The room was quiet, heavy with the weight of the day's events. Scarlett, fresh from her bath, stood before me, her hair still damp, cascading loosely around her shoulders. There was a serene composure to her—one that made her look both ethereal and distant, a quiet figure in the dim light of the chamber. Her eyes, however, were unreadable, and I couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking. She had a way of maintaining control, even in this quiet, intimate setting, and it was both unnerving and fascinating.
What am I supposed to do now? I thought to myself, feeling a wave of uncertainty rush over me. My mind scrambled for direction, for any clue on how to navigate this moment.
Invite her to bed? That felt too forward. I'd just married her today, and even the thought of initiating something felt too daunting. Should I just talk to her? Try to make small talk? But I had no experience with this kind of situation—no experience with a woman, let alone one who was now my wife.
I glanced at her, noticing the way her damp hair clung to her neck, the faint sparkle of water droplets clinging to the strands. The silence between us felt suffocating, and every second that passed seemed to stretch longer than the last. The tension in the air was palpable, like an invisible thread pulling tighter between us, but neither of us seemed to know how to cut it.
"Uh…" I cleared my throat, trying to push past the awkwardness. "Thank you for everything today. You must be tired after all the ceremonies."
She nodded slightly, her expression as calm as ever. "Yes," she said, the word simple but carrying a weight I couldn't quite grasp.
I hesitated, unsure where to take the conversation next. "Did… did you use summoning magic or something to get back so quickly?" I asked, my curiosity piqued by the earlier display of her magical abilities.
Her response was concise. "Yes."
I felt the conversation slipping through my fingers, each word I spoke only seeming to deepen the distance between us. She was a mystery, her composure unshaken, and I was fumbling in an attempt to understand her. There had to be something more I could say. I desperately tried to find a way in, to draw something from her, but she remained an enigma.
"What kind of creature can you summon?" I pressed, trying to find a crack in her armor.
"A Great Eagle," she answered, her tone still cool, offering no further details.
Swallowing, I nodded awkwardly. Great. Now I'm really out of things to say. I thought, feeling the conversation hit a dead end. Her responses were so... concise. Almost distant. I couldn't tell if it was a part of her nature or if something deeper was going on.
I noticed her hair again, the wet strands now starting to drip, forming small beads on the floor. I shifted uncomfortably, realizing that she'd probably get the bed sheets wet if she lay down like that.
"Oh, um…" I turned toward the door. "Is anyone outside?"
"Yes, my lord," a voice replied promptly, and a maid stepped into the room. It was as though someone was always standing just outside, ready to assist at a moment's notice. I gestured to her.
"Lady Scarlett's hair is still wet," I explained, the awkwardness still lingering in my voice. "Could you bring a towel, please?"
The maid nodded, ready to act, but before she could leave, Scarlett raised her hand slightly. Her fingers moved with the elegance of someone accustomed to control, and a soft, golden light shimmered around her. I watched in awe as the moisture from her hair lifted, suspended in the air for a brief moment before falling back to the ground, leaving her hair completely dry.
"That's… incredible," I murmured, taken aback by how effortlessly she performed the spell. Her hair now looked even more lustrous, each strand light and airy.
"Yes," Scarlett said quietly, almost as if to herself, her voice carrying a note of satisfaction. "It's dry now."
I blinked, slightly stunned by the magic. "Well, the floor got wet instead…"
As if to acknowledge my concern, Scarlett glanced down at the carpet. For the first time, her composure wavered, just slightly. Her eyes flickered with mild surprise at the dampness that had formed at her feet.
"Oh." She paused, her gaze flicking back to the maid. "Can that be fixed?"
The maid, ever calm and composed, smiled warmly. "Yes, my lady. I'll take care of it."
As the maid knelt to clean the carpet, I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. The scene felt almost surreal—the strange mix of formality and the growing sense of intimacy between us. When the maid finished, she gave a polite bow, ready to leave.
I felt a strange urge to speak up, to ask something that had been lingering in my mind. "Um… you're stationed here at all times, right?"
The maid paused, turning back with a polite nod. "Yes, my lord. We're here whenever you might need us. Though we are trained to be as invisible as possible." She smiled, the hint of amusement in her eyes. "If we overhear conversations or… other sounds," she said, her voice dropping playfully, "we're as silent as stones by the roadside."
The subtle implication of her words hit me, and I felt a blush creep over my face. The King's maids were clearly trained to be discreet, but this was more than I was prepared for. I quickly looked away, my mind racing with the idea of what other sounds she might be referring to. I didn't want to imagine what my father's private life must have been like.
"Right… thank you," I said awkwardly, before the maid left, closing the door behind her.
Scarlett remained standing by the bed, her presence calm but somehow distant. I knew I needed to say something, but what? The silence stretched on, unbroken.
Finally, I mustered the courage to speak. "Scarlett," I said, my voice hesitating. She turned to face me, her gaze steady and unfathomable. "Are you upset about the wedding?"
She tilted her head, as though considering the question carefully. "Upset?" she repeated the word, testing its meaning. She didn't seem angry, but there was something guarded in her posture.
"I just…" I fumbled, trying to find the right words. "I know the kiss was part of the oath ceremony, but I didn't want it to be… uncomfortable. I just wanted to follow the tradition. But if it felt too sudden, I apologize."
She studied me for a long moment, her expression unchanging, before she spoke. "The kiss was… necessary, wasn't it?"
I nodded. "Yes. It was part of the oath. But it's not just about duty. I wanted it to mean something." My words felt a bit forced, but I pressed on. "Marriage… it's about becoming family. It's about being there for each other, supporting each other, not just fulfilling duties or producing heirs."
She stared at me for a moment, her gaze softening ever so slightly. "Family," she murmured, her voice quiet. "I was taught that family is just… about ensuring heirs."
"Well, yes, but it's more than that," I said gently. "It's about caring for each other. Being there for each other, even when things get hard."
She looked at me, the hint of a softening in her eyes, though a flicker of hesitation still lingered. "I've never thought of it that way," she admitted quietly.
Relief washed over me as I smiled, grateful that she wasn't shutting me out. "We can take things slow. No need to rush anything. We'll figure it out as we go."
She nodded, a faint warmth spreading across her face. "Yes… I think I'd like that."
The weight that had been in my chest eased, and I realized just how much I'd been hoping for her understanding. As she slipped onto the bed beside me, I couldn't help but feel a small sense of hope stir in me—hope that perhaps, despite everything, we could build something real from this.
For tonight, that was enough. And as we lay there, side by side, the quiet in the room no longer felt uncomfortable. It was peaceful, promising. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, this fragile understanding between us was all that mattered.
And in that quiet stillness, I allowed myself to hope.
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