Emerald stared at the man behind her, through the mirror. She smiled in face of the astonishment in his eyes.
"Am I pretty?" she teased, making him laugh.
"Holy God! I have never seen any woman more beautiful than you."
"Are you saying that because we are alike?"
"Of course."
Her catlike laughter hid a certain melancholy, which the prince discarded. However, soon after, the bride turned to him and her eyes didn't hide how scared she was.
"He seems to hate me."
Cael didn't answer.
"Yesterday, when we met, he looked at me with so much…" she lost her words. "What can he have against me?"
"Nothing," he answered. "Cedric hates himself." He went to her, squeezing her shoulders. It was now a usual gesture. "He loved Lyn, who abandoned him. He is being pushed into this marriage; it's natural for him to show his dissatisfaction."
Emerald sighed.
"Do you think he…?"
"No," he answered, foreseeing the question. "He will not want to consummate the marriage. To Cedric, his feelings for Lyn are sacred. He always said he would love her forever. Anyway, don't worry."
The young girl nodded. She was about to say something else when Kian entered the room. His eyes seemed scared and hurt, but he made no comments, just informing that Cedric's coronation had already been done and that everybody was waiting for her to start the ritual where they would become man and wife.
Cael kissed her forehead and left the room. Iran would be there soon to take her to the cathedral and he wanted to avoid any confront with his father that afternoon.
"You look very pretty," Kian mumbled, not knowing which words to use, nor what to say to break the silence between them.
Emerald smiled, getting closer to him.
"I don't care. Neither does the King of Bran," she laughed. "Kian, why don't you look me in the eyes?"
The question frightened him, but he was saved by Iran's arrival. He bowed at her and then, he left. The older man didn't even glance at him while he was leaving. His eyes were focused, proudly, in the red haired woman.
"A mashian," he mumbled, getting closer to her. "A legitimate mashian will be the future Queen of Bran."
She lowered her eyes. There was nothing inside her. Neither regret, nor guilty, nor apprehension. Only her goal. The latent hatred that burned as a fire in her soul, which moved her every step. Therefore, marrying the King of Bran was a path she wouldn't refuse to take to reach her goal.
Iran offered her his arm and she took it. While they were walking, she tried to keep her eyes in the paintings on the walls — portraits of people she had never seen, accustomed to her dark-skinned country fellows — but her clear apathy suddenly turned into terror.
She was going to marry someone she didn't know. More than that, a man who was suffering with his love for another woman. A man who, according to the people around her, had once been one the most beautiful ones and who now was deformed, an eternal mark that he would take with him to the grave.
The cathedral, beside the castle, was decorated with flowers.
Everything was so beautiful.
She was beautiful as well, she would have noticed if she paid any attention to herself.
Cedric, nonetheless, noticed it. The woman started walking down the aisle with her shoulders straight while her eyes seemed firm and confident. She was gorgeous. Anyone would see that. Her rebel hair, curly and bloody red, was tied in a beautiful bun, adorned with small wildflowers. Her white dress fit her body perfectly and the dress border was been dragged over the floor as she walked, her eyes fixed on his face.
He kept his look steady. Behind his mask, he was scared, but now, as the King of Bran, he would not lose his strength in face of a woman he didn't love.
His heart was hurt. Nothing about that day could be called perfect. That mashian, owner of an exotic beauty, wasn't his sweet Lyn. She was an unknown, with whom he hadn't even exchanged a word. Nevertheless, she would become his wife, the mother of his children…
He offered her his hand, when his uncle Iran gave her away to him. Their eyes met. He tried to show his anger through his black eyes, but she didn't seem intimidated. Cedric wanted to yell to the world that it wasn't that redhead he wanted as a wife, but he knew Rhianna was not to blame for that.
Rhianna… Wasn't it strange for someone to have a name who didn't really suit her? The priests and scribes said that, when Bran created the sun, by feeling its soft and comfortable heat, he called him Rhianna, in a juvenile exclamation.
The Rhianna in front of him, however, had nothing of the joyful young women who were usually around the Castle on the dancing nights.
There was something in that woman, a mix of mystery and darkness. There was no joy neither the space for anything that wasn't gloomy. Cedric felt that and shivered.
"Please, your hands," the priest asked them.
All the wedding speech had gone by and he had paid no attention to it? He raised his hand and gave it to the priest. Rhianna did the same; however, when she saw the blade getting closer to her palm, she seemed to retract it slightly.
What happened? Has that woman never seen a wedding ceremony before? Didn't she know bride and groom had their hands cut before being united, in order to mix their blood and becoming one flesh and one blood?
Finally, the blade did the cuts and he held her hand. He realized she was biting her lower lip, as if she wasn't used to pain. However, she remained steady. Once more, their eyes met and then he lost himself, for a few moments, in that green sea, full of secrets.
"Bran concedes his blessing to the union of your bloods," the priest covered their joined hands in some kind of oil. "King and Queen of Bran, Cedric and Rhianna, may your union be fruitful, to perpetuate life in the entire Kingdom."
Cedric heard her sighing in relief when she took away her hand. Then, an assistant of the priest covered their hands with bandages and the ceremony was over.
***
Emerald entered the bedroom cursing every god she had ever heard of. Well, there were three, right? So damned be Bran, Masha and Cashel! She hated them tremendously!
The hand with which she held the sword! How could no one tell her she would have to be subjected to that?
She wanted so much to curse Cael, but when the redheaded entered her room, she just shoot him an irate look.
"Congratulations on your wedding!"
His jokingly tone sent her to the edge.
"Congratulations to you," she retorted. "You've made the King of Bran join his blood to an unclean. What will they do when they find out?"
"Cedric will probably try to kill himself," he considered. "My father most definitely will," he declared. "Anyway, everything is going as planned."
"And for how long shall I have to keep this lie?"
"Enough for Cedric to get attached to these beautiful green eyes of yours," he got closer to her, caressing her pale face. "I'm not aiming for love; I know he won't fall in love with you. Nevertheless, I believe he will like your personality. Who wouldn't?"
Right then, the door opened and the King of Bran entered. Emerald stared at him, suddenly nervous. However, got was terrified when she noticed the fear in Cael's eyes.
"Cedric," he said, trying to smile. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean what am I doing here?" the King shrugged. "She is my wife, I came to consummate our marriage."
The redheads exchanged a look. That, definitely, wasn't in their plans. Nonetheless, how to object to it? Cael moved away from Emerald, begging her forgiveness with his eyes. Then, he left, leaving the couple behind, completely anguished.
When he closed the door, he came across Kian. The dark haired man looked at him for a few moments and then, he moved in the same moment Cael was turning to the door, once again.
"No, you can't," he denied. "She accepted to subject herself, if Cedric wanted to…"
"In fact, she only said that because she believed it wouldn't be necessary."
"Anyway, our 'Rhianna' knows what she is doing," affirmed Kian. "You've got so far, you can't destroy your planning now."
Cael moved his hands away and went to the other side of the corridor. Four, five steps, then he halted. He turned back and went once again to that door.
Kian placed himself on his path.
"Why are you so interested in what's happening in that bedroom?" he asked him. "Have you fell love with her?"
"Are you mad?"
Cael would laugh if the despair in his heart weren't so huge. No, it wasn't passion. So what was it? Why watching Emerald, who was clearly naïve and not used to the arts of love, locked in that bedroom with a Cedric who was revolted with his destiny seemed to eat his insides?
"Are you in love with her?" he repeated, getting closer.
Suddenly, Cael felt Kian's steady hand holding his neck and pulling him closer. His eyes bulged when he felt the manly mouth touching his like a soft blow. His surprise wasn't only as big as his anger.
Pushing him with all his might, he felt his blood boiling while a massive fury took over him.
"Are you just like my father?" he asked, unable to understand how he couldn't notice something like that in all those years. "Dirty," he pushed him again. "Disgusting," he slapped his face, in anger.
"Cael…" Kian didn't even try to defend himself.
"Don't you ever get close to me," he ordered. "I swear to God that, if you try, I will kill you."
Shortly forgotten about the redhead and the King inside the bedroom, he ran away, cleaning his mouth, while tears were falling non-stop.
He had lost his only friend…
He had no idea that Kian was in a much worse situation. The dark-haired man had lost the only person he had ever loved in his life.