Arrange Marriage to the Prince

Chapter Three: The Wedding Night

The day had arrived.

The air was thick with the scent of roses and anticipation, but for Elira, it felt suffocating. She stood in front of the mirror, her reflection barely recognizable under the heavy veil that draped her face. The delicate lace shimmered under the flickering candlelight, but beneath its layers, Elira’s heart beat wildly, each pulse reminding her of the gravity of what was about to unfold.

Her hands trembled as she reached up to adjust her veil. The weight of it, the weight of the moment, pressed down on her chest like a thousand-pound stone. She had known this day would come. A marriage forged not by love, but by necessity. A prince who would never want her. A future she never asked for. And yet, it was here, right before her, in the silence of her chamber, heavy with the weight of unspoken promises.

She could hear the distant sounds of the grand hall—laughter, music, the clinking of glasses—celebration, as the nobility gathered to witness the ceremony. Yet, all she could feel was the pounding in her chest. Her family’s future rested on this union. It was a simple transaction: her heart, her freedom, her desires—given up in exchange for the safety of her kin.

The door opened with a soft creak, and her breath caught in her throat.

"You look... breathtaking." Kael’s voice broke the silence, his tone calm yet laced with an undercurrent of something she couldn’t quite place.

Elira turned slowly, her breath hitching as she finally laid eyes on him. Kael stood in the doorway, his tall frame bathed in the soft light, the royal insignia on his cloak glistening like a symbol of power and restraint. His expression was unreadable, as always, but there was something in the air tonight—something dangerous. Something that made her insides twist.

The prince’s gaze swept over her, and for a moment, she felt exposed. He wasn’t looking at her as a person but as an object—a prize to be claimed, a tool to fulfill a role. It was the cold reality of her position. The prince’s words held no affection, no warmth. They were merely the formalities of their duty.

And yet, when his dark eyes met hers, she swore she saw a flicker of something deeper—something hidden beneath his ice-cold demeanor.

Kael took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. His eyes seemed to pierce through her veil, stripping her of everything until she was laid bare before him.

“You’ll be the perfect wife," he said, his voice soft, but the weight of his words made Elira’s stomach tighten.

Elira couldn’t suppress the bitterness that surged within her. She wasn’t here to be perfect. She wasn’t here to serve him. She was here for her family—nothing more, nothing less.

As if sensing her thoughts, Kael’s lips curved into a fleeting smile, though it held no joy. It was more of a recognition, a reminder that he saw through her façade, even if she had no intention of letting him see everything.

Without another word, he reached for her arm, guiding her toward the door. She was no longer Elira Vale—daughter of merchants, a simple girl with dreams. She was Elira Draven now—the prince’s wife, bound to this life. And she could feel the weight of that title pressing on her shoulders as they walked side by side through the grand halls of the palace.

The distant hum of the ceremony echoed in the corridors, but the space between them was thick with tension. Every step they took felt like a march to the gallows, and though the hall was filled with music and laughter, all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.

The wedding itself passed in a blur—so many faces, so many words, but none of them truly mattered. Vows were said, promises made, and yet, it all felt empty. The prince’s eyes never lingered on her, his words hollow as he recited his part. To him, this was just a transaction. He would fulfill his duties. She would fulfill hers.

When they were finally pronounced husband and wife, Elira barely heard the words. They were just sounds floating in the air, meaningless. It was the kiss that followed—the sealing of the union—that made her feel the full weight of her new reality. His lips touched hers, cold and indifferent. He did not look at her like a lover. He did not look at her with even the faintest semblance of tenderness.

And yet, as the crowd applauded, she couldn’t ignore the fire that smoldered beneath the surface of the kiss. There was power there—dark, dangerous power.

Later, in the privacy of their chambers, Kael closed the door behind them with a quiet click, sealing them in the quiet isolation of their new life. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting long shadows across the grand bed that awaited them.

Kael stood near the window, his back to her, staring out at the distant stars. There was a strange silence between them, filled only by the distant sounds of the ongoing celebration.

"Are you afraid?" Kael’s voice was low, almost too soft to hear, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down her spine.

Elira hesitated. "Should I be?"

He turned to face her, and for a moment, his eyes softened, just for a fraction of a second. But it was gone as quickly as it came. His voice was steady, but the weight of his words was unmistakable.

“I trust you know what this night is for,” he said, his tone colder now.

Elira squared her shoulders. “Yes, Your Highness. I understand.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze drifting over her, almost contemplative. “Then you know that this—" He stepped closer, his dark presence enveloping her. “This is not about love. It’s about duty. And you will fulfill yours, just as I will fulfill mine.”

She swallowed, her pulse quickening. “And what of desire, Kael? Will that not play a part?”

His eyes darkened at her words, his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Desire is a weakness," he murmured, his voice like gravel. "And I am not weak."

Before she could respond, he stepped forward, his hand reaching for her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. “*Te ne sono grato per esserti fatta vedere così…*” He whispered the words again—those foreign words. They sounded like a secret, like something he only shared with her, though she didn’t understand them.

Elira’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure what to make of them—whether it was genuine or just part of his façade. But the way he spoke them… it didn’t sound like indifference. It sounded like something more.

“What does that mean?” Elira asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kael’s smile deepened, though it remained cold, unreadable. “You’ll understand in time.”

The promise hung in the air like a challenge, a dare. And Elira couldn’t deny the pull she felt toward him—the magnetic, dangerous attraction that seemed to grow stronger the more he remained a mystery.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain steady. “If you believe I will ever bend to you, Kael, you are wrong.”

He stepped closer, his breath warm against her skin. “We’ll see, Elira. We’ll see.”