The room was filled with the smell of roses and the faint sound of giggles.
While her maids combed her hair and adorned her ears, neck and hands with jewels, the young woman of twenty three years old watched her anxious reflection in the mirror.
— Her highness looks exquisite, doesn't she? Everyone will be dumbfounded by your beauty, dear princess. — Her main maid, Zena, exclaimed. The other maids smiled in agreement.
— Indeed. — Queen Letinna looked proudly at her daughter. — I am sure prince Rhovian will be very satisfied.
With her mother's words, princess Ylenna's heart sank to her stomach.
— What if… his highness actually dislikes me? — She muttered, almost all to herself.
— Nonsense! — The queen dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. — You're always much pretty, my child, but there's no one in the world who would not be captured by your beauty today. You look splendid. Of course, you take after me. They wrote many songs about my splendourosity when I married your father.
Ylenna, who would normally laugh and roll her eyes at her not a little humble mother, now could only nod nervously, blinking and taking deep and short breaths to regulate her speeding heart.
Noticing her daughter's anxiousness, Letinna approached, taking the girl's hands in hers.
— Ylenna, my baby. Do not you worry this pretty little head of yours. Prince Rhovian is a man, after all. And, God forgive me, son of King Ronan Kozhar, who took another wife even after his deceased first wife gave him two boys. — Letinna did not hide the outrage in her voice. — Moreover, only a blind man would not be heels over head for such a beauty as his bride. And Prince Rhovian has quite a good sight, I must say, since he's so good of an archer. There's no way he will not be pleased with you. And… what could he do, after all? It is not as if he could call off the engagement just because the bride does not suit his taste. And he has seen you before, one many times. What are you worried with?
— You are right, as always, mother. — Ylenna forced a smile. — I am just nervous… It is all.
— That is completely normal, my darling. It is your grand day. All women surely get nervous on their white veil occasions.
Letinna bought her daughter's excuse, but Ylenna still couldn't lay aside the concern, when she knew the truth.
Prince Rhovian Kozhar hated her.
Since the first time she met him, he had the same dull expression on his face when looking at her, as if she could not be more interesting than a blank wall. Whenever talking to his or her family, though, he was always warmer and even smiled a lot.
But that wouldn't be enough for her to infer that he had such strong negative feelings toward her. On the day their engagement was announced, at a banquet in her family's castle, though, she realized how much he despised her.
It was one of the many times one of the three kingdoms would hold a banquet and invite the other two kingdoms' representatives to their castle. As always, Ylenna asked for her ladies-in-waiting to doll her up, so she could meet prince Rhovian with her best appearance.
But, as always, the young man didn't ever pay any more attention to her than, obliged by the rules of courtesy and etiquette, kiss her hand and greet her with a nod.
That evening, though, when her father, King Yann Behrman, announced to all the guests about the union between the two kingdoms' through Ylenna and Rhovian's marriage, she could see the hatred in his eyes.
It was a surprise for her, too, who didn't even have a say nor a heads-up regarding the matter, but she was sure that her face only showed a shocked expression, while Rhovian seemed to burn inside with so much anger. His face was wrinkled and he held his cup with such strength that, even a bit from afar, she could see his hand shaking and his knuckles turning pale.
Later that night, Ylenna was taking a stroll at the garden when she heard arguing voices.
— (...) strong and needed alliance between the nations.
— Why me? Why could it not be Rhemo? — Rhovian's voice sounded anguished from anger.
— You are my second son, Rhemo is younger than you and even too young to get married. He will have his wedding later on, but right now, it is your turn to be of help to our nation.
— I do not want this. I will not marry princess Ylenna, no matter what you say. I have lived my whole life by your design, but please, not this.
— Careful, now. I am your father and king, Rhovian. You cannot possibly disobey me. I advice you to be reasonable. Do not make things harder…
Without wanting to hear anything else, Ylenna fled from the gardens as fast as she could.
The Kozhar delegation went back to their kingdom as soon as the next dawn came, and princess Ylenna could only wait until the day this so dreadful event would come.
A few months had passed when she arrived at Kozhar's nation with her family, two days before the wedding. Now, whatever was from that argument between the prince and his father, and whatever the prince tried to avoid this fate, they were about to get married.
— Your highness, we are finished. You are ready. — Her maid spoke, dragging Ylenna from her sour thoughts.
She stood, finally looking at herself in the finished outfit for the occasion.
Ylenna had long, brownish hair that fell to her waist in big waves. Her skin was slightly tanned and her eyes were a strong copper color.
Her wedding dress had a discreetly revealing neckline, the sleeves were puffy on the shoulders and just on the arms. The fabric adjusted to her waist and the skirt opened up in a beautiful rounded shape. She looked, indeed, magnificent.
— Come, dear. Let us head to the church.
She stood on the outside of the church, holding a big bouquet of white roses. The doors were closed, as everyone should be accommodating to their seats, inside of the building.
"Breathe" she thought to herself, trying her best not to faint.
Whatever Prince Rhovian's opinions on her were, the day had come, and he would not be disobedient enough to refuse to marry now, after he had let all those months come and go without calling it quits.
Before she could think too much of it, the doors opened while music started to be played. Ylenna took a last short breath before walking down the aisle, concentrating so she would not stumble. Everyone rose in their places and looked at her in awe with encouraging smiles. She did her best trying to smile back to the guests, without daring to glance at her fiancee at the altar. Ylenna was sure that seeing his despising face before making it to his side would make her freeze in her steps.
When she got close to him, Rhovian bowed politely. Ylenna answered with a curtsy and took the hand he offered without so much as looking up. Then, they both faced the archbishop and kneeled. Ylenna could barely make sense out of the words being said, but she managed to answer a reasonably sonorous 'I do' when asked if she accepted to take Prince Rhovian as her husband. Rhovian repeated the words, accepting her as wife.
— I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, your royal highness.
The prince got up and offered her his hands in help. She turned to face him, but maintained her head straight, staring at his neckline. She could not help but notice how strong he looked from up close. His neck had some bulging veins and the muscles were popping up. Before she could pull her thoughts together, the prince removed the thin veil and, in that short moment, she lifted her eyes, meeting his.
Rhovian had dark brown hair that usually reached his thick eyebrows, but it was combed back for the wedding. His skin was two shades darker than Ylenna's, and his eyes were of an intense black. His full lips caught her attention even more than his pronounced jawline.
The princess noticed that he had a different expression on his face. All she could make of it was that he didn't seem angry, nor completely dull. It was more like curiosity, maybe, but she still didn't have the time to figure out what it meant, because he soon cupped her face in his hand, approached her and sealed their lips with a gentle, soft kiss. In a fleeting moment, Rhovian moved his lips a bit more and she could feel the humidity of his mouth in the last second of the touch. When he drove them apart, she found herself longing for more.