|[ The Soul Reaper - 2 ]| [UNDERGOING EDITING]

Chapter 5 // Leap of Faith

But his body ignored his thoughts and he slowly began undressing. He pulled his shirt off, pulled down his pants and then stepped into the black robes. They hugged his torso tightly, showing off his broad frame, and set his skin even whiter. As he glanced back at the broken mirror pieces, he could've smiled at how well he looked even with a fractured appearance. But as the image of Imelda standing beside him instead of Irene bloomed in his head sadness filled him. He wanted to marry Irene, not Imelda. And there wasn't a thing he could do. He wasn't strong enough to stop it. She didn't want to marry you anyway. Her voice hissed like venom in his mind.

Cedric's hand curled into a fist.

***

The sun was just showing, rays of gold filtering through the light mist as pink stained the roof of the sky above them. Even at this early hour the crowds had amassed in their hundreds, humans and Fae, waiting for the union between two kingdoms. He could see her standing there, facing away from him, white veil pulled over her face and shoulders. Her silhouette was plastered against the dawn like an artwork. If he didn't know any better, he could have thought it was Irene waiting for him at the altar. But the dress clung to her curvy figure and the sadness filled him once more. Irene didn't have that shape, wasn't that tall.

Irene didn't know how beautiful she was, didn't realised how very precious she was to him. And now because of his own weakness he had lost her. Inside he was crying as he walked the seemingly never-ending metres of aisle, but Imelda was twisting his face into a warm beaming smile, a mirror of her own as she turned and faced him. Her veil had been pushed back off her perfect face and her dark lips were curled up in a smile. She was beautiful, but Cedric didn't feel her charm pull at his heart strings like it seemed to do to every other man. Perhaps because his heart was already taken – there was nothing left in his chest to pull.

He stopped walking and faced Imelda across the aisle, and she took his hands roughly, though he could tell from everyone else's view it would look like a gentle touch. The sun hovered low, as if waiting for the ceremony to begin before it began its ascent.

The priest beamed out at everyone, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. Cedric glanced around, though not of his own accord, and with the awful smile still twisting his lips. He saw Mayon in the first rows of people, his face smug, and Cedric couldn't help but wonder if he'd played some part in this.

"Do you, Imelda," The priest began, "Daughter of Soldin, Queen of Thalandor and Head of the House of Thalandorian, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" he smiled. Imelda nodded, flashing her perfect white teeth. Cedric felt hatred bubble inside him. He couldn't believe this horrid woman was related to Irene.

"I do."

"And do you promise to protect him, care for him, and love him until death do you part?"

"I do."

"And do you Cedric, Jorildson, King of Trinstone, Head of the House of Trinstor, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." Cedric heard the words leave his mouth, despite him trying to hold them in. Imelda's smile twitched slightly. She could feel him struggling to resist her, and found it entertaining. Like watching an insect trapped in a web. It was sick.

"And do you promise to protect her, care for her, and love her until death do you part?"

"I do." Cedric lied. I'll bring about your death before anything else... he thought viciously.

"Then by the powers invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife."

"Till death do us part," Imelda echoed him, leaning in to kiss him. Her lips were slightly blue; as if she were cold and as Cedric leaned in against his will he could smell something sweet and sour.