CHAPTER THREE
HELIASTOODIN the antechamber of her suite, which functioned as a receiving room. The luxury she found herself in was not something she could get used to. She had been given these splendid rooms the day she’d agreed to be Queen, and she had been in shock then. She wasn’t entirely sure that it had worn off yet.
There were paintings on her ceiling! And Helia was certain her whole apartment would have fit numerous times into this suite.
She hadn’t been allowed to return home. Her belongings has been sent for. As Vasili had warned her, once she’d agreed, she’d had little choice.
Two weeks. That was how long it had been since Helia had given the King her word that she would marry him. And that time had been filled with what she called her ‘Queen Lessons’.
Being a librarian had given her vast knowledge on many different topics. She was proud of how well read she was. But no level of intelligence or knowledge could have prepared her for this.
Every single day was filled with lessons on politics, decorum, history... She’d had every part of her scrutinised. From her posture to her table manners to her appearance. It made her feel lacking in a way she had never considered before. She’d been given a list of literature that it would be appropriate for a queen to have read. She didn’t mind that so much—at least she had the books for company—but she loathed being told what she was ‘permitted’ to read. She’d let it go for now, keeping her eyes on the reason she was doing any of this. Besides, when she was Queen her requests would not be ignored. Or so she hoped.
She had even been made to undergo a physical examination with the private royal physician, and it seemed so had Vasili—as evidenced by the copy of his all-clear results that was given to her. It made sense, considering they expected her to bear his children at some point. But she still didn’t know how she felt about that.
She required a great deal of patience, as every ‘lesson’ was filled with jabs at her background. Comments on how the lessons would not be necessary if she were a royal. Whispers that she should not be going on the throne. That her very presence had thrown their plans into disarray. Helia was set to be their queen, and yet none of them saw fit to hide their disdain.
All it did was make her square her shoulders and lift her chin. She would show them that she would not let them drag her down, even if their words pierced her armour and broke down what little confidence she had.
Those two frantic weeks had gone by in the blink of an eye. And now here she was. Standing alone in her suite in the most spectacular wedding dress she had ever seen. A sheath of fine, hand-made lace, it caressed her chest and fell to the floor. She touched the band of lace around her upper arms, exposing her golden shoulders. The full-length mirror that had been placed in the room reflected a woman who looked like her, but couldn’t possibly be.
She turned slightly, admiring the way the dress hugged every part of her. From below her shoulder blades all the way down, ending in a long, dramatic train. It reminded her of the bubbly wash along the shore as the waves broke.
Perhaps it had reminded others of it too. Which would explain the sapphire and diamond tiara in her hair, which had been styled into an elegant chignon. It sparkled like a sprinkling of the sea. There were sapphires in her ears too. Dainty little drops that would take no attention away from the masterpiece that was the dress.
My wedding dress, she thought, her hands growing clammy.
She tried taking deep calming breaths as the full extent of what she was about to embark upon crashed over her. Was she doing the right thing? What if all the whispers were true? She was an orphan who had come from nothing. Would she be an adequate queen? Did she have any right to believe she could be?
Helia turned to fully face her reflection in the mirror, wondering if she had been na?ve about the reality of her future. But these doubts were her own to bear. She couldn’t back out now. This was her only way to help all the forgotten people, like herself when she was in the care system. Most kids from the orphanage didn’t grow into powerful adults. They became people just doing what they could to get by. She was one of the lucky ones, and fortune had truly smiled down on her. It would be foolish to think there wouldn’t be a price to pay for it. So she would use whatever royal power she could to help those who meant the most to her.
She was under no illusions. Helia knew this would be one of the hardest challenges she would ever have to navigate. But she stood on the precipice of fulfilling a wish she had held so dear for all these years. A wish that she could make a difference.
And there was another reason why she couldn’t back out. One that felt as vital as breathing. She’d given Vasili her word. He’d given her a chance to back out and she had said she wouldn’t. That promise might mean little to him, but it meant something important to her—because she had made it to him.
She was well aware that he didn’t want this marriage, but duty had given him no choice. She had to find a way to get him on her side and keep him there, so that she could realise her plans. She would have to learn to be the Queen he needed. Yet another thing to make her feel uneasy...
Helia hadn’t seen Vasili at all in the two weeks that had passed. The lessons had taken up all of her time, and she assumed he had been coming to terms with being king. So there had been silence. She supposed she could have reached out in some way—but so could he. At the end of each day she’d been so tired she’d often fallen asleep as soon as she’d collapsed on her bed. She hadn’t even been allowed back to the library, which had made her miserable. But at least she had the comfort of some books in her room.
She didn’t know what to expect when she walked down the aisle. There had been no dress rehearsals. Andreas and Carissa had simply explained the order of events to her.
Would Vasili be there at the end of the aisle? Or would he choose to go against the wishes of his advisors? What would she do if he wasn’t there? He had admitted that he wanted to leave. She remembered with great clarity the remoteness in him when they had agreed to marry. His reluctance.
It had stung, but she couldn’t hold it against him.
She took a deep breath. Then another. Falling down this spiral would help nothing. She had a duty. If Vasili wasn’t at the altar, she would deal with it then.
A firm knock sounded on the door and she whirled around just as Andreas walked into the room, dressed in a tailcoat.
‘Good, you’re ready.’
Helia was used to his lack of greeting by now, as if he was far too busy to waste even precious seconds.
‘I think you could pass for a queen already.’
‘I think that could almost pass for a compliment,’ she retorted.
Her relationship with Andreas was now in a rather odd place. He was no longer her boss. In fact, once she was Queen she would be much higher up the hierarchy than him. But he still had far more knowledge of this royal world than she did. His disdain for her was certainly still on display, but it couldn’t last for ever. She would learn what she had to in order to deal with all the palace staff—including him.
‘Perhaps.’ He stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘A little ill,’ she said truthfully.
‘To be expected. Just remember what you’re supposed to do and say, and it will be fine.’
Helia nodded. As pre-wedding pep talks went, Andreas’s attempt was abominable, but she hadn’t really expected comfort from him.
‘The carriage is outside,’ he informed her, before taking a step closer. ‘And my offer to walk you down the aisle still stands.’
‘I appreciate that, but my answer is still no, thank you.’
‘That isn’t our tradition.’
Helia wanted to say that neither was the King marrying someone who wasn’t of noble birth, but she held her tongue. Andreas had made the offer several times. She knew it wasn’t out of kindness but rather wanting the right image. But she had always known that she would have no one to walk her down the aisle if she ever married. Her father had died, and no one else deserved the honour.
Helia had had to rely on herself for a long time, and she wasn’t the only one who did so. The world she came from was filled with people just like her, so she would walk herself. It would be a show of strength and solidarity for them, even though it was another break in tradition.
‘Shall we?’ She gestured to the door.
Andreas held it open and several women stepped into the room, each of them holding up part of the long, lacy train of her dress as they set off through the palace and then helped her into a waiting carriage, pulled by four magnificent white horses. The carriage itself was white, with gilding and hints of lapis lazuli. Pure opulence.
As soon as the door was closed, they set off for the cathedral.
Vasili stood at the altar of the largest cathedral in Seidon. Alone. There were cameras all over the place. As discreet as they tried to be, he still saw them. Media trucks crowded much of the square outside. The royal wedding was being televised throughout the nation. Vasili pretended they didn’t exist. This wedding was a show. He found nothing sacred in it.
He cast his gaze down the long aisle, where a thick red carpet had been laid over the stone floors. Pillars topped with elaborate white flower arrangements stood proud on either side. Light filtering in from the high windows illuminated them. Slight shadows played on the sculptures attached to the columns that towered all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. Row upon row of people dripping in wealth sat in their finery, waiting for the arrival of the would-be queen.
Vasili ignored all of them. He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the closed doors, standing almost preternaturally still with his hands clasped at his back. His only movement was running his thumb back and forth along the gold accents on the cuff of his jacket. He was decked in full royal regalia. A gold sash sat over his jacket and there was a ceremonial sword at his waist. He felt ridiculous in the uniform. He would never have worn it given the choice, but nothing about what was happening was about choice. He knew he projected the kind of image a king should. Strong and regal. Inside, he wanted that door to open so they could get this wedding over with.
Standing alone meant he had every eye on him. Having someone beside him would have diluted the attention, but he hadn’t wanted anyone to stand with him. The only person who should have had the privilege was dead. And, while he was getting married and ensuring Thalonia’s future, he wanted no one to forget that Leander was gone. One king was dead and he had already been replaced by another. There was a celebration planned, and a coronation would follow the wedding. He found it all repugnant.
This should have been Leander’s wedding, not his. Vasili would have happily stood beside his brother. He was the one groomed for the life of a king. He could almost hear fate’s shrill laugh as he waited for his bride to arrive so he could become the King no one had asked for. But, no matter how much he hated the situation he was in, this was the very reason for which he had been born. A fact he’d had to come to terms with over the last few weeks. He hadn’t seen Helia at all during that time, but she hadn’t been far from his mind.
The image of her pinned beneath him against the door assaulted him frequently. Particularly in his dreams, when he would wake up hard and panting. It was perhaps a mistake to have kept his distance. Andreas had informed him of her progress during her lessons. The older man’s disapproval had leaked into every report, but it had made him smile. Vasili cursed himself now, because he could have used that time to get to know her. See if they had anything in common. Find out what she loved other than books—because he was yet to meet a librarian who didn’t. Truly get to the bottom of why she was martyring herself like this.
Perhaps rebellion was so rooted in him that he had hated what was occurring so much that avoiding Helia had been just another way to rebel against the crown. It was a belated realisation, he knew, because now they were on the verge of getting married and he still wished to bolt from the church.
The doors slowly swung open, and it was officially too late.
How did she feel about him staying away? he wondered. The palace was already full of pretentious snobs—he could only imagine how lonely the past two weeks must have been for her. He regretted his actions now. He should have given her a way to contact him. After all, it was his fault that she was being taken from her comfortable life.
Was she reluctant to go through with this wedding? Was she nervous? Would she walk through those doors at all? Given how he felt towards the throne, he wouldn’t hold it against her if she decided not to show up. He had certainly given her reason not to say yes. No doubt Andreas would quickly take the opportunity to find him a different bride. One who fitted in with his idea of the perfect queen.
He half expected to see the man walk in now, to tell him his bride had left. And for some reason the idea of not seeing those caramel curls or those blue eyes felt like a loss he didn’t want to endure. But then the hum of numerous people getting to their feet sounded through the cathedral and a lone violin played chords that were both beautiful and sorrowful, making the hairs on Vasili’s arms rise.
But it wasn’t the music that stole his breath. It wasn’t the magnificent building with all its rich history. The sole reason he felt as if he was in the crushing depths of the sea, with no air in his lungs, was the woman standing in the doorway. Her curled hair was pulled back, with a few loose tendrils framing her face, catching the filtered light like a corona around her...a divine crown. He didn’t blame anyone for the gasps he heard echo around the chamber. If he’d had any air he might have gasped too.
She stood alone, just like him. A pillar of regal strength. And he felt it then: her eyes latching on to his as she glided down the aisle. Her dress trailed long after her in an ocean of lace, as if she carried the sea wherever she went. A more perfect queen he could not imagine. Vasili hadn’t even known of Helia until just two weeks ago, and now he wondered how a secret like her could ever have been kept in this place.
She was utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful.
He didn’t expect the swift punch of guilt that came next. This stunning woman was an innocent. He knew nothing about her. Perhaps she had a life she loved. Maybe she loved being in that library. And just because she’d happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, he had dragged her into this madness with him. Vasili had thought of her as a secret, and maybe she’d been safer that way. Because the moment he had seen her, he had turned her world upside down. For that there should be no forgiveness. He deserved his punishment of life as the King he didn’t want to be, locked in a loveless marriage he didn’t want, but there was no way Helia deserved that fate. She deserved a life of pure happiness. Especially since back in his office he’d sensed a hardship she didn’t want to talk about.
But he couldn’t stop the wedding. Not now. It would cause unspeakable embarrassment to her, and he just didn’t have it in him to be that cruel.
As Helia drew close, the corner of her mouth kicked up just the tiniest fraction, and he returned her small smile with one of his own. He held out his hand once she was close enough, feeling a current tingle across his palms as her skin made contact with his. He helped her up the small step.
‘Hello, Vasili,’ she whispered as she came to stand in front of him.
He swore he could see relief on her face. Had she been worried that he wouldn’t be here? He supposed he’d given her no reason to trust that he would.
‘Helia.’
He smiled down at her, taking her in. From the tiara on her head to the lace band around her bare arms, to the dress that kissed the ground with her every movement.
Vasili lost the battle of trying not to touch her, grazing his finger along what was hardly a sleeve. He pulled his hand back as the bishop let out an amused chuckle. He barely heard the man speak. All he could concentrate on was Helia. So he took her hands in his, and immediately the calm he had felt in her presence before descended upon him.
It was more than calm. It was as if every ounce of his attention was being drawn to one place. Helia. To that hum between their bodies. To the current travelling along their skin. There was temptation here.
‘Vasili...’ Helia whispered with a tiny smile, urging him to pay attention.
He heard the bishop gently clear his throat.
He was so focused on Helia that he hadn’t even noticed it that the moment in which he would have to promise himself to her was upon them. The moment when he would have to say words he didn’t believe in. He still did not want to be married, but there was no way around this, so with great effort he held his frustration at bay and made his vows.
He slid a large blue gem onto her finger. The French cut blue diamond reflected the light infinitely, like crushed ice, as the two smaller white diamonds on either side twinkled prettily in their platinum setting. The jewel had been in his family for generations, but none of the previous Queens had worn it. All had opted for something far more garish, but he couldn’t think of a better suited choice. Helia was different from all those who had come before her, and that was something worth celebrating.
‘Vasili...’ Helia’s voice rang out sweet and clear. ‘I take you to be my husband, for better, for worse, to love and to cherish. And to stand by you alone, for all of our days.’
He didn’t understand the feeling that overcame him at hearing those added words.
Helia had fire in her and would not bend to the will of others. Not easily at least. Understanding her message, he couldn’t help but smile. She would stand by him alone. Not by Andreas or Carissa or the demands of the crown. She had just announced to all of Thalonia that she intended to be his partner.
You are King now. The crown can be whatever you want it to be.
He would have her support to do just that.
‘You may now kiss the bride.’
Vasili heard the words. The moment he had craved and dreaded was upon him. For two weeks he had wanted to kiss her. Images of her against the door of his office flashed in his mind once again. He had wanted a taste of her then, and after replaying that moment so frequently he wasn’t sure that he would be able to stop once his lips met hers.
So, with her hands still in his, Vasili mustered every bit of control he had and leaned in, placing a chaste kiss upon her lips. But as if it were a trap, designed just for him, that one simple touch caused the very air to snap around them.
He couldn’t stop kissing her if he tried.
A buzzing warmth trailed over him from the contact of their lips, winding through his body, until his arms went around her and her hands found their way to his chest.
He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. This innocent kiss was more overwhelming than any he had had before. Every other kiss he’d experienced in his life had been a means to an end. Merely a seduction to make the pay-off greater. Every one of those fell into the shadow of this one.
Without even realising it, he brought up a hand to cup her face, angling his head to kiss her more deeply. And, as if they had danced this particular dance before, she moved with him, opening to him as his tongue caressed hers. Igniting his blood.
He swallowed the sigh she breathed into him.
He’d thought there was nothing sacred about this wedding, but he found the divine in Helia’s pillowy lips. She was soft and sweet and tentative. Everything he realised he had been imagining she would be, but more. Calm and crazed. Trapped and free. This embrace devoured him. Her eager responses spurred him on to kiss her harder, deeper.
He was utterly lost to the current that swept them both away, and it was only the sound of polite clapping and an amused chuckle close by that broke through the haze, wrenching him back.
With careful tenderness he pulled away, noticing the look in Helia’s eyes, like a raging sea. And he knew she was just as affected as he was.
Maybe there was an up-side to this marriage after all.