Chapter 9 #2
Her vibrant red hair starkly contrasted the white, jewel-encrusted gown.
A delicate and simple diadem sat atop her head.
Long waves of fiery hair flowing down her back.
Thank the Gods she did not let the attendants dampen her beauty with those fussy braids once more.
Her brown freckles were scattered across her cheeks, and when she finally stepped in front of me, I saw the suggestion of a smile on her lips.
It retreated as her father released her hand into my care.
I took it, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine.
Knowing that my palm felt the complete opposite.
I already knew all the words that would come out of the High Priest’s mouth.
I drowned them out and continued to stare into Esiree’s dreamy eyes.
When I first met her, they had appeared blue, but in this lighting they had hints of seafoam green.
My normally keen sense of vision had become unreliable in the presence of her unique beauty.
Time truly seemed to stand still. When the brief romantic sentiments of the High Priest concluded, I knew more pragmatic declarations would follow.
“Do you, Lady Esiree, take King Vastion to be your wedded husband, and for all your days serve Devana by his side, until your death do you part?”
I absolutely despised that adjustment in phrasing.
I was an immortal marrying a human, and it was always presumed their passing would be what concluded the marriage, and thus the vows became null and void.
The contractual nature of it all was ever present.
Lost in a well of my own irritated thoughts, I was jarred back to reality when Esiree finally spoke for the first time.
“It would be my honor to serve Devana.”
I almost let out a sigh of relief that she did not deny me in front of my most esteemed citizens, but I did not want her to know how easily she had already crawled under my skin and made me doubt myself, so I gave her a simple nod of acceptance.
“And do you, King Vastion, welcome Lady Esiree as your bride and loyal servant as Devana’s human queen, until her final breath?”
There was a momentary drop in Esiree’s expression, but she recovered quickly and reset. I was unsure if it was fear, sadness, hopelessness, or all of the above. Something was there to uncover. Her true feelings. With time, I would earn my wife’s truth.
“I long to be worthy of Lady Esiree.”
The sound of the crowd’s whispers and murmurs followed my unexpected reply, but I ignored their sentiment.
Her breath hitched and I felt her squeeze my hand ever so tighter.
“And I shall serve her all my days, until her last breath.” I tried not to shutter at the inevitability of it all.
The cycle repeating itself. The fleetingness of her life compared to mine.
“A ring, unending and unbending like your commitment to one another and the peace you wish to sustain. You may place this token on your bride’s hand, sealing your vow.”
After the High Priest’s words came to a close, I slid my hand into my jacket pocket and revealed the moonstone ring.
Three crescent moons surrounding a full moon in the middle—all made from my mother’s stones.
I lifted it to her finger and watched her stare at it in awe.
I’d somehow found a way to genuinely please her, which delighted me to no end.
A rarity for my dear firebird, I was sure.
Subsequently, she slid a band of braided metal onto my finger, no doubt crafted by a metalsmith from her home.
I admired the toil that must have been involved in forging such a piece, though it fell short of Vampyr standards.
Still, it was tradition for the territories to provide the binding token to the union, and for this I was appreciative.
With our rings placed solidly on each other’s hands, there was one final crescendo to be had—and I couldn’t recollect a time I’d been more nervous.
It had been years since I’d kissed anyone for real.
Adria and I had occasionally kept up the charade for appearance’s sake.
The woman before me—my wife, I thought to myself, letting the feeling of the word sink in once more—she was someone I actually desired.
She intrigued me, and my curiosity to know her had me feeling nervously boyish in a way I hadn’t in centuries. Was that my hand beginning to shake?
“You may kiss the bride!” the High Priest declared, and the guests sat in anticipatory silence, waiting to cheer. But Esiree and I just stared into one another’s eyes, unmoving. Waiting to see who would lean in first.
My throat bobbed and my lips felt dry. Move, I told myself. Trying to muster the courage to take her the way I wanted to. But all these feelings were once again so strange and new. They had atrophied, leaving me frozen.
Suddenly, Esiree closed her eyes and leaned in with her lips parted ever so slightly.
Unable to control myself now, I reached up to cup both sides of her face with my hands and pulled her soft lips to mine.
Before I knew it, I was pressing into the kiss, deepening it for a moment longer before I gently released my grasp.
Her eyes fluttered open, expression surprised.
Before we could take in the moment any longer, the loud sounds of applause, whistles and cheers reverberated through the tent, and we stepped back from one another.
As we walked down the aisle hand in hand, together for the first time as husband and wife, I glanced briefly at her to witness how she reacted to our citizens bowing to her as we slowly passed by.
She held her chin up, attempting to project confidence, but her pale cheeks blushed with each step forward, and I couldn’t quite pinpoint the emotion. Bashfulness?
I gave her hand a small squeeze, drawing her gaze to mine, and offered her a slight nod of encouragement.
A simple smile of gratitude spread across her luminous face as we led our guests to a larger tent situated nearby.
While everyone began to take their places at the long tables, filling their goblets and plates, I knew that it was customary to escort Esiree and her family to the back of the tent for more formalities.
Everything to follow, along with our travels to her new home, would all happen quickly.
My trusted advisors would waste no time in getting things in order for our departure.
“My Queen,” Lord Elek said, trying to catch Esiree’s attention. But she was distracted, scanning the room and still unfamiliar with her new title.
I leaned in closely and whispered, “Es.” I enjoyed the sound of the nickname on my tongue. When she had introduced herself, she said I may call her by her informal name if it pleased me. And it very much did. For a moment, my mind raced with thoughts of calling her name as she writhed against…
She quickly jerked her head toward our small group, bringing us both back to the moment.
“My Queen,” Elek started again, “during your reign you will keep official correspondence. When writing on behalf of the Crown, your and Vastion’s letters will contain the royal seal of Devana.”
A symbol I’m sure she knew well, as it was painted and embroidered on many flags and banners decorating the encampment.
Elek continued, “Your private correspondence, however, remains yours alone. A token from your gracious king, so you may stay connected to your loved ones no matter the distance or obligations of your new title. To ensure authenticity of said communications, we have our most gifted metalsmith here to prepare your personal seal.”
Esiree’s father, Nile, and brother both listened intently to Lord Elek’s explanation.
“We ask that you declare a personal symbol so that we can begin creation of your seal this evening. Upon your family’s departure, they will be provided the matching pair to your seal.
We expect that all parties’ correspondences will use this official seal and that neither party ever reveals the nature of the symbol to outsiders, for this creates risk of forgery.
No letters will be accepted or dispatched unless they feature your mark. ”
Worry etched itself in Esiree’s brow as she looked to her father for guidance. When he did not offer her any direction, she looked up at me and a wicked smile began to form on her perfect, pouty lips. What are you up to now, my firebird?
“The symbol I choose is a sun…”
Lord Elek and her family gasped in unison. A vein of panic began to pulse across her father’s tan forehead. But then she continued, “…flower. I’d like my seal to don a sunflower.”