Chapter Text
You had to hand it to Lumireign, they never seemed to do anything halfway.
The wedding gown they had made for you alone had to have cost a small fortune, all done up in lace and beading that clung to your torso tightly as if every breath was an affront to its craftsmanship. And you were certainly testing those limits now, watching the grand ballroom doors swing open on your matrimony.
It hadn’t been a surprise when your father announced your hand had been sold off to the highest bidder- in this case, King Eddison of Lumireign-, but it had very much surprised you at how quickly the day you dreaded had come.
You had always believed that you would one day be able to shake the shackles of your title. Dreams of running off and starting a life where your head was not constantly weighed down by the responsibilities and requirements of the crown you were born into were frequent. And you certainly created your fair share of problems for your father back in Hearthwyn because of them. You had run off no less than a dozen times in your youth, absconding to the nearby, thickly wooded reaches of your kingdom with hopes of finally disappearing so deeply into the rich greens and substantial canopies they held that your father’s men would eventually give up the chase and let you roam forever. Free.
He had always made reference to the concept of you one day ‘earning your keep’ to the kingdom. You had spent many years laughing off the concept, blissfully ignorant to the way that- despite the land’s other acceptances- the kingdoms still used their daughters as pawns to further political endeavors. Your fantasy came crashing down one day several moons prior when you had overheard your father explaining to his advisors that he planned to announce your eligibility for marriage, hoping for a match advantageous enough to secure Hearthwyn’s prosperity for decades.
Make no mistake, you loved your kingdom. You had been raised to admire her fortitude and strength as the central kingdom in the land. To respect the trade that her expansive countrysides, rife with tall trees, brought to your people and to your family. But Hearthwyn was just that; reinforced, all-encompassing, secure . It was a kingdom whose reputation was built on tall, thick forests and even taller, thicker walls wrapping around its borders and its palace. You had been kept under lock and key for as long as you had been alive. Rambunctious, yes, but still contained all the same.
There was nothing you longed for more than to run freely through open air, to crash into the waters of a roiling blue sea and find that you could make any decision you pleased. The desire made itself incredibly apparent in the canvas and paints you would immerse yourself in after being returned to the castle at the conclusion of an escape attempt. You would swirl blues, greens, and browns this way and that to try to mimic the stories you had heard of the oceans that other kingdoms had easy access to, but every time would come up with a creation that felt false.
The ocean called to you like the sirens sailors warned stalked her waters. The inability to ever feel her waters lapping against your legs or smell the way her salt tinged the air with something thick and present was a reality you refused to accept. It was the one benefit of this arranged marriage, you had come to believe; Lumireign bordered an ocean. The only problem? It was on the other side of the kingdom from the palace. You wondered naively if you might be able to convince King Eddison to take you there someday. The stable trade of Lumireign sea salts and fruit crops to Pantreia in the north clearly afforded the kingdom enough comforts to concoct such an elaborate wedding ceremony. Enough to afford the purchase of you like a prized chattel.
Brilliant gold adornments hung from every wall of the grand ballroom, accented with deep navies in varying shades that you were confident Hearthwyn would have never been able to afford the dyes to create. Indigo plants, you had learned in your studies, exclusively grew in Atthera; located on the opposite side of the land from Lumireign. It would have cost an inordinate amount to have the plants transported here, and even more for their powders to be applied to the fine silks that now graced the ballroom for this one day. A glance down confirmed that the dark blues were also embedded as fine threads in the skirt of your dress.
The space, despite its near-overwhelming size, was filled with the sweet, indulgent smells of vanilla and spices that you could immediately recognize from the galas your father used to host in the palace. It soothed your nerves slightly as the small crowd assembled in the room rose politely to greet your entrance. You paced steadily down the aisle, looking for all the world like the confident and sure princess of Hearthwyn they undoubtedly all expected. It was odd, though. As you made your way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but notice that all of the garments worn by those in the crowd seemed to be dress uniforms. Creamy whites overlaid with golds and blues as if they, too, had been decorated to match the room.
At the head of the room, you could see the outline of your soon-to-be-husband becoming more detailed with every step. His dark ensemble composed of the rich blues that filled the room betrayed his status, as if the ornate, solid gold crown that caught the light of a nearby window didn’t do so well enough. You schooled your heart into as rhythmic of a pace as you could, pushing at the thought that your last chance of freedom was slipping away with every step forward, until you found yourself turning to see the enigmatic king of Lumireign.
King Eddison was much more of a hermit than the other rulers of the lands. You supposed that made itself clear by the lack of other dignitaries or citizens present at a wedding of this grandeur. The only stories that had found their way to Hearthwyn regarding him were those of his bluntness and a dry sense of humor that even the most charismatic leaders struggled to crack into. A challenge, your mind supplied, as you finally met his eyes.
If you had been told that those steel eyes had the ability to look right into your very soul, you would’ve believed it in a heartbeat. King Eddison looked gruffer than you had imagined. Younger, too. Not the man of middle age- closer to your father’s than your own- that you had thought you would meet when you arrived at the altar. What aged the man most was the clear evidence of a lack of significant rest that left purple streaks beneath his eyes. If anything, though, he was handsome. As eclectic of features as you had ever seen on a person. Sharp jawline that faded into the gentle curve of his cheekbones, and a straight nose that rested between rounded eyes that clashed heavily with the intense look in them. You supposed you could get used to looking at a face as beautifully intriguing as his.
He observed you with a similar scrutiny to your own. You imagined he was ensuring that what he had bought was worth the surely heavy cost he had paid. So much time you spent, dancing around each other’s gazes in a waltz that had no one leader, that you barely heard the officiant proclaiming you husband and wife until the roar of applause returned you to the moment, and King Eddison was holding out a hand to you.
You took it with all the grace you had been trained to show as he escorted you off of the altar, which was quickly cleared by palace staff in favor of a large space to dance. From the king’s side, you could now see the small team of instrumentalists whose music lilted through the air on the breeze in one corner, arranged opposite an assortment of food so grand you could have easily assumed that it was intended to feed the whole kingdom. You were silently thankful for the warmth of the king’s hand under yours, otherwise you were sure you would have escaped your own body with the lavishness of the whole affair. Hearthwyn could never dream of creating a soiree of this magnitude unless your father had intended to invite all the kingdoms within the walls.
The music that had until this moment been light and airy shifted to a tune more deep and romantic, ripping you from your revelry with a violence you had never thought to attribute to mere sounds. Your body rushed with muscle memory as King Eddison lifted your joined hands into a standard waltz hold, years of being trained to be a dancer worthy of representing Hearthwyn on the floor flooding you faster than you could think of it.
The pair of you drifted silently, easily around the ballroom, the only pair taking any steps at all for a moment until a soft shift in the tone of the music seemed to signal that others could join you. Eddie was a good dancer. Sure and traditional in the way he moved, his hand never daring to drift from your waist as he guided the two of you around the floor. It was nearly impossible to ignore the way that, even as they split into partners and began their own movement patterns, eyes still seemed to linger on you.
“Do you always attract this much attention?” You hadn’t anticipated your new husband to be the one to break the silence, and if you hadn’t heard the voice so closely, you wouldn’t have thought the remark had come from him by the way his expression schooled into the one of cool indifference he seemed to wear throughout the ceremony. It was the face of a king, you reminded yourself, a kind of mask to perpetuate the attitude that one’s people expected of their ruler. His voice matched that mask, touched with an edge of roughness you wouldn’t have expected from someone of his status and age. The voice of someone who had lived and experienced. You added it to the mental list of things that intrigued you about your new partner.
“Well, it is our wedding after all. Perhaps it is not me who is attracting attention, but you?” You quipped back to King Eddison, feeling a wash of pride run over you as the corner of the king’s mouth quirked in amusement, “The sparkle of this gown helps as well, I suppose.” Your eyes flickered down to the skirt of your gown. Large and made imposing by layers of fabric, the crystals draped in patterns over the topmost piece of silk were shimmering softly with every movement you made.
That earned a short, breathy laugh from the king, who pushed you away lightly to spin you in the waltz and unintentionally showing off in full detail the deep truth of your statement. Each crystal and bead seemed to catch the glow of sunset as you spun back to be chest-to-chest with him.
“You are nearly blinding.” He muttered to you alone, that odd quarter-smile still teasing on his lips and betraying the joke of his statement. You hadn’t considered it possible that he would be the type to joke back at you, but found pleasant surprise in the warmth the quiet act had sprouted in your heart. A shimmer of hope almost as bright as that of your bedazzlements.
“Perhaps I will request that all my garments be so embellished. Keep you on your toes.” You chanced a move slightly closer to him during the next motion in the dance, deriving a moment of sweet enjoyment from the way the hand on your waist slid ever-so-slightly further around, preventing you from recreating the space you had previously maintained, even if you had wanted to.
“You’ve got a sense of humor. ‘Wasn’t expecting that.” King Eddison hesitantly pulled away from you to bow, the song attached to that particular waltz coming to a slow end. His dark hair shone in the light of the massive chandelier hanging from the center of the room, a gleam that alerted you to the fact that the sun had long slipped below the horizon line, and the ballroom had been coated in a warm orange glow created by the candles and chandeliers that lined it up and down from every angle. You lowered into a deep curtsy to the king, who rose with you and offered his arm for you to take. A smile found its home on your lips at the gesture, and you easily wrapped your arm around his, allowing him to lead you to the vast table of mouth-watering delicacies to continue your conversation. Even as you walked off of the dance floor, you still felt as if there were eyes on you. You chalked it up to your new status, even as the feeling crept over your shoulder like a poison in your veins.
“Quite the compliment from the stoic King Eddison I have heard so little about.” You met the king’s comment easily, though neither of you held any ill will behind the words you shared. King Eddison has just selected a small piece of toasted bread topped with strawberries, a dark-colored sticky sauce, and flakes that you could only identify as Lumireignian sea salt and moved to bite into the morsel when he reacted to your statement. He shook his head lightly and flicked his hand back and forth in front of his neck as he swallowed down the bite. You couldn’t fight the minute laugh that bubbled forth at the sudden casualness of the action.
“No need for my title, please.” Eddison corrected, tilting his head towards the spread as if to signal that you select something of your own to eat. You had meant to refuse, to be as polite and ladylike as you had been trained to be all these years, but your eyes caught on a plate of small tarts further down the table. They were topped with what you could see were slices of brightly-colored peaches. You had heard tales about the quality of Lumireignian fruit, but the trade system did not favor their delivery to Hearthwyn. Eddison watched you thoughtfully throughout the motions of your selecting one of the tarts and taking your first bite. It was unlike anything you had ever tasted before. Sharpness and sweetness and a soft tang from the cream that laid under the fruit played together in a beautiful harmony that you weren’t sure could be replicated in any kingdom but this.
“If all of the food is like this then at the very least, dear Eddison, I believe we could grow to be great friends.” Your eyes must have betrayed your feelings towards the treat, as Eddison’s wry smile easily formed into a laugh that rang like a bell in your mind. You would certainly enjoy hearing that more frequently. You polished off the remainder of the tart in two bites, patting at your lips to ensure no offending crumbs had been left behind. Eddison simply shook his head with a shallow fondness.
“We’ll see about that, sparkler,” his arm was once again extended to you in invitation, “but I think so, too.” As you accepted the silent gesture, you noticed that the ballroom had seemingly emptied on its own without a word. Now, it was just the two of you remaining in the grand room, and the entire space felt just that more eerie in its newfound hollowness. You allowed Eddison to continue to lead you, mentally doing your best to map out the pathway you’d followed so that you would be at least a bit less lost come tomorrow. The two of you ventured up a staircase to the rear of the room, taking a right down a long hallway and up another staircase to two sets of identical wooden doors.
To your surprise, Eddison stopped outside of the first set, taking a moment to hold your hands in his own before allowing you to pull away and starting his path towards the second set.
You were immediately hit with confusion. According to all traditions that you had listened to rattled off in your time as a royal, the most common and easily accepted was that a man and woman spent their first night married together to consummate the marriage. To have Eddison walk away from you so easily was a jarring feeling, and instantly set your calm and collected demeanor off its track.
“Are you not, I mean, shall we, I-,” You paused when Eddison quirked an eyebrow at you, willing you to take a breath and begin your question over again, “Are we not meant to go to bed together on our wedding night?”
Eddison smiled at the notion as if you had just hit him with another quip, and simply shook his head, portraying the idea that this was a long-forgone conclusion that needed no more discussion.
“We just met. I won’t make you follow that, sparkler. We can discuss it more when they start begging for an heir.” His hand wrapped easily around the hanging handle of his chambers, giving it a sharp tug that betrayed his familiarity with the eccentricities of the wood. He started in towards the room, ready to step away from you fully for the night, but stopped himself suddenly with a look back to you.
“Oh, since we’re married now and all, you can call me Eddie.” Eddie’s smile lit over his lips, but the slight tension you saw drawing in his cheeks and the way that his eyes looked at you with something like trust shining in them already betrayed the fact that this was not a part of himself he showed many people. “Sleep well, my queen.” You nodded to him.
“And you, my king.” You bade him with a similar, softer grin. Parting ways, you felt your new life beginning to settle comfortably in your bones.