The Cold Wedding
1016 Words
Lilith winced as the last pin slid into her hair to secure it.
“You look wonderful, Your Majesty.” Her Lady maid complimented.
She stared back at her reflection in the mirror.
Wild gold blonde curls, tamed by bobbin pins; sapphire jewels to match her powder blue eyes; the red royal regalia cascaded down to the marble floor.
There wasn't going to be any wedding ceremony. She didn't understand why she had to dress so formally.
“It is time, Your Majesty.”
Lilith took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heartbeat, and stepped outside. With every step she took, the pins in her hair pricked at her scalp.
It was torture, and she couldn't show it. She was a princess, after all.
When Lilith entered the council chamber, her eyes took in the room.
It was spacious, crisp and immaculate but lacked life. A large polished desk with a scroll and an ink tub with a quill dipped inside. She made a mental note of the people present.
Her father, a notary, the members of the high court, another man she did not recognize and…him.
She no longer only felt the earlier nervousness when she looked ahead to her husband-to-be.
What she felt was hatred. Pure and undiluted.
She took in his appearance.
His attire was also colored red, similar to the color of blood, like the many, untold lives that he had taken.
She noticed the way his raven black hair shone under the bright light of the crystal chandelier. Those deep, icy blue eyes sharply assessing her. Assessing his buy.
She faced him defiantly, her eyes meeting his with equal parts defiance and fear.
His gaze was as unnerving as she remembered.
Maybe even more.
*****
EZEKIEL POV
The moment she stepped into the room, his pulse throbbed in a way he hadn't thought was possible. Just like when he had first saw her.
She was a goddess. Her gold blonde hair was tied up, revealing her slender neck. Her eyes, the softest of blue he'd ever gazed upon, filled with defiance.
Her dress filled the whole aisle. He wondered if it was heavy at all.
Her figure was soft, tempting, even clad with such formal wear; it was evident. The alluring swell of her chest, slender waist, and the soft curve of her hip dipping with every graceful step she took.
Ezekiel did not bother hiding his scrutiny. He couldn't hide it, even if he wanted to. She was too much of a treat, a tempting morsel not to gaze upon.
And soon, she would be his.
They continued to hold each other's gaze. Those eyes that seemed to gaze so deeply into his dark twisted soul. He could almost feel the tremor in her spine, though she held her chin high. Fear. Hatred. Defiance. All wrapped in one delicate frame, and all of it made him intrigued.
Far more than he'd ever been.
She bowed, one curly tendril of hair coming loose from its coiffure. It took everything inside of him not to tuck it right back in.He did not let himself get closer. He didn't trust himself enough to.
“Your Majesty.”
That voice, it was like that of an angel's. He could never forget it. It was already imprinted in his mind, his soul. He knew that it would haunt his dreams nights to come.
***
Ezekiel did not speak.
His gaze followed her as she rose and faced the notary, trying not to falter. She looked composed, yet the weight of his gaze made her pulse skip.
The notary spoke in a formal, detached voice and read the marriage contract aloud. The treaties that would come to place with their union.
It was time. She stepped forward toward the table, quill in hand, then hesitated. Her fingers were trembling. Every instinct in her screamed to comply, to act as the obedient bride.
Her pulse quickened.
Ezekiel noticed. Of course he did.
His cold, blue eyes seemed to sharpen the moment her hand wavered. He did not move, did not speak, but the intensity of his stare was enough to make her knees weak.
The notary cleared his throat and glanced between them. "Your Majesty, the marriage contract."
She breathed in slowly, hand grasping the quill tightly, trying to steady herself.
The scroll looked regular, almost trivial—but it was much more than that. A permanent claim.
It would make her tied to him.
Forever.
He wrote and signed his name. Boldly—quickly. Then itwas her turn.
Lilith bent her wrist and wrote her name, slowly. Deliberately dragging the quill across the page. As if somehow, if she took all the time to sign the scroll, she could escape her fate. She set the quill down when she was done, her hand shaking.
He didn't say a word, didn't move toward her-but the air between them was taut with possession.
She was his, officially, in ink and under the law.
She was Queen of Ravar. Congratulations were in order.
Her father wished her well; his eyes weren't warm in the slightest. It was only etiquette. Lilith didn't get to see her mother. She knew that. She wondered if she ever would again. They weren't the closest throughout her childhood but she was still her mother.
Everyone in the room bowed to them as they exited the room but not before shooting pitiful looks in her direction as they made their way to their carriage that awaited them. They all knew.
“Now presenting His Majesty, King Ezekiel of Ravar Kingdom and his bride Queen Lilith!”
There was an answering chant.
“All hail the King and Queen!”
Lilith casted one last glance at the palace. The place she'd always known as home. The thought of leaving behind all that she knew brought tears to her eyes. She tried blinking them away.
Ezekiel, still not taking his eyes off her, leaned in closer, almost dangerously so.
That sinister, wicked smile on his lips.
“Save your tears, angel, for later.”
- Writer
