Destined Path

Chapter Seven: A Royal Wedding

Alexan PoV

I didn't even turn when the doors opened behind me.

I kept my eyes focused on the carved, golden altar before me and inhaled deeply to calm my rapidly beating heart. I had known that all famous kings of importance had given sacrificed something; eyes, hands feet and... others, for glory and fame in marriage. But this sacrifice seemed ... unfair. Because I was sacrificing my life, my freedom and in a way my heart. It scared me terribly. I had woken this morning with a rush of nerves and fear of what was to come. Kyarah lay beside me, the only woman I felt I could trust enough to speak my mind. The three years that had past, it felt odd to be taking someone I barely know into my bed for the rest of my life. There was a respectful hush where only the music wafted to my ears.

I closed my eyes and a small prayer went from my lips, "Forgive me."

I felt they procession coming in, closing into me and I felt my throat constrict when I was meant to turn and bring Onyx up the dais before the high priest.

My father, who I had avoided in my anger, looked every bit the king he was. Silver and gold with his magnificent crown on his head, he looked down at me and my soon to be consort as we neared each other. I felt the full crowd of people behind me; I felt the eyes of her family and mine upon my back. I turned to my soon-to-be wife, Onyxia looked like she was going to flee at a given moment and when I extended my hand, I saw her give her mother an uncertain glance. Of course she was confused, this was a complete opposite to what she most think weddings were like. It wasn't as festive or as decorative as they're own celebration. Her family's reaction I missed, but I saw the way something died in her when she extended her trembling hand, letting me pull her up beside me.

Her eyes were bright today, a vivid blue, that darted everywhere at once. She was very clean and the smell of lavendrer lingered on her skin in a hypnotic aroma. Her eyes were lightly dusted with a pale greyish-violet power, making them stand out through the long, thick fan of eyelashes. Her pinkish lips sat in their natural pouted frowned expression; I smirked to think that she was born frowning. Her pale hair was braided and bunned in the most technical way I have ever seen, it must have taken extreme effort and time. Thin slivery chains were threaded through it, matching the thin elegance of her jewellery. Her dress was draped across her shoulders in wide, flowy sleeves, revealing her thin arms. Multiple threads connected to a broach in its centre, holding the garment up. Its skirt was flowing and trailed behind her in a sway of white fabric.

She looked absolutely stunning. She'd be breathtakingly imperial if she smiled. I strummed my thumb over her shaking hand, she gripped my fingers tightly. Her breathing was harsh, almost on the verge of sheer panic. I watched fascinated as she scowled herself and took a deep, deep breath. Again, and again. Until she calmed, and her fingers no longer shook. Brave woman, so very brave.

It was held in the very hall that had held my father's coronation. People filled the hall, humming and talking to themselves, introducing sons to daughters and men to women. Everyone was dressed gaily and everyone was anxious to see the bride I had taken. Not everyone had seen her, but they knew she was Viking. Word had spread of her beauty and inquiries made about how I would couple with the woman I had imported from afar. They talked freely and made no secret of their curiosity. So, as I stood on the altar, could hear them all.

Onyxia PoV

I knew who she was, without anyone even having to tell me. She was Kyarah. As I stood at the altar, barely hearing the words being vowed by the priest. I was rather uncomfortable with the unfamiliar ceremony; it was not like how we do weddings back home. And for that I was deeply saddened. I toyed with the beading of my white gown, noting that I wasn't the only one wearing white.