The True Saint

The Wedding

        "I understand," I respond nervously, fearing that I will trip or mess up.

        In the corner, there is a girl with a basket of dark red rose petals, no older than six, in a white dress. She looks intimidated by all of the adults towering over her. I walk over with a soft smile and say, "Are you my beautiful flower girl?"

        She looks up at me shyly with large, deep blue eyes. "Yes," she says quietly. "You really think I'm pretty, Miss Alina?" She bats her eyelashes innocently.

        "Absolutely," I say with a grin. "You will surely be the prettiest one in that room." She is certainly beautiful. Her golden hair is naturally curly and glossy. Her podgy cheeks are round when she smiles and she has one dimple on her right side. "What is your name?"

        "Amelia."

        "That is a lovely name."

        She jumps up and down and says, "look what I can do." She takes a single petal from her basket and lays it on her palm. Amelia brings up her other hand and swooshes it in the air. A small gust of wind takes the petal from her hand and it floats gracefully to my hand. She is a Squaller.

        "Wow! Very impressive," I praise. I place the rose petal gently back in her basket.

        Our conversation is interrupted by loud music coming from the Grand Hall. As the massive double doors are opened, Amelia seems more relaxed than before and strides out in confidence. I follow slowly behind, the expecting eyes turning to me as I enter.

        The violin's sound is piercing in the deathly quiet room. Every man, woman, and child is watching, waiting for the new queen to be crowned. Amelia lightens the tension of the room when she throws a petal and it lands on her head. This induces a couple of giggles from the crowd.

        I look up and see the Darkling standing on the dais. Time has seemed to stop as our eyes meet. At this moment, it is just me and him in the room. I am struck with a sense of surety as I continue down the aisle. His facial expression has not changed since I've arrived, but I can feel his emotions through the tether. I sense pride that he has finally claimed me as his. Under the pride, however, I feel something below his enjoyment. Anger and desire. He feels angry that he wants me, battling himself constantly for it.

        The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.

        I've been looking for his weakness this entire time, but he has already told me. Our connection. I'm his weakness...

        Amelia parts at the end of the carpet that ends at the dais. She skips with her empty basket to the side of the room to watch. She waves at me, so I smile at her and give a little wave back below my hip.

        My elegant white dress follows behind me as I go up the small steps to the platform. There, the Darkling is standing confidently with his hands clasped together in front of him. I walk up to face him with the priest in between us.

        The priest starts with opening words, but I do not hear them. All I am focused on is the Darkling's grey irises observing me, as he always does. He wants to find hesitancy, fear, but I will not show it. I have never been confident in myself or pretended to be, but I need to be sure of myself now. If I am not infallible, the Darkling will take that as a chance to claim me as his. This marriage will not be for him to exploit me. This is for Ravka... This is what I keep telling myself. Although there is a small part of me that wants this. Wants him. I know the Darkling can sense this as his suffocating stare never falters.

        The vows have arrived and my nerves return. Aleksander goes first. The priest states his vows and he repeats them.

        "I Kirigan, take you, Alina, to be my wife, to have and to hold from, this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish..." he pauses.