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But after being trapped for six months in a castle due to a curse and witnessing two distant souls fall in love against all odds, Aelwen was ready to take responsibility for her fate. She couldn't claim to love the man standing at the other end of the aisle, who she gradually closed the distance between, but she did love her father, and he wanted her to go through with this.
They’d spent years at odds, but now, she was ready to fulfill her role as a princess of the fae kingdom and attempt to find some unity with the neighboring vampire kingdoms. That all started with her husband-to-be, King Vinir.
The pews were filled with all the notable nobles from the lands all around, fae and vampire alike. In contrast with thevampires' dark lace and velvets, the fae wore gowns and suits of fluttering leaves, flowers, and thin, floating silks and gossamers.
Aelwen sucked in a deep breath when she reached the end of the aisle, stepping up to the dais where King Vinir waited for her. His silver eyes pinned her in place, but it was the disinterest within them that stung her the most.
Did he even want this wedding?
She could see most men’s desire lit like a flame deep within when they looked at her. Desires they subdued because most of them knew better than to hope for anything from her, a princess. Her virginity was a protected commodity that her father would have slaughtered any man if it was risked prematurely.
But within minutes, Vinir would own Aelwen. She would be his body and all. Signed away as his property, his wife. But he didn't look like he wanted her at all, and he hardly gave her more than a glance.
She swallowed and settled in place opposite him.
The officiant cleared his throat. "Today, we gather here to witness the union of King Vinir and Princess Aelwen in matrimony."
His words echo through the cathedral. Aelwen had once expected, so long ago, that she’d be excited to get married, but she couldn't focus on the proceedings at all. Next to her, Vinir was as still and silent as a statue. She held her breath, wishing away the droning in her ears, trying to push back the fear that this wedding was a huge mistake.
How could she fulfill her duties if her husband wouldn't even look at her on their wedding day?
Her father, King Sinnegard of Gaivalon, had demanded that Aelwen make her husband happy. Provide him with many children. Perform her duties as expected. Bring unity between their peoples, and he would grant her his favor again.
And no sooner.
"By the laws and customs of our two kingdoms, King Vinir and Princess Aelwen, do you accept each other as husband and wife?" the officiant asked.
There was a moment of silence so deafening that Aelwen thought that she'd lost her hearing. She stared right at Vinir, commanding him to be the first to speak. She was here, prepared to give him her everything, to fling herself into this marriage heart first and make the best of it.
But him?
It took him a long, slow second to look at her. His silver eyes glowed in the moonlight, and she couldn't help but imagine those tireless eyes raking over her naked body, wondering if they would still be so emotionless or if he would reveal a hint of his feelings to her.
"I do," Vinir said, his voice ringing loud and clear.
Aelwen's heart hammered, half expecting that she was hearing things. "I do," she said quietly but firmly, trying not to let her fear show through her voice.
The fear of what would inevitably come next.
"Then, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," said the officiant at last.
Aelwen turned, expectant, to face King Vinir. His cape ruffled as he did the same. Half closing her eyes, she tilted her head, waiting for him.
But he simply stood there, his face inscrutable—merely a cold and ruthless king.
"No, we won't be doing that part," Vinir declared. "This wedding is official, sanctified, and done. Enjoy the party, everyone."
Then he turned away from the assembled guests and Aelwen and strode down the dais away from her. Aelwen's eyes widened, and a blush of embarrassment crept up her cheeks at the confused murmurs traveling through the guests. She stood there, dumbfounded at King Vinir's simple refusal even to touch her, let alone kiss her.
Had she done something wrong? Had she offended him somehow?
It was easy to stand there worrying where she'd gone wrong, but it became more apparent by the second, at least to her, that she'd done everything she'd been asked. It was Vinir who had fallen short in this arrangement.
The burn of embarrassment in her stomach grew into a speck of anger. She wasn't going to stand here and be humiliated by her husband's refusal, and she was going to get answers.
Hiking up her dress, she stomped after him.
He disappeared behind a closed door, but she was fast despite her heels and heavy wedding gown conspiring to slow her down.
