“... I strongly object" a voice interrupted. I turned my head around in the direction of the sound to see who was unhappy with the wedding. Standing in a corner, his status resembling that of Dimitri's, was a man with short dark hair.
"Sit down, Cyrus. No one needs your opinion," the king commanded. He immediately sat down mumbling words best known to him.
"You may now mark your bride," the priest continued.
I looked at Dimitri, my heart racing. I slightly bit my lower lip, preparing for a painful sting on my neck. I closed my eyes as he leaned closer. He lifted my face and asked me, “Are you ready for this? It's not going to be painful." I shook my head in the negative, and he ended up kissing my forehead. I was relieved knowing fully well he cares a little about how I feel.
The peopl
