Celeste's life is far from the enchanting fairy tale one might expect from a princess. Her father, a ruthless and self-absorbed king, leaves a trail of death and destruction in his wake. To seal alliances and maintain his power, he arranges for Cele...
I put on my happiest smile and take a bow to the king. The next thing I'm going to say is going to cause me more trouble than I care to, arguments and dozens of puzzled looks. I could wait, discuss my plan with Novak but I won't. This is my only chance to make it believable. I had hoped to have less present, but maybe that actually works in my favour.
'I must disappoint you highness. My cooking skills are not worthy of your kitchens and I believe I am of better service elsewhere,' I reply. I see Novak looking up beside me with a not understanding look. Nalu and Elenor also don't seem to understand my answer.
'And where may that be?' the king asks with a grin on his lips. I fold my hands behind my back and take a step closer to the elevation.
'As your wife.' The looks I receive after those words and the silence that strikes the room show that my words went anything but unnoticed.
'What?' echoes Novak's voice after mine. I ignore Novak's response and look straight at Walmoet. Although he tries his best to hide it, the surprise is visible on his face.
My choice may be somewhat radical and anything but what you would expect after my previous visit, but it is well thought out. There are not many ways to be alone with the man. He is well guarded and just stepping into his bedroom is certainly not inconspicuous.
Offering myself as his wife gives me more chances to be alone with him. The chances that he will take me up on my offer are high. He already has several wives and my name is power. Marriage has long since ceased to be something sacred for me, and neither for him.
'My wife? Celeste von Dira offers herself as my wife?' Walmoet asks with the widest grin on his lips. I continue to ignore the puzzled and slightly angry looks from Novak and Nalu as I take another step closer.
'Absolutely,' I reply. Walmoet takes a step closer in my direction, straightens his white open blouse and looks at me from head to toe.
'Why this offer?' This question was to be expected. After the flogging, he might understand that he is not my favourite person, and that is true. It is an unexpected offer, but with a thoughtful explanation.
'I understand that my offer is somewhat unexpected. We share no affection or bond. We do share a hatred for my father and Christiaan. Your warriors are well-trained and many. Though I have a price on my head, my name still offers power. There are more folk with a hatred for my family than an admiration, for my mother it is different. My mother was loved, well known and still carries a good name. My bad association with the royal family is well known, so people are not likely to link me to my father's ideals and ideas, rather my mother's. Besides, there is an old folk tale going around about the black witch, which I am sure you will know. Some think that's me, the bringer of peace. This accumulation means we can strengthen each other in defeating my father. It brings you power, prestige and a new lady in your bed.'
I have had days to think about my explanation and it seems to be bearing fruit. The doubt in the man's eyes is beginning to fade. The women sitting next to him do not seem to agree with my proposal. If looks could kill I would be in hell right now. Walmoet looks at me dubiously for a while, hesitating. Yet he finally raises his glass.
'Ladies and gentlemen, we have something to celebrate today. Celeste von Dira will be appointed my wife this week.' With those words, the first part of my plan has succeeded. The elves slowly start clapping, all confused by the situation. The current women look at me even more venomously than before. Nalu seems to want my head off and Novak is nowhere to be seen.
Walmoet sticks his hand in my direction as the clapping echoes past my ears. Smiling, I take his hand go, joining him on the rise. His blue-green eyes look deeply at me before he presses his lips to mine without prompting.
The rough lips slide over mine with a large amount of saliva. The taste of alcohol slips through my mouth. His hands slide unabashedly to my buttocks and stop there. Everything about this kiss is dirty, but I don't let it show.
It brings me back to Christiaan for a moment, but soon I realise the situation is different. This is my choice, my plan. The kiss goes on far too long for my liking before he pulls back, grins and looks into the crowd. I put on a smile and receive the last bit of applause.
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