On my wedding day, the cathedral buzzes with anticipation, and the murmur of hushed voices blends with the soft melody of a distant violin.
I stand by the large oak doors, my heart pumping furiously. Flicking a piece of lint off my long white dress, my shoulders tense when my father takes my arm. The silk of my wedding dress ghosts across my legs as I walk, and the pain in my feet from the high heels is a constant reminder of the weight of my duty.
The whole kingdom awaits my impending success or my imminent doom. My only hope is that Prince Calder of Tenebris is the same wicked brute as the one I knew ten years ago. It'll be easier to keep hating him.
The golden bells above the ceiling chime twice, the sound echoing through the hall and reaching my ears. I adjust the bouquet in my left hand as the sweet aroma of roses and heady incense hits my nostrils.
My father King Felipe speaks to me.
"It's time. Head high. Smile, mi hija," he tips my chin to meet his eyes.
Eyes that I have looked into throughout my life, eyes that have often spoken love and anger. Today his eyes shine with pride, like twin stars shimmering with happiness.
He can tell me to smile all he wants, but he doesn't understand and he never will. My father is the one who organized my betrothal for a peace pact. It was my mother who trained me for a decade. Now I am twenty-four, and she is sending me for my first and only mission.
My father motions to the guards by the doors and they nod as he leads me to the entrance.
The doors swing open and the crowd gasps collectively. They stand there in black suits and cocktail dresses, flowers in the women's hair, bowties on the men. Their oohing and ahhing is making me nauseous. But the one thing that keeps me upright is the reminder of our skin, my blood, and birthright.
My people's glimmering skin is even more pronounced in the golden light raining through the stained glass windows, and all the different colored tails swish back and forth.
There before the altar is my husband-to-be.
Calder's black locks of hair and grey-gold eyes stand apart from everyone else. His piercing gaze assesses me, and I cannot tell what he thinks. His eyes are hooded as usual and devoid of emotion. His broad shoulders and tall stature make him stick out like a giant. That and he doesn't have a tail like my people do.
My people love to dance, to turn around in circles for fun. Prince Calder is all rough edges and cut corners. I would know, because we have assessed one another since we were young. We have studied each other's weaknesses and strengths, how to combat both, how to pacify, and most of all, we have been taught how to hate one another. With every step I take, I feel myself recoiling, wanting to turn away from the cathedral.
My mother stands in the front row, her keen and alert stare holding me in place. She mouths the words that I've memorized. She's wearing a custom floor-length silver gown, making her look even more regal with the bejeweled edges of her neckline and the bottom drape. Everyone else will see their beautiful queen, but I see my cunning and calculating mother.
Stand tall, hide your heart.
My back straightens as I meet her stare with a nod and my light smile widens. We begin walking down the aisle, as people wave and beam at me. I hear whispers of how beautiful I look.
I chose a modest dress that hides my curves and cleavage for the most part. So he just sees a young lady with a translucent veil and white dress walking down the aisle to marry him.
Most people gawk at my father, as they don't get this chance to see my parents like this ever. We stop by the front row where my father greets King Adrien and Queen Nova, Calder's parents. They exchange greeting kisses and my father hands me to Calder.
Calder's hand slips into mine. The first thing I notice is his warmth. He is warm and I am cold. Now that we are standing right across from each other I get a closer look and I am devastated.
Damn it all, he's, simply put, more gorgeous than I remembered.
Taller than me, with an athletic build and tight jawline built by the gods. There's a contemplative look in his eyes now as we stare at each other, and his pretty plump lips press into a thin line. I barely register what the priest behind us says but he does a benediction and some other dialogue that goes over my head.
I stiffen when Calder places a hand against my body and he leans in.
"Did you like my present?" He asks.
I refrain from answering, but something happens in my body at hearing the low and smooth timber of his voice. His voice certainly did not sound like this the last time we met. He must be referring to the nightgown he gifted me for our wedding night, though it's more like strips of fabric barely covering the right places.
Sweet Myrra, why does he smell like honey?
I exhale, breathing in the sweet scent emanating from his body. His lips turn down into a small frown when he realizes I'm not about to answer his question.
"Do you, Prince Calder of Tenebris, accept Princess Catarina of Tenerife as your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest asks, and Calder leans back.
"I do," he says.
It is my turn to say the vow and as if it's an automatic response I say, "I do."
"You may now kiss the bride." The priest announces.
Calder lifts the veil, his fingers touching my cheeks gently. He almost looks surprised when he sees my face for the first time after years, his eyebrows raise, and his lips part slightly. I feel some sort of achievement unlocked with this new expression.
I try to shake that thought off and convince myself it doesn't matter. In the end, none of this will matter.
I try convincing myself as he leans in, his eyes close, and his long lashes give mine a greeting. His hands rest on my waist as if they are his home before his lips meet mine in a slow dance suspended over time.
My mind melts as our lips fuse and my chest rises to meet his. I almost forget where I am.
The priest makes a throaty cough. Calder releases me, and we pull apart slowly. My eyelashes flutter against his cheek, and he rubs a finger against the corner of my mouth.
I watch, stupefied, when he says, "lipstick smudged."
There's a simmering feeling in me that warms my mind, the urge to shove his hand away and push his chest to gain more distance between us. In reality, I do nothing because this is my duty, to marry the Prince of Tenebris and to act as if I like him and want to be married to him.
The golden bells ring once more, and Calder leads me out of the cathedral, with everyone cheering for us. But even as the celebrations begin, my mind races with the task not yet done.
I am supposed to kill my husband tonight.