The soft golden glow of the enchanted candles bathed the bridal chamber as silence enveloped the newlyweds. The weight of their union hung in the air, but neither Basil nor Celeste seemed ready to confront it head-on.
Celeste stood by the window, the soft fabric of her bridal gown shimmering in the light. Her hands trembled slightly as she began to undo the clasps at the back, revealing her bare skin. The moment her gown slipped down her shoulders, the intricate web of scars on her back was exposed—a silent testament to years of pain and struggle.
Basil, seated on the edge of the bed, froze. His sharp gaze traced each scar, his expression unreadable.
"You didn't expect me like this, did you?" Celeste said, her voice steady but carrying a trace of vulnerability.
Basil stood, walking toward her until he was mere inches away. "You're wrong," he said softly, his voice firm yet gentle.
She turned to face him, her piercing eyes meeting his. "Am I?"
Basil reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over one of the scars. "I expected you to be strong, unyielding, and extraordinary. And these scars," he said, his hand still lingering, "only confirm that."
Her eyes widened slightly, and for the first time that evening, her composed demeanor faltered. "You… don't pity me?"
He chuckled softly. "Pity you? No, Celeste. I admire you."
Her lips parted, but no words came. Silence stretched between them until Basil finally added, "I know who you are, Celeste—or should I say, the Ilzaria Witch."
Celeste stiffened, her eyes narrowing. "So, you know," she said, her voice tinged with caution.
"I do," he admitted. "I've heard the stories of the mysterious witch who hunts beasts in the forest of Ilzaria. But I didn't expect her to be my wife."
She smiled faintly, her guard lowering just a bit. "I never thought the infamous eldest son of the Eryndor family would figure me out so quickly."
Basil smirked. "You're not the only one with secrets, Celeste."
The tension between them dissolved into something warmer, more intimate. Celeste stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on Basil's chest. "I'm not delicate or fragile like they think," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I know," he replied, cupping her face with one hand. "And I wouldn't want you any other way."
A Night to Remember
Their conversation melted into a passionate embrace, their lips meeting in a fiery kiss. The barriers between them crumbled completely as they allowed themselves to be vulnerable, to let go of their pasts, and to truly connect.
Celeste let Basil guide her to the bed, her scars no longer hidden. For the first time in her life, she didn't feel the need to hide. Basil, too, felt a sense of liberation as he held her, his admiration for her strength only deepening.
The night was filled with whispered confessions, soft laughter, and the kind of intimacy that laid the foundation for something neither of them had anticipated—a bond forged in truth and mutual respect.
The Morning After
As the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, Celeste stirred. She turned to find Basil already awake, his gaze fixed on her.
"You're staring," she said, her voice teasing.
"Can you blame me?" he replied, smirking.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "Last night… it was unexpected."
"It was," Basil agreed. "But I think it was exactly what we both needed."
Celeste nodded, her expression softening. "Maybe."
For the first time, the space between them didn't feel so daunting. They weren't just two strangers forced into a union anymore—they were partners, bound by shared strength and a mutual understanding that neither had anticipated.