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Chapter 15 - GARDENS, GRANDWOOD CASTLE

ARIELLE;

Right, well, I'm officially adding Gorgon slaying to my list of skills. Right under excellent tea party hostess and just above mediocre embroidery. Although, after last night, I'm thinking perhaps monster vanquisher should be higher. I perch on my bedroom window seat, gazing out at the Aegean Sea doing its best impression of shimmering turquoise, and try not to dwell on the lingering echoes of Euryale's rather unpleasant screams.

Honestly, the entire affair was rather disruptive. And now, because of it, my wedding has been rudely crammed into my morning schedule. It's all so very inconvenient, really. One minute I am minding my own business, sipping chamomile tea, and the next I am being told a Gorgon princess wishes to marry me off to the Underworld.

But it's Caith's eyes I can't shake. Those crimson depths, that billowing black smoke… It was terrifying, yes, but also… undeniably captivating. It seems this Man has a touch of the demonic in him, and frankly, I'm not entirely sure how to feel about that. On one hand, it is alarming. On the other, is it rather… thrilling? Although, I am most interested in that demonic energy. What does that mean for me?

Then there's the small matter of the wedding itself. Today, I am apparently becoming a wife. And, well, if I'm being perfectly honest, I have absolutely no idea what that entails. My understanding of marriage extends to a vague notion of shared residences and the occasional exchanging of pretty trinkets. Of course, I have never had a love or even a man. It's been decided I am to marry him and that is that.

It's not as though my education has prepared me for any of this. I have an extensive knowledge of history, politics, and various forms of martial arts. If anyone is ever going to be stranded with me on a desert island I'm quite certain I would be an amazing choice. I can hold my own in a debate, negotiate a treaty, and even wield a sword with a reasonable degree of competence. I am a princess after all, it comes with the territory. But the nuances of conjugal bliss? The… duties of a wife? Utterly uncharted territory.

I glance at the stack of etiquette books on my bedside table, each promising to unlock the secrets of marital harmony. They look positively terrifying. Honestly, I am more prepared to battle a hydra than to navigate the labyrinthine world of husbandly expectations.

The truth is, beneath the tiara and the carefully constructed composure, I'm a bit of a fraud. I am known for being compassionate and kind. I am not certain if those qualities are true, or if I am putting on a show. I am the face of a nation. I have strong, intelligent, and funny. Casual, witty, and sometimes wry. I am not quite sure that I have ever fallen in love with.

I am, however, also resourceful, intelligent, and possessed of a strong, if somewhat quiet, will. And let's not forget the aforementioned talent for outwitting Gorgons. So perhaps, just perhaps, I can navigate this marriage thing with a modicum of grace. I am a princess, after all. Adaptability is in my blood.

But right now, as I gaze out at the vast expanse of the sea, I cannot help but wonder what I am about to get myself into. What does the future hold? One thing is clear: my life is about to change in ways I cannot possibly imagine. I must be prepared.

**********************************************************************************************

The Celebrant's voice, a warm, resonant baritone, washes over the assembled crowd, a soothing counterpoint to the frantic flutter of butterflies currently staging a full-blown acrobatic performance in my stomach. Friends, family, loved ones… I scan the faces before me, a sea of familiar and not-so-familiar visages.

There's Mother, looking regal as ever in her emerald gown, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of pride and, if I'm not mistaken, a hint of mischief. Azriel stands tall beside her, his expression as stoic as always, though I detect a subtle softening around the edges. My heart warms. They are here. They survived last night, and they are here for me. I am going to be alright.

The gardens, usually a haven of carefully cultivated serenity, seem to vibrate with nervous energy. The damage to the Grand Hall, courtesy of our unwelcome Gorgon visitor, has necessitated this outdoor affair. Honestly, I prefer it. The sunlight filtering through the trees, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of roses… it all feels far more… authentic. More me. It is quite a lovely setup, although the timing still feels rushed.

I take a deep breath, trying to project an air of serene confidence, even though I feel about as composed as a runaway chariot. It would be best if I just stuck to the script.

Caith is waiting for me at the front, a figure of striking elegance in his crimson attire. The color, I realize, is likely traditional for his people, a splash of vibrant royalty against the backdrop of verdant green. He looks… magnificent. Regal. And, dare I say, rather fetching. It is very difficult not to stare. His beauty really shines in the mornings.

I, on the other hand, opted for simplicity. A flowing white peplos and himation, unadorned save for a delicate silver clasp at my shoulder. It feels… right. Understated, yet elegant. Classic, yet me. All the better to show off my personality, I suppose.

As we make our way to the front, I can feel his gaze on me, warm and steady. He offers me a small smile, and for a moment, the butterflies quiet down. Perhaps, just perhaps, this won't be a complete disaster. I really hope it won't be.

The Celebrant continues, his words echoing through the garden. "Marriage is a sacred and binding union… a gift of companionship… to comfort life's sorrows and magnify its joys…"

It all sounds rather… daunting. Companionship? Joy? Sorrows? I am completely inexperienced in these matters. My mother only gave me the word list. I am pretty sure I have more of an idea about the words than how to act them out.

This is a great responsibility. And, it is the intention of Caith and Arielle to love one another with a devotion that will grow stronger with each passing day. In so doing, they will build a life together far better than either could have imagined alone."

Well, that's a tall order. Devotion? A life together? My brain scrambles for the answers. How is any of this supposed to work when I barely know this man?

But as I look at Caith, at the kindness in his eyes, at the strength etched in his features, I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage can be something more than a political alliance, a strategic necessity. Maybe, just maybe, it can be… well, I don't know what yet.

But it is only that perhaps, that little spark, that makes me stay where I am. 

The Celebrant nods solemnly. "In the sight of the Creator, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Let it be known that Caith of House Adem and Arielle of House Khaven, are one heart, one flesh, one soul."

Well, that certainly sounds… permanent. Eternity is a rather long time, isn't it? I can barely commit to choosing what to wear to a dinner party a week in advance, let alone a lifetime of shared heartbeats and fused souls. I hope that means I get to have half of whatever dessert Caith orders.

The Celebrant retrieves a small, rather sharp-looking blade, and my stomach performs another routine, this time featuring loads of twists. Is this… standard procedure? It certainly wasn't covered in my hastily compiled pre-wedding crash course.

He takes Caith's hand, and with a swift, practiced movement, slices his palm. Caith barely flinches, his expression remaining stoic as a small bead of blood wells up. I gulp, trying to project an air of calm nonchalance, even though I am desperately wishing I'd skipped breakfast. My stomach is grumbling from the hunger by the way.

Then the Celebrant turns to me, his eyes expectant. He asks for my palm. Well this is something.

I hesitate. Honestly, I am all for a bit of dramatic flair, but I'm not particularly keen on being sliced open in front of several hundred people. But the Celebrant's expression brooks no argument, and Mother is giving me that "don't you dare embarrass me" look, so with a deep breath, I extend my hand. This is the point of no return.

The blade flashes, and a sharp, stinging pain shoots through my palm. I wince, but manage to maintain a semblance of composure. Perhaps I shall begin practicing battle strategies during my free time, seems likely to be needed. My blood is pooling in my hand, bright red against my pale skin, and suddenly, this whole charade feels a little too real.

The Celebrant takes my bleeding hand and places it firmly into Caith's. Our palms meet, a strange, unsettling sensation of warmth and stickiness. Our blood mingles, swirls together, becoming a single, unified flow.

"With this you are bound by blood, one single flow, one person, one heartbeat," the Celebrant intones, his voice resonating with a strange, almost mystical power.

He binds our hands together with a thick, red ribbon, further cementing the bond. I can feel Caith's pulse against mine, a steady rhythm that strangely soothes my nerves. Or makes me nervous. I can't tell what makes me feel what anymore.

"Look upon one another and say the words," the Celebrant instructs.

We turn to face each other, our hands bound together, our fates intertwined. I look into Caith's eyes, searching for something, anything, that will give me some indication of what lies ahead. And I find… kindness. And perhaps a hint of nervousness, mirrored in my own heart.

Together, we recite the vows.

"Before the Creator and all here assembled, I make my sacred promise. My trust is our bond, and our love is our guide. I pledge to honor you, to protect you, and to stand by your side. We were two, now we are one, and so shall we remain until my last breath. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."

The words feel… strange on my tongue. Powerful, certainly, but also alien. I am making these promises, committing myself to this man, and I have no idea what I am doing. Hopefully this will all be figured out some way or another. How bad can it truly get?

"With this kiss, they pledge their love. I now pronounce you wed, united in heart and soul forever!" the Celebrant proclaims.

Kiss? Really? Another area where my knowledge is woefully lacking. Are there rules for this sort of thing? Is there a correct way to kiss someone? What if I do it wrong? I am rather terrified.

Caith pulls me closer, his gaze locking with mine. His eyes are no longer crimson. Only the gorgeous blue eyes I know. And that feels safe. He leans in, his face drawing nearer, and a strange, fluttery sensation erupts in my stomach, quite different from the earlier acrobatic routines. This feels different to anything I have ever known.

His lips meet mine, soft and tentative at first, then growing in warmth and confidence. It's… surprisingly pleasant. I close my eyes, surrendering to the moment, and for a brief, fleeting instant, I forget all my doubts, all my fears, all my ignorance.

The kiss is a seal on the ceremony.

"It is my honor to be the first to introduce the newly united couple, Caith and Arielle Callum!" the Celebrant announces.

The guests erupt in applause, showering us with white rose petals, a fragrant blizzard of celebration. I open my eyes, blinking against the sunlight, and find myself looking at Caith. He looks at me with the same look that I give him. It's all terrifying, and yet a sign that it will all be fine.

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