The past few days had been blissful, filled with moments of laughter, quiet whispers, and stolen kisses. It felt like the calm before the storm, a lull before the whirlwind of our wedding day.
I cherished every second, every shared glance with Ciara, but today was a different story. Today, chaos had a name, and that name was Ciara.
"Aeliana, it's going to be perfect. Trust me!" Ciara declared, her tone brimming with excitement as she barged into my study mid-morning, holding what looked like a sketch of... something.
I arched a brow, setting down my book. "What are you up to this time?"
Ciara's grin was wide, almost childlike. "I had this brilliant idea for another decoration. Imagine the grand hall lit by glowing purple orbs, hanging from vines of fire magic woven with gold! It will be breathtaking."
The idea sounded beautiful, but I knew better than to assume it would be straightforward. "And how do you plan to pull that off?" I asked cautiously.
She waved a hand dismissively. "Easy. I've already started gathering the materials. I just need you to come with me to oversee the arrangements."
"Ciara…" I began, but she had already grabbed my hand, dragging me from the room.
The market square was bustling, as it always was, with merchants hawking their wares and townsfolk going about their business.
But Ciara wasn't interested in the stalls selling flowers or elegant fabrics. No, she was laser-focused on the more eccentric vendors—the ones with items that looked like they'd been plucked straight from an alchemist's laboratory.
"Over here!" she called, tugging me toward a stall draped in deep purple cloth. The vendor, a gnarled old demon with a patch over one eye, gave us a toothy grin.
"What can I do for the princess?" he rasped.
Ciara beamed. "I need glowing crystals. Something that emits a purple hue—bright enough to light up a room but not blinding."
The vendor scratched his chin, pulling out a box filled with jagged, gleaming stones. "These might do the trick, but they're temperamental. Too much heat, and they'll shatter."
Ciara's eyes lit up. "Perfect!"
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Ciara, are you sure this is a good idea? What if they shatter during the ceremony?"
"They won't," she said confidently. "I'll stabilise them with magic. Trust me, Aeliana."
I sighed. "Famous last words."
The chaos truly began when we returned to the castle. Ciara had enlisted the help of two servants to hang the vines she'd conjured while experimenting with the glowing crystals.
The servants exchanged wary glances as Ciara demonstrated how she wanted the decorations to look, her gestures exaggerated and wild.
"Careful with that one!" she shouted as one of the servants almost dropped a crystal. "It's delicate!"
"Ciara, maybe we should test this in a smaller space first," I suggested, watching as her fire magic crackled dangerously close to the fragile crystals.
"Nonsense," she replied, waving me off. "Go big or go home, right?"
Before I could argue further, one of the crystals began to hum ominously. A faint crack appeared along its surface.
"Ciara—" I started.
"I've got it!" she said, diving toward the crystal. Her magic surged, wrapping around the stone to stabilise it.
For a moment, it seemed like she'd succeeded—until the crystal emitted a high-pitched whine and exploded in a burst of purple light.
The room descended into chaos. The servants yelped, diving for cover. I shielded my face as shards of crystal scattered across the room, glowing faintly where they landed.
Ciara stood in the centre of the mess, her hair slightly singed and her expression sheepish. "Okay, maybe they're a bit more temperamental than I thought."
"A bit?" I repeated, incredulous. "Ciara, you nearly blew up the entire hall!"
She laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head. "But didn't it look amazing for those few seconds?"
I stared at her, torn between exasperation and affection. "You're impossible."
The rest of the afternoon was spent cleaning up the mess and salvaging what we could of the decorations.
Ciara refused to abandon her idea, insisting that she could make it work. She enlisted the help of one of her old magic tutors, a stern-faced demon named Zephyr, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"I don't know why I let you talk me into these things," Zephyr grumbled as he inspected the remaining crystals.
"Because you love me," Ciara said with a cheeky grin.
Zephyr rolled his eyes. "Debatable."
With Zephyr's help, the crystals were stabilised, and Ciara managed to recreate her vision with far less risk of explosions. By the time we finished, the grand hall looked breathtaking, with glowing purple orbs casting a soft, ethereal light.
But I was exhausted.
As we stepped back to admire the final result, Ciara turned to me, her eyes shining with excitement. "See? I told you it would be worth it."
I gave her a tired smile. "It is beautiful, Ciara. But next time, can we aim for a little less… chaos?"
She laughed, pulling me into a hug. "Where's the fun in that?"
"Fun isn't supposed to involve near-death experiences," I muttered, though I couldn't help but smile against her shoulder.
Later, as we sat in the parlour, sipping tea to unwind, Ciara couldn't stop talking about the decorations. She was clearly proud of her accomplishment, and despite the chaos, I couldn't deny that the end result was stunning.
But as she launched into a detailed explanation of how she'd stabilised the crystals, I held up a hand to stop her. "Ciara, please stop. You're bad at explaining magic."
She blinked, then burst into laughter, her head falling against my shoulder. "Fair enough."
The parlour had settled into a rare moment of quiet. The only sound was the gentle clinking of Ciara's spoon against her teacup as she stirred lazily, her earlier burst of energy finally mellowing. I leaned back against the plush cushions of the settee, taking a sip of my own tea. It was warm and soothing, a stark contrast to the whirlwind that had been the day.
"You're staring," Ciara teased without looking up.
I blinked, realising I'd been gazing at her, lost in thought. "Am I not allowed to admire my future wife?" I countered with a playful smirk.
She glanced up then, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "You're terrible, Aeliana."
"You love it."
Her laugh was soft and melodic, a sound that never failed to warm my heart. She set her cup down and shifted closer, her knee brushing against mine. "You're not wrong," she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper.
The firelight danced across her features, highlighting the mischief in her eyes. It was hard to believe that someone so fiery and unpredictable could also be the same person who melted into quiet moments like this.
"You know," she began, her tone contemplative, "I think today was a success."
I raised an eyebrow. "If by success, you mean narrowly avoiding another explosion and traumatising a few servants, then yes, absolutely."
She nudged me lightly with her elbow, her grin widening. "Details, details. What matters is the result—and the result was stunning."
I rolled my eyes, though a smile tugged at my lips. "It was. But you're lucky I love you enough to endure your chaotic ideas."
"Lucky?" she repeated, leaning in closer. "I think you're the lucky one."
Her teasing was infectious, and I found myself laughing despite my best efforts to appear unimpressed. "Oh, really? Do enlighten me."
She smirked, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "You get to marry the most brilliant, daring, and undeniably gorgeous woman in the realm. What more could you ask for?"
I tilted my head, pretending to consider her words. "Peace and quiet, perhaps?"
She gasped in mock offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart. "You wound me, Aeliana!"
I couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing warmly through the room. Ciara joined in, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist—just us, the firelight, and the easy rhythm of our banter.
As the laughter faded, she reached for my hand, her fingers intertwining with mine. Her expression softened, the playful glint in her eyes replaced by something deeper.
"I'm serious, though," she said quietly. "I know I can be… a lot. But you never make me feel like it's too much."
Her words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond. Instead, I squeezed her hand, letting my thumb brush over her knuckles.
"I'd never want you to be anything less than who you are, Ciara," I said, my voice equally soft. "Your chaos is part of what makes you… you. And I wouldn't trade it for anything."
She smiled, leaning forward until her forehead rested against mine. "You're too good for me, you know that?"
"I do," I replied, my tone light but my heart full.
She laughed again, the sound vibrating against me. Her hand came up to cup my cheek, her thumb tracing lazy circles over my skin. The space between us disappeared as her lips met mine, soft and warm and familiar.
It was a kiss that spoke of love, of promises unspoken but deeply felt. My free hand found its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as the world faded away.
"Ugh, gross!"
The voice startled us apart, and we turned to see Lily standing in the doorway, her nose scrunched in exaggerated disgust.
"Do you two have to do that here?" she whined, crossing her arms.
Ciara, ever the troublemaker, grinned. "Why? Jealous?"
Lily made a gagging noise, her face twisting further. "As if! I just ate."
I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh, while Ciara looked entirely too pleased with herself.
"Maybe next time, knock before entering," Ciara suggested, leaning back with an air of mock seriousness.
Lily rolled her eyes. "Maybe next time, don't be so mushy in public."
With that, she turned on her heel and marched off, muttering something about "grown-ups being weird."
As the door swung shut behind her, Ciara and I exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter.
"Your sister has impeccable timing," Ciara said, shaking her head.
"She's a menace," I replied, though there was no real heat in my words.
Ciara leaned back against the cushions, pulling me into her side. "Well, at least she can't say we're boring."
I hummed in agreement, resting my head against her shoulder. As chaotic as the day had been, moments like this made it all worthwhile.