"The Queen's Husband."

~Chapter 3~

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AMIRAH:

I was utterly in disbelief about the unfolding events. Positioned at the center of the opulent throne room, I found myself surrounded by my family, servants, and the hastily summoned nobles.

In a somber silence, I directly confronted the reigning monarch of Portugal, Leonel II. His gaze met mine, a faint smirk teasing the corners of his lips, provoking me. Tears welled up in my eyes, a habit of mine when overwhelmed by anger or intense emotions. I adamantly hated the thought of marrying any of these tyrants, especially not their insolent King—a scenario completely different from my once envisioned future for both myself and my people.

To add to the humiliation my family and I were facing, Omari and his entourage were coerced to participate, compelled to bear witness to this travesty. King Leonel had provokingly informed him, "Oh no. You cannot depart yet. Regrettably, you found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time, hence the arrow in your shoulder. Do stay and be honored with the sight of this union between the Princess and I."

The swift descent of this day that was supposed to be special and sweet, into bitterness, left me shocked and heartbroken. It was an unforeseen turn of events. For the very first time, I yearned to be anyone but a Princess bound by duty.

"Bishop," called out Lieutenant Diogo, beckoning the clergyman to approach, who positioned himself between Leonel and me, clutching a bible.

"You dare to sanctify this union in the eyes of God, despite the atrocities you and your people have committed. The height of hypocrisy," I bravely retorted to the Portuguese sovereign with disdain.

"Quiet. We are commencing," he rebuked me with a smirk that irked me as much as his presence did, dismissive of my words. "Bishop, proceed," he directed the elderly clergyman.

Startled, I tried to retract my hands when he clasped them in his grip, but his hold remained firm as he held them. Ignoring my glare, he asked the bishop to begin the ceremony.

"Princess," the bishop commenced. "Do you consent to be joined in matri–"

"No need for such formality, bishop," the impertinent King interjected. "Bless this union swiftly so we may return to camp. We have to prepare for the long journey that awaits us starting tomorrow."

'What insolence from a King,' I thought to myself.

"As you command, Sire. By the authority vested in me by the Holy Trinity, I henceforth pronounce you husband and wife."

With a swift motion, I freed my hands from his grasp, and King Leonel turned towards my family.

"That will suffice. The necessary documents will be signed upon our return to Lisbon. We bid you farewell now as we make our way back to the encampment."

"Absolutely not," my father declared resolutely, rising from his throne.

The Portuguese monarch cast a malevolent glare in my father's direction, sparking concern in me that my father might once again attempt to intervene.

"Father," I called out tentatively, my worry palpable, yet my father remained stubborn, his gaze unfaltering.

"It is too late to venture into the woods with my daughter under the darkness of night. She will spend the night here. Return tomorrow," my father demanded firmly.