Naomi brushed her long brown hair one more time before setting the vale on her head. The Lady of the Nibrue House was getting married, and there was much excitement. Grown-up Simba with a full fluffy main groomed his face. As leader of the winged lion pride, he had to look his best.
Sage and Marta squealed at her dress. "How pretty. He's a lucky guy." Naomi looked one more time in the mirror. She picked up her bouquet. Sage and Marta appeared, one on either side of her. "You ready?" Sage asked.
Naomi smiled. "I was born ready," she said. "Maybe, if I tell myself that, it'll calm my nerves." She said that last part as if it was working.
"Well," Marta said. "Too late to back out now." Naomi wondered if that was suppose to make her feel better.
The ball room was stuffed full of people. Her wedding was going to be the second biggest event of the year. The revolution had come and Naomi was the last of noble blood alive. They had tried to make her Queen, but she refused. Ruling part of the kingdom was hard enough. Instead, Tiger, whose real name was Maria, ruled as Queen. Her coronation was the biggest event of the year.
Naomi looked down the long aisle of red carpet. It seemed to stretch out forever. Her knees shook under the flowing dress. Butterflies flitted around in her stomach like the young cubs of Simba's pride.
But then, she saw her groom. Dressed and waiting for her. The best choice for Lord Nibrue, he had no last name of his own. And the only suitor who came to call who like Naomi and not her title and money. The sight of her beloved calmed her nerves.
The wedding march began. Sage, Marta, and the other bridesmaids, who Lady Charrlota insisted on having, started walking down the aisle. Grown-up Sissy and Auntie's last cub Surprise, guess where she got the name from, fell towards the smell of meat, baskets of flowers swinging from their tails.
Then Naomi started walking down the aisle. All stood as she came. Her heart pounded, her palms were so sweaty that the flowers almost slipped out of her hands. No matter how far she walked, it always looked like forever until the end of the petal coated carpet. She told herself to focus on her groom, her beloved, the only one who helped her in her time of need. The one who risked his father's wrath to help her. The one who stood by her side, proud to serve her.
At the end of the carpet, when it finally came up, Abir held out his hand to her. "My lady," he said. "Are you sure you wish to chose me as your husband. I'm not even a native."
Naomi smiled. "True, but the natives seem more interested in the perks of being a Lord then my happiness." She took Abir's gloved hand. Dampness had already spread. She said nothing.
They turned to the minster. Lady Charrlota started crying and six year old Nathan started snoring. But Naomi and Abir were married, and they started their happy life together in the Nibrue palace with the winged lions and their children.