The Marriage of Two

I stood before him, my husband, at the altar, our hands joined together by a bit of colourful rope while the grand priest recited words of prayer from his platform over us.

Arranged it was, my marriage, as is customary for someone with a status such as mine. Ever since I was a girl, this union was known to me. My parents made sure of it.

Throughout my youth, I was trained in the ways of a queen who would serve as an equal to her king and carry their legacy. Remaining chaste and faithful was a simple task, despite never meeting my husband to be.

Not once did it cross my mind that we would love each other instantly. I never imagined him sweeping me off my feet.

The fact that his beautiful face was a mask of neutrality, however, threw me a bit off-kilter.

From what I had read, he was supposed to hate me. That was what the novels said about arranged marriages such as these.

Strange.

"I hereby declare thee, in the sacred name of Iduna, husband and wife."

Tilting my head, I gazed into blank amber eyes and puckered my lips, in return, he raised a dark eyebrow before leaning in.

His lips were plush and warm, beckoning me to press more firmly against them.

The books lied to me.

There was no sense of revulsion nor sparks and tingles all the way to my toes. There was just soft skin pressed to mine. It was nice, nevertheless.

In less than two seconds, I counted, he pulled away.

"One more, please," puckering my lips again, I waited.

There were giggles amongst the crowd but my groom continued to stare at me blankly.

Did he not hear me?

Tapping my finger to my lips, I raised myself to the tips of my toes and kissed his neck instead. Maybe he was nervous.

"Narcissa!"

My mother clutched at her pearls as she always did when she was offended.

Did I do something?

"Yes, Mother?" I lowered myself back to the floor and turned my full attention towards her.

"Show some decency!"

Decency? But was he not my husband?

Thinking back on the books I read, none of them said not to. All indicated the opposite. I was to shower him in kisses and love, unlike that other one who only wanted to poison him.

"Is he not my husband yet, Mother?"

This didn't make sense.

"Indeed, but-"

"Consummation has more than kissing though, and you said-"

"Not. Another. Word." Mother hissed between clenched teeth.

My husband sucked in a sharp breath and his hand jerked the rope. Is he ok? Is he mad I couldn't reach his lips?

Nodding to my mother, who looked just about ready to throw her fan at me…her fan. I would catch it. We always played that game, it was fun when the sharp wood didn't smack me in the face.

"Um…yes," the priest cleared his throat, "The kingdoms of Katar and Michovani are now united."

With those words, the priest unwound the colourful rope from our bound hands, allowing them to fall to our sides.

All in attendance rocked the castle with their applause, sparking something warm in my hollow chest.

Grabbing my husband by the hand, I dragged him to the middle of the ballroom so we may have our dance.

After the first dance was completed by the bride and groom, the ball would officially begin and continue until the clock struck twelve.

He was silent the whole time. Honey-coloured irises barely glanced at me, instead, regarding the guests who looked upon us with a sort of shrewdness.

Was he looking at others already? There were many beautiful figures in our audience.

The odd tingle in my chest died, replaced with the desire to impress him.

Large hands guided me smoothly across the pristine floors as the music from the orchestra swelled around us. This was nice…I think. My maids often told me I didn't know what was nice. Everything was nice to me.

The song faded to a stop when he dipped me deeply, his eyes finally looking directly into mine, lengthy eyelashes fluttering with each blink.

Bumping my nose to his, just as my pet wolves did, hoping he would once again lay those soft lips upon mine, only seemed to break the spell. Setting me back to sorts, he bowed and I curtsied before he was leading me off to the side.

Holding on to his arm, like my mother did my father, we stood side by side indulging in sweet, mulled wine.

Watching as his pretty lips pursed as he swallowed the spiced liquid, I had an urge to take his glass.

An indirect kiss, just like in The Prince's Paramour.

"What is it?"

His deep voice rumbled in my chest as he looked down his aquiline nose at me. Such a strong nose. I liked it. A strong nose for a strong voice.

"I would like a kiss."

I meant to say cup, but asking wouldn't hurt. The guidebook said communication was the key to making relationships such as these work.

Eyes that sparkled like jewels in the chandelier bore down at me.

"You are quite a vulgar woman."

Vulgar?

"There is no such thing as vulgarity among newlyweds," his cheeks darkened at my words and he quickly looked away, "Are you embarrassed?"

Sputtering, he coughed and choked on his drink before slamming it on the table.

"Of course not!"

His cheeks had gotten even darker, all the way to the tips of his ears no matter how much he tried to hide it behind a gloved hand.

"So, will you grant me a kiss, dear husband?"

Pressing myself against his chest, I wrapped my arms around his neck. My feet dangled off the ground with how much he was leaning away.

Amber eyes were wide and darting about the place. Was I making him uncomfortable?

Couples in the books did this all the time though, no matter who was watching. Were they wrong again?

"Narcissa!"

My mother's shrill voice had me releasing my husband and bracing myself to catch her fan. Just as anticipated, the wooden object landed in my palm.

"I caught it, Mother."

The frown that marred her ageing face was wiped clean as she regarded my husband. With a curtsy so low, I was concerned she wouldn't be able to get back up, she snatched her fan as well as my wrist.

"Your Highness," her smile was blinding, "If I may speak to my daughter for a moment."

"But Mother-"

"Come along child, there are ladies who wish to meet you."

I had no desire to leave my husband but what Mother said was law. Cupboards were quite suffocating.

Tugging me to an empty balcony, she shoved the glass doors closed, effectively blocking out most of the music.

"Mother, I wish to go back."

"Go back!" She spun to me, her thick braid nearly smacking her in the face, "After such a display!"

"I don't quite understand, Mother."

Her hands clutched tightly at her fan as she paced the length of the balcony, heels clicking on the marble floors. Her pretty, pink dress swirled around her, allowing her to bear resemblance to her favoured flower, the pink oleander.

Finally, she stopped, her mismatched eyes glaring into mine. We were so similar yet different, she would tell me.

Same thick, coily hair, that took ages to style, same pear-shaped bodies. I even managed to copy every single pattern on her skin, yet, while she was prim and tight-lipped, I was supposedly clueless and blank. Only able to copy others.

"Narcissa."

"Yes, Mother?"

Her fan was spread firmly over the bottom half of her face, "All signs of affection you may have for your husband, remains in the bedroom."

"The books said-"

"Do not!"

My mouth clamped shut.

"I told you long ago to refrain from reading such tripe! They are filled with lies and false hope! Do not expect that man to tolerate you when you cannot keep your hands to yourself!"

This was not nice. My hands were shaking and there was something scratching the back of my throat. This was not nice.

"Narcissa," her grip was gentle on my shoulder as she used a soft handkerchief to wipe under my eyes, "You know I only want the best for you."

I nodded, leaning into her touch.

"No more vulgarity, ok."

"Yes, Mother."

When we re-entered the festivities, my eyes immediately searched for my husband. Finally, they landed upon curly black hair that towered above a mass of women who tittered and giggled around him.

"Go ensure he is not tempted this early."

Shoving me forward, my mother went back to Father who was in a similar situation. I watched as she plastered herself to his side and dragged him off to dance.

Following her example, I did the same.

His warm cheeks never darkened for the rest of the night, just as those eyes akin to a wolf's, never glanced at me again.

My chest hurts.

Finally, we were led to the room we would consummate our union.

My mother gave me a tight hug and my father kissed me on the forehead before wishing me luck. Mother held a strange expression as I was led away, I wonder why.

We stood in front of each other in the vast room, a large bed of gossamer sheets and many pillows to our left and a gilded, crackling fireplace to our right. The silver moonlight filtered through the glass windows, allowing my prince's dark skin to take on an almost ethereal glow.

After ten minutes of staring at the lush, red carpet, he spoke.

"My name," he bowed, placing a gloved hand over his heart and kissing the back of mine, "Is Maximillian Katar, crown prince of the Kingdom of Katar and now, your husband."

He lifted his head and finally looked me in the eye, those light brown hues shining golden in the moonlight.

"My third name is yours to choose."

I knew immediately what I wanted his third name to be, but held back as it was improper to say right after learning your partner's true name.

Curtseying low and kissing the back of his now bare hand, I responded in kind.

"My name is Narescinia Michovani, princess of the Kingdom of Michovani and now, your wife. My third name is yours to choose."

In our world, names had power. The name you were given at birth was tied to your very soul, so it was imperative to protect it. After your naming ceremony, where only your parents were allowed to attend, you were gifted a second name while your first was kept secret.

My hand reached out, unclasping his cape and allowing it to pool to the ground.

Maximillian cleared his throat, once again trying to hide his darkened cheeks with his hand.

We were in the bedroom, so what was the matter? Was he not supposed to be eager?

My hands paused at his cravat when an odd noise escaped his lips.

"I can't do this."

He backed away, pushing open the balcony doors and bracing himself on the stone rails.

I was doing it right…wasn't I?

Walking out to the balcony, I leant against his side. The breeze was cool against my exposed skin, carrying the songs of the mountains in its clutches.

"I have…," he trailed off, gravelly voice hushed as if he were telling me a shameful secret, "I have never done this before."

"Neither have I."

My response seemed to startle him as he jerked and stared at me. Those glowing eyes peering into mine, searching for something I wouldn't readily tell him.

"You lie."

"Why would I lie, Maximillian?"

"Then how are you so-" he scrunched up his strong nose, "-so sure in your actions?"

"I watched others do it, so don't worry," I showed him my thumb like I had seen the commoners and my maids do.

It meant something good, I think.

"I have read books but…What!"

He sputtered in an undignified manner, as my mother would say, and his cheeks flared to life.

"You deviant…Who raised you!"

I cocked my head to the side. What did they have to do with anything?

"The king and queen of Michovani and my wet nurse, Sheila."

He stared at me with a face I had only seen in the mirror, before sighing, "Your indifference is obscene."

"Is it?"

He grunted in response before pulling me back inside. We took our places at the foot of the bed once more and slowly began to undress each other.

Each layer I removed revealed red-brown skin, reminiscent of the fertile soil of my homeland, stretched over lean muscle. There was a scar near his pelvis that disappeared around his back like someone tried to cleave him in half.

Goosebumps raised on my skin as my dress, petticoats and finally, my crinoline cage fell to the ground, revealing my white underclothes.

The final button on his trousers was finally opened when he grabbed my wrist and buried his face in his hand.

"I know they're awfully tiny," another thing I had inherited from my mother, her almost non existent bosom.

Flat as a piece of wood my sisters would say, "You will have to bear with them."

Pressing myself against his chest, he nearly leapt onto the chandelier to get away.

"No, no! It's not…" he peeked through his fingers, "It's not that."

Tilting my head, my eyes trailed down his rigid figure to see the considerable bulge in his pants.

Oh!

Before he could back away even more, I hooked my fingers into his trousers and dragged them down, pulling his underwear with it.

"You perverted woman!"

Maximillian stumbled, luckily landing on an armchair before I dragged the offending items all the way off his muscular legs and threw them behind me.

"What are you doing!"

His large hands did nothing to hide the throbbing cock that seemed eager to be seen.

"The gods will be upset if we do not finish before sunrise," I quickly climbed onto his lap like I had seen the prostitute do.

"Are you trying to break it off!"

His voice rose an octave and his cheeks had gotten so much darker, it almost looked like it was about to explode.

His flailing had me bouncing on his lap and he hissed with each impact on my clothed bottom.

Finally, he stopped moving, settling on digging his fingers the into arms of the chair.

"Your bosom is in my face," he grumbled.

"You have a more impressive set than I do," I pinched a dusky nipple and he sucked in a breath, his cock twitching beneath me.

"Don't…Let's just…"

At his inability to put words together, the voice of my mother echoed in my mind.

"If he is inexperienced, take charge! Tie him to you as quickly as possible."

Getting off his lap, I turned my back to him, "Unlace me, please."

There was a moment of silence before there were fingers working at the laces. Finally, my corset slipped off and I quickly removed my shift as well, leaving my stockings. Mother never removed those.

This was going vastly different from what I had read. Kate and Edgar had known what to do on their wedding night. And in the bathroom…and the dining room…and the study. Did we have to go to those places too?

Calloused fingers traced the patterns on my back, the warm skin leaving tingling trails behind.

"Have you found Ysbette?"

"What?" Fingers abruptly paused at the light marking I was sure the vague outline was.

"Where your finger is, doesn't it look a bit like Ysbette on the map?"

A deep hum rumbled in his chest, "A bit, I suppose."

There was an unfamiliar feeling on my face. Turning to him, the feeling now gone, I pointed to the light patch of skin on my stomach.

"This looks like my wolf Cadmus, swirled together with his brother, Caelum."

"Y-Yes," he was covering his face again.

"Let us go to the bed."

Tugging him off the couch, I didn't let go of his hand until he was hovering over me on silk sheets. The golden glow of his eyes was gone, swallowed up by the endless black of his pupils.

"Kiss me, please."

Wrapping my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in soft, curly locks, I pulled him forward.

Our kisses were brief, getting longer and longer with each one and soon, he was pressing me into the sheets with his tongue rubbing against my own.

It was strange having another's tongue in my mouth. It was hot and wet and messy, saliva dripped down my chin and I could hardly breathe but it felt good.

There was an uncomfortable throbbing and wetness between my legs, the slide of Maximillian's shaft against it was no help either.

"Is it supposed to be so wet?" He gasped, running a finger along the mess, "You're soaking through the sheets."

I squirmed as fingers touched the place that I only had for experimental reasons. Practice made perfect, Mother had told me.

"You can put it in now."

"…Pardon?"

Stretching my hand down between us, I grabbed his engorged cock.

"It's warm," I pushed his sputtering form off me a little to take a peek.

It looked odd. Mother had shown me a sausage for demonstration but this did not look like a sausage.

For one, it had a thick vein running along the length of it and the head flared out a bit, resembling a mushroom. How cute. It was also curved a little, leaking pearly, white fluid from the tip. Swiping my thumb through the thick substance, I stuck it in my mouth.

"What are you-"

"A bit salty...taste mine."

"It will be a cold day-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as I had my fingers stuffed in his warm mouth, pressing against his tongue.

Ripping my hand from his mouth, he glared harshly at me. Was I too hasty?

The stormy look on his face disappeared as soon as he opened his mouth. Licking his lips, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Why in heaven's name is it so sweet!"

"A potion."

He stared at me for five seconds before his lips twitched and he was burying his face in my shoulder.

"This is ridiculous."

The laughter in his voice was unmistakable. It was deep and nearly silent, but it rang loud and clear in my ear as if he had screamed it from the top of the mountains. There was that strange feeling on my face again. What was it doing?

"Never take that potion again, ok?"

The intensity of that statement sent an odd shiver down my spine. Mother said to take the potion everyday but my husband didn't like it.

Mother said his opinion mattered.

"Okay," I conceded.

"Are you still wet?"

He never removed his face, only sliding his hand down between my thighs, rubbing through the fluid that never stopped leaking.

"Is this normal? There's so much."

"Yes."

Wrapping my arms around his neck, we tilted backwards until I lay beneath him once more and I felt him guide his rigid cock to my entrance.

"A little higher," I chided, holding his large hand and moving it where it was supposed to be.

"Ok…um…I'm going in."

He pushed forward, fingers firmly digging into my hip.

"Gods!"

After five minutes of testing the waters, and getting us used to the feeling, he was finally in. It was odd. I felt full, not in the way of feeling full after a hearty meal but a different kind, something I couldn't describe as it caused jolts to travel up my spine every time that fullness shifted.

"Mm, feels strange."

"Hold on," he whispered, voice strained as he shoved his hips forward.

Rolling over, I dragged the sheets over my head to block out the offensive sunlight blinding me behind my lids. My hips throbbed and there was an ache between my legs.

Reaching over, I felt for the man who took my virginity, my husband, only to feel nothing. Just a cold, empty space.

Where did he go?

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I relinquished my hold on the warm sheets, withdrew from the embrace of multiple soft pillows and rolled out of bed.

The bathroom was not, in fact, empty.

There he sat, dozing in a large bath filled with bubbles and steam as well as the faint scent of lavender. His face was covered in a green mask while his long hair was tied to the top of his head. Jars upon jars of products lined the gilded, marble walls of the opulent bathroom, reflecting the golden light of the sun, allowing the room a soft glow.

Completing my daily ablutions, I rubbed some of the same green cream on my face, tied my hair up and joined Maximillian in the warm, fragrant waters. He hardly moved when I settled myself between his legs and leant against his chest.

"What are you doing here, you vulgar woman?"

"Enjoying a bath with my husband."

His knee jerked as he let out a huff, resorting to splaying his palm over my stomach.

Was he expecting a baby already?

"Your skin interests me," he said drowsily, "So do your eyes."

"I like your eyes too," sinking deeper into the warmth of the sweet water, I continued, "They remind me of the sun at dusk. Dusk, that will be your third name."

"That is suitable," his chest vibrated against my back, "I am still considering yours."

"Ok."