The Royal Affair

Chapter 18

The castle was a whirlwind of activity, a beehive of organized chaos as preparations for the royal wedding reached their fever pitch. Servants rushed through the halls, their footsteps echoing on the stone floors, their arms laden with flowers, fabrics, and trays of food. The scent of perfumes and spices mingled in the air, creating a heady, intoxicating aroma. The great hall, transformed into a magnificent venue for the ceremony, shimmered with gold and silver decorations, its tapestries depicting scenes of love and prosperity.

Derek, his expression carefully neutral, assisted King Francis in his preparations. He helped the King with his elaborate wedding attire, adjusting the intricate embroidery and ensuring that every detail was perfect. Francis, his eyes gleaming with excitement, his voice brimming with anticipation, spoke incessantly about the wedding night.

"Tonight, Derek," he said, his tone suggestive, "tonight, I finally get to bed Alexa. I've been thinking about it since the moment I first laid eyes on her."

Derek tightened his jaw, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, mindlessly agreeing to the King's words, trying to block out the images that threatened to consume him. The thought of Francis and Alexa together, in that way, was a torment he could barely endure.

Francis, seemingly oblivious to Derek's inner turmoil, handed him a beautifully ornate box. "Take these to Alexa," he instructed, his voice authoritative. "The Queen's jewels. I want her to wear them today. A symbol of her new role."

Derek nodded, his hand trembling slightly as he took the box. He turned and walked towards Alexa's chambers, his footsteps heavy, his heart a leaden weight in his chest.

He knocked softly on the door, his knuckles rapping against the polished wood. One of Alexa's chambermaids, a young woman with rosy cheeks and wide eyes, answered. She blushed crimson when she saw Derek, her gaze lingering on his face.

Derek's breath hitched in his throat as he caught a glimpse of Alexa within the room. She was in a large, ornate tub, being bathed by her maidens. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head in a messy bun, with a few strands cascading down her face and neck, framing her delicate features. He couldn't help but notice the perfect swells of the top of her breasts that peeked out of the soapy water, the soft curve of her shoulder, the sunkissed, smooth skin. She was even more beautiful than he had imagined, an ethereal vision of grace and purity.

Derek cleared his throat, realizing his eyes had lingered too long. He forced himself to focus on the chambermaid. "The King requests that the Princess wear these for the ceremony," he said, his voice low and formal, offering the box.

The maid took the box with trembling hands, her eyes wide with awe. She bowed deeply. "Of course, Sir Derek," she whispered. She then turned and walked over to the other maids, her cheeks flushed. "Thank you," she said, gently closing the door.

The maidens giggled amongst themselves, their eyes sparkling with amusement. "He's so handsome," one whispered, her voice filled with admiration. "And so gentle and kind," another added, sighing dreamily.

Then, one maid smirked, her tone suddenly seductive. "Not to mention how big he is," she purred, "and amazing in bed."

The girls burst out in laughter, their voices a chorus of agreement. Alexa, her cheeks burning, couldn't help but overhear their conversation. A strange heat radiated through her at the thought of Derek in that way, his touch gentle yet passionate, his body strong and powerful.

One maiden went into detail, her voice hushed and reverent. "He takes his time," she whispered, "and makes sure she's comfortable first, putting her needs before his."

Alexa felt a wave of unfamiliar sensations wash over her, a mixture of curiosity and something akin to longing. The thought of Derek's touch, his body against hers, sent a shiver down her spine. The image of him, strong and gentle, kind and passionate, filled her mind, a stark contrast to the possessive and demanding King.

The head chambermaid, a stern woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, came storming into the room, her voice sharp and authoritative. "Girls! Get yourselves together! We have a Queen to prepare!" she barked, her words cutting through the girls' playful banter.

The maidens, their playful mood instantly subdued, snapped into action. They helped Alexa step out of the tub, their movements efficient and respectful as they dried her delicate skin with soft, linen towels. They then began the arduous task of dressing her for the wedding.

The garments they presented were a far cry from the light, flowing fabrics Alexa was accustomed to in the Summer Isles. This was a heavy, constricting gown, its layers of silk and velvet adorned with intricate embroidery and precious jewels. It felt like a cage, its weight pressing down on her shoulders, hindering her movements.

The maidens worked diligently, their fingers nimble as they fastened the numerous clasps and laces, their movements precise as they arranged the heavy fabric around her. They styled her hair into an elaborate updo, weaving in pearls and ribbons, their touch gentle yet firm. Finally, they carefully placed the Queen's jewels upon her: a heavy necklace of diamonds, a matching tiara, and ornate bracelets that weighed down her wrists.

Alexa felt increasingly uncomfortable, the weight of the gown and jewels adding to the growing unease in her heart. She longed for the freedom of her simple dresses, the feel of the warm sun on her skin. This elaborate attire felt like a symbol of her loss, a tangible representation of the life she was leaving behind.

As the maidens worked, their conversations shifted from playful gossip to hushed whispers of anticipation for the ceremony. They spoke of the King's excitement, his eagerness to finally claim his bride, his power and influence. Alexa listened in silence, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and a growing sense of resignation. She was a pawn in a game of kings, and today, her fate would be sealed.

The head chambermaid, her voice firm and reassuring, finally pronounced Alexa ready. She stepped back, her eyes filled with pride as she surveyed her handiwork. Alexa, adorned in the heavy gown and the Queen's jewels, looked every inch the regal bride. Yet, beneath the surface, a storm of emotions raged.

The maidens, their task complete, bowed deeply and filed out of the room, leaving Alexa alone. She stood before a large mirror, her reflection a stranger to her. The elaborate gown, the heavy jewels, the unfamiliar hairstyle - they all felt like a costume, a disguise she was forced to wear.

She longed for the freedom of her own identity, the simplicity of her former life. But she knew there was no turning back. She had made her choice, and now she had to face the consequences.

A knock at the door startled her. It was time.

Derek stood outside, his expression carefully neutral, his gaze intense. He offered his arm, a silent invitation. Alexa hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand in his. His touch was warm and steady, a small comfort in the overwhelming chaos of the day.

They walked in silence through the castle corridors, the sounds of the approaching ceremony growing louder with each step. The weight of the moment pressed down on Alexa, her heart pounding in her chest.

As they reached the entrance to the great hall, Derek paused, his hand lingering on hers for a moment longer. His eyes met hers, and for a fleeting instant, Alexa saw a flicker of something in his gaze - a hint of longing, a trace of regret.

Then, the doors swung open, and the full spectacle of the royal wedding was revealed.