Chapter 18
DAHLIA
Tauren doesn’t leave my side for the rest of the night. When we arrive at his tower, he watches me eat, then looms like a shadow in the corner of his bedchamber while servants prepare me for bed.
The moment I slip between the sheets, I hear his clothes hit the floor and feel the bed dipping behind me. Pulling me against his chest, he drapes his leg over my thighs.
All week I’ve known I cannot marry Tauren, and yet every time I found myself alone with Claren, I couldn’t bring myself to ask for help.
I know he’d remove my collar. He’s been so kind to me – even more so after what happened in the throne room. But if he helps me escape and Tauren finds out…
I shiver thinking about the way he launched Lady Urma across the throne room. Would he hurt Claren too? His little brother?
I can’t risk it.
For hours I lie there, listening to Tauren’s slow breaths.
Until a soft hand taps me on the shoulder and I wake with a gasp.
“Forgive me, Princess.” A young demon girl stands by the bed, her hands clasped in front of her servant’s gown.
Sitting up, I glance around the room. Tauren is gone. The only sign he was ever here are crumpled bedsheets, along with his lingering smell of crackling fires.
“He’s preparing for the wedding ceremony,” she says before I can ask.
“He requested we come and prepare you too. I’ve prepared a bath for you to wash in, and your wedding gown has just been delivered.
” Starlight from the window makes her eyes glitter.
“Do you have any preferences for your hair? Or for your make-up?”
I almost tell her I would prefer another hour in bed, but then I stop myself.
While Tauren was sleeping, I came up with a plan – a way to make him feel as humiliated as I did in his throne room last week. And if I use enough mud, he might even beg for me to leave him.
Who’d want to marry a monster, after all?
“Oh yes.” I grin wickedly. “I have many preferences…”
Hours later, I’m hiking up the puffy skirts of my wedding gown as several guards follow me down a steep hill to the nearest pond.
I told the servants not to bother with anything special for my make-up, but they painted my lips crimson anyway.
My hair had been styled in luscious curls and finished with a silver tiara, despite my constant protests.
It’s a shame, really. They shouldn’t have bothered.
It’ll all come off in the water.
“Princess Dahlia, are you sure this is necessary?” my servant panics. She’s trying her best to keep my skirt off the ground, but it’s too heavy for her, and I’m walking way too fast.
“Of course.” I ignore another loud rip as my gown catches on dead branches.
“It is tradition in my kingdom for young ladies to dip their feet in the nearest pond on the morning of their wedding. You really should’ve done your research.
” Thankfully, she hadn’t. If she had, then she’d know this was all nonsense.
“But it is almost midmoon now!” the demon girl blurts. “And we could’ve brought a bucket of pond water to your bedchamber for you. There’s really no need to risk ruining your—”
I gasp as if appalled. “A muddy skirt is nothing compared to angering the Stars, dear girl. Do you wish for me to have bad luck today?” I clutch my heart. “My friend Emelia forgot to dip her feet before her wedding, and do you know what happened?”
The girl pales, shaking her head.
“Her poor husband got hit by a carriage minutes after the ceremony! Would you like to see Lord Tauren get hit by a carriage?” I’ve never had a friend called Emelia, but the way the poor girl gasps is too funny to resist.
“Of course not, Your Highness.” She gathers my skirt with more determination than before. “The pond is not far now, and as long as you’re quick, we’ll have time to fix your dress before the ceremony. You’ll have all the luck you need.”
“Good. An hour of soaking should do the trick.”
“An hour?” She looks close to fainting. Somehow, she manages to stay standing long enough to help me through the curtain of withered trees that border the pond.
The high moon and a dusting of stars reflect in the still water. Reeds sway gently in the night air, accompanied by the soft hooting of an owl and the croaking of frogs.
It’s quite dreamy, actually. Or at least, it was until I stomp through the water, splashing as much mud and algae as I can onto the white tulle of my skirt.
“Princess! Your gown!” my servant yelps from the shore.
Ignoring her, I splash around until the entire lower half of my skirt is soaked with mud. “It’s so lovely in here,” I laugh over her panicking.
I suppose I should feel guilty. The gown really is quite lovely.
Apparently, Girabalt chose it himself after we left his shop yesterday, delivering it a few hours before I woke.
It’s nothing like the scandalous ones I tried on.
The tulle skirt is wide, and its stiff bodice pushes my breasts up so they look quite appealing.
Delicate long sleeves decorate my arms with a lacy flower design.
It’s similar to what I would’ve chosen had I not been so busy trying to torment Tauren. Too bad I’m nowhere near finished with his torment.
“Princess Dahlia, please!” my servant sobs.
Lifting up my skirt, I give her a friendly wave. “Almost finished,” I lie, before I pretend to slip on something and throw myself backwards. Water crashes over my face.
“Princess!”
Guards race towards me. I’m pulled up, coughing and spluttering. Wet hair flops over my face. As I push it out of my eyes, my now-broken tiara falls into my lap.
“Whoops,” I giggle. “How clumsy am I?” The guards help me to my feet, but I squirm out of their grasp a few more times, just for fun, until my once-pure-white gown would look more at home in a swamp.
During my final fall, I reach inside my boot and pull out a flask. Popping off the cap, I fill it with slimy water, making sure to scoop up a tadpole or two for good measure. Before the guards notice, it’s screwed shut and back inside my boot.
I’m a soaked mess by the time they bring me to shore.
“Sorry about that.” I wring out my skirt, chuckling. “Hopefully Tauren won’t mind.”
My servant, now passed out on the forest floor, doesn’t reply.
I make the guards wait until she wakes up before they escort me to the wedding ceremony.
I’ll admit I feel a little bad.
I wasn’t expecting her to faint twice because of what I did. The first time because I fell and ruined my gown in the pond. The second because she woke up and realised my mud-covered gown was not, in fact, a nightmare and that we were already late for the ceremony.
When we finally make it to the outdoor space decorated for the wedding, the poor girl looks like she’s going to faint again.
“It’s alright.” I squeeze her hand. We’re tucked out of sight behind a set of gnarled trees. “I’ll make sure Tauren knows this isn’t your fault.” She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me at all, but before I can convince her, a soft voice touches my side.
“Dahlia?” Claren emerges from the trees. He’s dressed in regal black clothing with an embroidered cape. “What happened to you?” he gasps.
Grinning, I smear more mud from my bodice onto my cheek. “Do you like it? Since I’m marrying a monster, I thought I’d try to look more like one. What do you think?”
“It’s, um…” He swallows. “Actually, maybe we should find you another dress. I’m sure Tauren would rather—”
“Tauren will marry me now or I will tell him you are personally responsible for delaying his wedding,” I snap. I hate the way his body shrinks, but I have to do this now. The longer we’re out here, the more I’m thinking I should just beg him to remove my collar and have him escape with me.
Claren won’t meet my gaze. “I’ve been instructed to walk you down the aisle.”
“Perfect.” I take his hand quickly.
As we approach a wall of brambles, a servant girl passes me a bouquet of pink flowers, her eyes widening at me.
I take the flowers, even though they look ridiculous paired with my monstrous appearance. But they do make it easier to hide the small flask now pressed against the stems.
The second we pass through a gap in the brambles, my eyes grow as wide as the servant girl’s.
Pretty orb lights hang from a soft fabric ceiling.
White benches seat demon guests, each row finished with pink flowers, like bursts of colour above the dark demon grass.
More petals line the aisle, some red and others pink.
As my eyes follow them down the long aisle, a breath catches in my throat.
At the end of the aisle, stood under a tall flower-filled arch, is my custard-haired demon lord.
But he’s never looked more murderous.
“What is the meaning of this?” he snarls, but the music has already started and the guests are standing for my arrival.
Soft music weaves through gasps as each guest turns to look at me. Even Pumpkin, who’s curled up on a seat in the front row, lets out a startled whine, while the more Tauren stares, the more his jaw unhinges.
He’d look handsome if he wasn’t so shocked.
A dark crown, mimicking tree branches, sits upon his head. A black coat with intricate silver details fits snugly over his chest. Like Claren, he wears an embroidered cape that’s long enough to reach his leather boots.
Speaking of, poor Claren can barely walk on his shaking knees. When we reach the end of the aisle, he releases me beside Tauren and hurries away before I can even thank him.
As the music slows, I grin innocently at the demon lord. “I like your crown.” My fingers reach up to touch it. Mud smears onto the metal. Oops.
“What happened?” he growls. “Were you attacked?”
“Oh, no,” I giggle. “I just fancied a quick dip before the ceremony started. There wasn’t time to change.”
He doesn’t reply, just watches me with an unreadable expression on his face.
An old demon dressed in red ambles up to us under the arch. He passes me a surprised look before clearing his throat and reading aloud from a small book.
My mind tunes out as he speaks. I focus on counting the petals in front of me instead of the pounding heart in my chest.
“They’re dahlias,” Tauren whispers.
“Oh,” I breathe. I didn’t realise.
Eventually, the old demon closes the book and passes it to a guard. It’s replaced with a box, which he opens and holds between us. Two silver rings glisten up at me.
For some reason, my heart flutters.
With shaking fingers, I slide the larger ring onto Tauren’s hand, repeating the words I’m given while trying not to think about what they mean.
Before my hand can return to the safety of my flowers, Tauren takes it in his and slides the smaller ring on.
His powerful gaze meets mine. “I, Lord Tauren of the Demon Court, take Princess Dahlia to be my wife. To be mine forever as I am hers. Death will not part us.” After he speaks, I feel an odd weight lift from me, and something slides off my neck. It’s like someone loosening a—
I gasp. The thin red choker falls from my neck. It lands in the space between our feet.
“You are my wife now.” Tauren’s hand tightens around mine. “The collar is no longer necessary.”
I glance up at him, and a swallow lodges in my throat. I suspect it will be there for a very long time.
“By the power vested in me,” the old demon drones on, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Tauren, you may kiss your bride.”
My heart lurches. The demon guests watching us cheer.
In that moment, three things happen very quickly all at once:
Lifting the flowers to my face, I take a swig from the small flask.
Tauren lowers my flowers to kiss me.
I squirt the contents of my mouth into his until he chokes and spurts green pond water all over the guests in the front row.