As dawn broke on what should have been a day of joyous celebration, a throng of servants filled my chamber, their presence a stark reminder of the emptiness that overshadowed my wedding. Instead of the comforting embrace of family and friends, I was surrounded by the unfamiliar faces of Ravenmarch and the sorrowful eyes of slaves taken from Evermere and neighboring kingdoms.
While the majority of Evermere's captives toiled in the brutal mining fields and deep caverns of Ravenmarch, or underwent rigorous training for the front lines, a select few resided within Ravenmarch's fortress. These privileged individuals, requiring little instruction, served within my father's castle. I now find myself gazing into the grand mirror.
I possessed an average height, neither short nor strikingly tall. My skin was pale, contrasting with the deep, large blue of my eyes and the rare dark burgundy hair I shared with my father—a shade unique to our family in this land. Thick lashes framed my eyes, and my lips were plump and rosy, stained by the fresh pink ink applied for my impending wedding. As the youngest of three older sisters and five older brothers, I had always envisioned a longer period as a princess. At twenty, the responsibilities of a queen felt premature; I longed for the freedom to explore distant lands with my father and siblings, to immerse myself in the cultures I had only read about. Now, that dream was overshadowed by the reality of preparing for marriage to a man I abhorred.
I hadn't known the General's age until a long-serving servant revealed it. "The General is thirty years old," she said, and I was taken aback. Though his face was youthful, the multitude of scars etched upon his body and his seasoned demeanor suggested a far greater age and experience. My gaze drifted to my wedding gown, a flawless white that accentuated my figure, a beautiful garment for such a sorrowful occasion. My voluptuous form was admired even by queens and princesses; by seventeen, I was proclaimed one of Eldoria's most beautiful princesses. My father, despite his infidelities that resulted in my half-siblings, cherished me as his favorite, his most precious and beautiful daughter—"a gem among the stones," he'd often say. I resented this favoritism, as it bred resentment among my siblings.
My beauty had been a curse. During my elder sisters' weddings, I was forced into hiding to prevent the princes from desiring me instead. Consequently, much of my life was spent unseen, denied the simple comfort of familial affection. I had longed for the day when age would diminish my allure, when wrinkles and scars might finally grant me the warmth of a sister's embrace or a brother's protectiveness, instead of envious gazes and cruel taunts. Despite this, my love for my family and the Kingdom remained. Now, the prospect of becoming queen to a fractured realm and a brutal king filled me with dread. What would become of us? How could we possibly rebuild?
"You are breathtaking, Thalassa," Lanne exclaimed. "I never imagined witnessing such beauty. The General will surely sing your praises upon seeing you!" I scoffed inwardly. More likely, he would shower me with scorn.
A small breakfast now seemed a wise decision, knowing the length of the day before me as they finished my hair. My progress to the chapel was slow, my train carried by a retinue of servants. Along the way, a wave of shock and awe rippled through the assembled crowd: servants, men and women, soldiers, nobles, and finally the common people who had gathered outside, their anticipation now replaced by stunned silence. "Such beauty has never graced our lands," one voice sighed. Another whispered in disbelief, "Has an angel truly descended from heaven and walks among us?" A third exclaimed softly, "She is unreal, the most beautiful woman my eyes have ever beheld."
With my gaze lowered, I proceeded towards the grand Chapel doors as trumpets blared, heralding my arrival with a formal court announcement. As the doors swung open, the scene unfolded before me: nobles from various Kingdoms, allied with Ravenmarch either through peaceful treaties or after military defeat, alongside his chosen King and Queen. I recognized some faces, noting the lingering regret in their eyes for not having secured me for their own royal unions. Ascending the carpeted aisle, I observed the priest in his magnificent royal blue, pearl white, and gold vestments, his bald head gleaming and cheeks flushed with color, a bright smile fixed upon his face. Finally, my eyes settled upon the man I was to marry: General Valorik.
A gasp escaped me. He stood resplendent in a fine royal blue coat, satin pants, and a pearl white ruffled blouse intricately embroidered with gold, a flowing cape of similar design draped around him, and a small crown atop his head. I wore a shining silver tiara, and my pearl white dress mirrored his blouse. His eyes widened as he looked at me, his carefully constructed facade crumbling completely, revealing a flicker of vulnerability. "Princess, you..." he stammered, his gaze fixed on me in evident shock. Then, as if shaking himself from a daze, he cleared his throat and turned to the priest. "Priest, let us begin," he stated, his earlier gaze now averted, his attention fixed on the cleric, his ears flushed a deep red.
I found myself unable to look away from the General. He possessed an undeniable aura of elegance and strength, his appeal regrettably potent. Handsome, a wolf expertly disguised in sheep's clothing, a mask he wore with practiced ease. Today, his usual braids were absent, his black hair instead gleaming as it cascaded down his back, adorned with a single beaded loc interspersed with gems and stones.
Blessed be this day, when the Lord in His divine wisdom doth call forth these two to be joined in holy matrimony. Before the Almighty, and in witness of the goodly folk gathered here, let it be known that marriage is a sacred covenant—a bond not merely of earth and mortal promise, but of Heaven itself.
As the scriptures say, 'What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.'
This man and this woman come before us, not as strangers, but as two souls entwined by fate, strengthened by love, and guided by the providence of our Lord.
Dost thou, noble groom, swear before God and His Church to take this woman as thy wife, to honor and cherish her, to shield her from sorrow, and to hold her in faith until the end of thy days? His reply was a direct "I do," his intense expression now focused solely on me.
And dost thou, fair bride, vow before God and His Holy Church to take this man as thy husband, to abide by his side in times of fortune and hardship, to uphold him with thine own grace, and to love him with unwavering devotion? "I do," I stated, meeting his intense gaze without wavering.
Then, by the authority granted unto me by the Holy Church, and in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I declare thee husband and wife. May the Lord bless thee, keep thee, and grant thee peace all thy days. Amen.
"Amen," Valorik and I said together, the response rippling through the chapel. The exchange of rings followed. Mine was a simple gold band, and I noted with a pang of disappointment the absence of an inscription. He then did something unexpected: he kissed my hand in front of everyone, his gaze holding mine. His quiet whisper, meant only for the priest and me, was a stark contrast to the public display: "To the people, you are their Queen. I'll play the part." The real, callous Valorik had finally revealed himself, and I gritted my teeth. As I presented his ring, bearing the inscription "Bound by hate, sealed by fate," a smirk flickered across his face as he accepted it. I forced myself to kiss his hand, my upward gaze a silent challenge
Ascending to a raised platform, we knelt in formal obeisance before being escorted away. The crowd erupted in cheers, showering us with grains and cries of adoration: "Long live the future King and Queen! Valorik and Thalassa Valois of Evermere and Braile!" Clinging to his arm, I offered a wave, mirroring his own, both of us maintaining a facade of unity for the adoring crowd..
A second grand banquet had been prepared, this time welcoming the townspeople. The entire Kingdom was given over to celebration, with only food stalls operating, and the populace reveling in the festivities centered around our union. As evening descended, lanterns dotted the sky, small fires glowed throughout, and the city squares came alive with games and theatrical performances. This Kingdom was a vibrant tapestry of unexpected diversity, its streets echoing with numerous languages and cultures. The impending wedding night filled me with a paralyzing nervousness, making it difficult to breathe or even think clearly.
Another bath was drawn, followed by yet another unnecessary inspection, a ritual expected of royalty. My chamber was located in a distant, grand wing, typically reserved for visiting royal guests. The spacious room boasted large mirrors and windows, a luxurious bed, and an ample wardrobe. A fur carpet covered the floor, and dark oak trim framed the ceiling, from which a bright chandelier hung. I was informed the General was already inside. I donned a silken robe over a long lace gown, my perfumed hair cascading down my back as my maids and four guards escorted me. He likely believed his threat had made me a flight risk.
Standing before the heavy oak door, my heart hammered against my ribs as I cautiously opened the warmly lit room and quietly closed it behind me. He was nowhere in sight—not on the bed, nor by the window. Yet, a prickling sensation rose on the back of my neck. Just then, I felt a hot breath ghost over my skin. "Princess slave," he drawled, the possessive title sending a shiver of fear through me. "I have waited a long time for this."