Chapter fifteen

The wedding night came faster than she had expected.

Taking deep breaths, she stared at her reflection on her bedroom mirror.

The scented oil used on her hair smelled of cherries, and it made them lustrous and soft. It cascaded like red wine in beautiful curls just below her chest.

She stared at her flaming hair, the same her father had. She had learned way too soon that no matter how much she dyed her hair, the red would come back.

Her glance lingered over it for a little longer, only to abandon the sight and move to her features.

Her freckles were covered by powder, as well as the small acne spot on her right cheek that had appeared due to the stress.

The white wedding dress was now replaced by a short night gown that left little to immagination. Maid Nereia gave her a silk robe to cover herself with.

Pink powder was applied to her pale complexion, and red lipstick brighter the center of her lips.

The only imperfection on her face was the little mole just below her left eye.

"Lord Dorkas is at the door, my Lady."

She breathed in deeply. Wine was not allowed in the royal bedchamber for the wedding night. She had tried to drink a bit beforehand to numb her senses, but she felt more alive than ever.

"Let him in." The brief command had her bowels twisting.

The servants left, leaving the room feeling awfully empty.

She took in his figure. He was tall, but not too much taller than her. His white shirt was half unbuttoned and tucked in his pants. The pale skin of his chest glistened to the moonlight.

She brought her trembling hands to cover her breasts in an attempt to preserve what dignity she had left.

"It is considered rude to stare at one in such a way, Your Highness."

"In what way am I staring at you?"

"Like a lamb to a wolf."

She gulped and turned her gaze away. "I'm just nervous. It's my first time, after all."

"Fret not. I have had no romantic encounters of such nature either."

"Have you not?" Although the rumours of him being a recluse were always the talk of high society, the rumours of him being a renowned beauty also accompanied them.

"Am I so dashing that I have You doubting my words, Your Highness?"

She chuckled dryly, her anxiety too strong to let her laugh.

"Come here", he gestured to her.

She took two steps forward, and he did the same.

Although when they danced they were in close proximity, it never felt this shameful.

"I'll be gentle", he reassured her.

She nodded, gulping down perhaps a tad too loudly.

He took her left hand in his, and kissed her ring, the one he gifted her. "It'll be alright. Just relax." His soothing words did nothing to her.

Her racing heart was about to jump from her chest, and not even the sweet kisses he planted on her arm were enough to push back the tears she was so obstinate to keep hidden.

Her ears rang, and her skin ignited wherever his touch passed. She could not bear it any longer.

In tears, she retracted her hand, "I'm sorry", and ran to the bathroom.

Locking the bathroom, she slumped on the floor, resting her back at the door.

Big sobs shook her body and her hands could not stop trembling. Reality seemed to have set in at that point. Had she not accepted to marry him of her own will? He wasn't forcing her, he was sweet and attentive. She was of age to conceive a child, and it was her duty as an Empress to grant an heir to the lineage, so why was she so scared? Why had she ran away?

Coward. You're nothing but a coward.

In her sobbing, she couldn't hear the knocks on the door that became with time more and more frequent.

She hid her face between her hands, unable to quiet her pounding heart. She feared a heart attack, until the door behind her back suddenly came undone.

Little dust particles flew around the odd pair, and she could have sworn that his purple eyes looked like amethysts.

In the shock of the moment, she did not even bother hiding her tear drenched cheeks.

"Your Highness." He called her back to reality, and she covered her face with her hands.

He crouched down at her height.

"Don't look at me", she cried.

His deep sigh caressed the hair of her nape.

Slowly but with firm hands, he grabbed her wrists and uncovered her face.

She stared at him with eyes welled of tears.

He sighed again, but this time he pulled her in an embrace. It wasn't scary as when they last touched, and she let herself be lost in his scent.

He patted her hair and drew circles on her back, until her breathing finally evened and her heartbeat slowed.

"I'm sorry." She repeated closing her eyes. Why did she always have to make mistakes in front of him? Her cheeks turned pink in embarrassment.

"No need to be, Your Highness. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"And why would you be, my Lord?"

He felt her voice vibrating through his chest, and an unexpected shiver went down his spine.

"I was scared and I did not know how to act. My mind went blank and I just kept going, hoping to be done as soon as possible. I didn't realise You were crying until You pulled away from me. I'm sorry."

"It makes me feel better to know that."

"It shouldn't. Your husband is a coward."

She stilled her body. Was that not what she thought of herself not too long ago?

"It's alright, you're not alone. We're a couple of cowards."

He chuckled, "You're not a coward."

"I ran away, you stayed. That makes me more of a coward than you, my Lord."

"You were brave enough to step out."

She contemplated his sentence in silence. His heart beated rhythmically, and she allowed the scent of books coming from his shirt to pervade her nostrils.

"For tonight, I think it's best we stop here", he proposed.

"But it's mandatory. We must share the bed tonight. It's our duty."

"We can always lie."

"That means you'll most definitely not be the father of a Prince."

"We'll work on sleeping together. For now, we can hold hands and share the same bed."

"How do you know it will happen?"

"We're married, we're young and I'm extremely handsome. If not for the hormones, something else will get us there."

She chuckled, "are you really okay with lying?"

"I have never been more okay with anything else."

He lifted her up, and although she would not have been okay with such a treatment, for that night she decided to let it go.

He delicately placed her on top of the bed, and wiped her tears from her cheeks with his handkerchief.

"I'm sorry."

"Have I not told You not to be?"

"It's not for what happened."

"What is it for then?"

"I thought of you as someone to beware of."

"Why's that?"

"Your social skills are better than I anticipated. You aren't a recluse because you cannot socialise, but because you chose not to. You knew I would ask you to be my concubinus instead of Emperor, and I assumed you would force yourself on me tonight."

He caressed her hair. "I won't be offended by the last statement."

"You would have every right to be."

"You are wrong on one thing besides that."

"About what?"

"About me having good social skills."

"Do you not, my Lord?"

"In truth, I cannot express myself as well as I intend most of the time," he chuckled dryly, "I wanted you to see me as a resourceful and reliable partner, since I wish to obtain the seat of Emperor, but I ended up scaring you."

This time, it was her turn to laugh.

"At least we cleared up that misunderstanding."

"At last we did."

"I feel better."

"You do, Your Highness?"

She nodded.

"That's good. I'm sorry for the door."

She chuckled, "it's okay, I believe the Palace can afford a new one."

"Mh-mh. I wonder what kind of rumours will spring from that."

"Hopefully nothing regarding your homosexuality."

He laughed in embarrassment, "please let us bury such things in the past."

"No, I will enjoy teasing you about it some more."

"Your Highness-" His red face was enough to make her burst into a fit of laughter.

"How does the Dorkas gift work for you?" She asked eventually. As far as the Empress remembered, just like hers it changed from bearer to bearer.

"Similar to my fathers. I can destroy, but I cannot bring anything back."

"My father could. I cannot." Her father had the blessing of repair. That is all her gift could do. Repair the broken things.

"It's rather odd. Our gifts should be complementary, generation in generation."

"I can make flowers bloom, grow trees, roots. I can bring back plants from death, but I cannot heal any human."

"Quite similar to your grandfather's."

She nodded.

"What differs from your father's?"

He seemed to weigh his words. "Unlike me, he could only make objects disappear."