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36
Kira
Sitting at the small dining table in my chambers, I sipped at my tea as the rain poured down against the windows.
The door between my room and Cyrus’s had been left open last night for the first time. I knew we were supposed to go to the royal suite and share a bed for the first time, but after struggling to get him up the stairs, it made more sense for him to return to his own room and sleep off the ridiculous amount of wine he had consumed last night.
I had pushed his door open with him still hanging off me, his words slurred and his hands wandering over my face and shoulders. It had been funny, really, but at the time I had wanted nothing more than to take off the ridiculously heavy dress I was still wearing and climb into my bed. Cyrus had grumbled when he noticed I had not taken him all the way to the royal suite, and had tried to insist we go there, but I had laughed.
“Do you not want our first night together to be something you remember?” I had asked him, smiling and putting a hand on his chest, pushing him backwards until he was sitting on the edge of his bed.
“I would remember it,” He muttered, rolling his eyes, but the way they were glassed over, and he could not stand up straight unaided, said otherwise. I had laughed, taking his heavy crown from his head, and placing it on top of the pedestal he had made for it. The crown itself was stunning, twisted golden spikes, blood red rubies and black onyx decorated the golden band.
“Of course you would,” I grinned, turning my attention back to him to see he had already fallen onto the mattress, his head tipped towards the windows and his breath deep and slow. I smirked, shaking my head, and grabbing one of the thick, fluffy blankets from his living area, throwing it over him so he did not get cold.
His chambers were the stark opposite to mine. Where mine were decorated with white and light pink, golds, and silvers, his were dark reds and blacks. Every inch of his living space was immaculate, as though he spent next to no time in there at all. His battle armour, the suit I had only gotten a glimpse of on the battlefields at home, stood next to his fireplace — polished, primed, and posed as though it was getting ready to battle an invisible force in the room. I had almost laughed, turning away from it and covering my mouth as I hurried to the door that conjoined our rooms.
I let out a heavy sigh as I stepped through the threshold between our rooms, the comforting scent of lavender coming from my bedroom relaxing me instantly.
My living area had been piled high with presents. Perfectly wrapped boxes and large, intricately decorated bags scattered across my couches and table tops. It was overwhelming, and as much as I itched to organise it all into some sort of better system, the weight of my dress was starting to make my hips ache, so I bypassed the boxes and their extravagant wrappings and made a beeline for my bedroom.
The light curtain that separated the rooms swung closed behind me, and I finally let my shoulders slump. The ache in my shoulders and neck from the weight of my hair and crown was unrelenting, and I groaned as I tried to roll my shoulders. Rosa had left a hooked contraption on the bed for me to be able to undo my dress buttons by myself, and I had never been more grateful for her.
Once the buttons of my dress had popped open, I let it fall into a heap at my feet. The relief I felt was instant, and I reveled in the feeling of freedom now that I was able to move properly. A silk nightdress had been picked out for this evening and left on my bed, and goose pimples rose on my skin as I slipped it on over my tired skin.
After what felt like the best sleep of my life, I was awake at the very crack of dawn. We had a day of saying goodbye to our guests who had arrived from farther away and had longer to travel, and I did not want to spend theday socialising on an empty stomach.
If I was honest, I did not want to spend the day socialising at all.
The rains on the window were soothing, and as I sipped at the still hot tea in my mug, I tried my hardest not to laugh at the groans coming from Cyrus’s chambers. He had only woken a few minutes ago, and now that the retching had stopped, I could hear him shuffling around.
He appeared at the door between our chambers, his eyes squinting in the bright light of the open curtains, and his hair standing on end. He had managed to change himself from his coronation suit into a pair of sleep trousers and a loose, long-sleeved shirt.
“Good morning,” I smiled, still fighting the laughter that so badly wanted to burst through at the state of him. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I drank too much wine,” He grumbled, shuffling into the room and collapsing into the seat across from me at the small table, resting his head on the wooden surface.
“That’s because you did drink too much wine,” I laughed finally, reaching over and running my fingers through the messed-up tendrils of his hair. He grumbled something unintelligible, though I knew it was no doubt something rude, and I laughed, shaking my head at him.
When he sat upright again, his eyes were bloodshot red and more tired looking than I had ever seen him.
An almost comfortable silence came over us as we sat there, me sipping my tea and him starting to wolf down slice of toast after slice of toast, chasing it all with a large glass of ice water.
“Did you know Lars’ and his wife had a little girl?” I asked, eyeing him closely. I did not know why I felt the need to fill the silence with conversation, and by the way Cyrus looked at me over the top of his glass, neither did he.
“No, I did not.” He said as he placed his glass back on the table, reaching for another slice of toast, “When did that happen?”
“Three weeks ago.” I nodded, “We should send them something.”
“Lars is well paid; he does not need gifts. He can afford to pay for things for his family.”
“It would be the nice thing to do, Cyrus.” I sighed, my shoulders slumping. Cyrus looked at me with a raised eyebrow, as though he just did not care if it was the nice thing to do or not.
I opened my mouth to talk again when a heavy knock at my door sounded. Both Cyrus and I jumped, the unexpected suddenness of it breaking the awkward conversation.
I placed my mug down on the table, standing from myseat and pulling my soft robe tighter around myself. I had not yet bothered to get dressed, thinking that, the day after my wedding, I would be left alone for at least a few hours.
Pulling the door open, I was greeted by Leo’s smiling face, a large bouquet of flowers in his hands that he presented to me with a flourish. I stepped back, a surprised laugh leaving me as I took in the large arrangement being thrust in my face.
