at the table. Despite the way everyone eagerly devoured the food, Circe's plate remained untouched.
When she looked up, she caught sight of familiar eyes. It belonged to one of the princes. She realized belatedly that the man she was staring at was the same man that had approached her and Ragnar at the door of her bedroom the night she was presented before the king and queen.
This time instead of wrinkled clothes, he was dressed in garments befitting a prince. A single silver earring dangled from his left ear. His eyes were already trained in her direction. He smirked at her. The look was rife with devious smugness.
After the meal, Ragnar took her hand and led her unto the empty dance floor for their first dance as a couple. It was as rigid and uncomfortable as she had anticipated, with neither of them choosing to engage the other in conversation. Once it was over, more people stepped onto the dance floor. As everyone paired up for the dance, Ragnar turned around and retreated deeper into the hall.
She was left standing there alone for a while but the time she spent by herself was cut short when someone approached her.
" Princess Circe," He bowed his head in respect. " May I have this dance?"
Circe recognized him as one of the princes. She glanced to her far right and spotted an identical copy of him speaking to the queen.
" Of course." She said and placed her hand in his outstretched one.
" I am the king's youngest son. My name is Jayran." He muttered as he guided her through multiple twirls and spins before pulling her closer to his body. " I can't imagine this is what you wanted to be doing today. It is not right to do something like this to someone of your status. It's humiliating."
Circe blinked at him. What did he expect her to say? Were his words a ploy to get her to lower her guard in a room full of enemies?
Just as she considered breaking away from Jayran, the man slipped a sheath stiletto blade into the pocket of her dress
Her eyes widened but she managed to mask her surprise. "What are you up to?" she growled.
Anyone who looked at them closely would have been able to see his hands moving over her hip as he patted the blade.
"Mischief, of course. Keep it or throw it away. I don't care." Jayran smiled. " Ragnar's brides never survive very long."
Brides?
"What do you mean?" Her lips trembled.
He nodded toward a group of nobles looking their way. "Do you really think they're all interested in you? You're amusing for sure, but you're part of a larger game. They are betting on how long you'll live."
Ice trickled down her spine.
Jayran spun them as she caught sight of Ragnar moving in their direction, his massive frame a beacon in the crowd.
"Why would they do such a thing?" she asked urgently.
"It's the secret the court holds close to its chest." A dramatic pause. " Ragnar has been married once before. And his bride was murdered the night of their wedding."