Heart Over Sword-Chapter 302: Wedding of the Century (3)

Evanna stood behind the closed doors to the atrium. They planned the wedding in such a short time, but servants in the palace worked so efficiently that one month and a few details from Evanna were all they needed to organise the grand event. Now, she waited, holding wildflowers that had two luminous light blue butterflies fluttering their wings in pattern. They weren’t real; it was all a touch of elven magic, but it was still magnificent all the same. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel-com

On the other side of the doors, a harp began to play. Each pluck of the strings produced a cascade of sweet, crystalline sounds, weaving a gentle melody that seemed to float and twirl. The music, soft and ethereal, carried a whimsical quality as if it were a lullaby whispered by the breeze. This was Evanna’s cue to enter the room.

Her stomach fluttered with a thousand butterflies, ones that weren’t quite so gentle and pretty as the ones flying around her flowers. The doors opened, and the bright sunlight shone through the windows, spreading out in a rainbow of colours and dancing across Evanna’s white dress. Those in the aisles stood, some gushing over her dress, gasping at Arawn’s wife-to-be, but Evanna wasn’t focused on their guests. No, Evanna’s eyes were locked on the man at the other end of the atrium.

It was like she was seeing him for the first time again. The way her heart thumped wildly for him. Only for him. He lured her in with those looks, then ensnared her with his mind and personality, and now she was marrying the man she’d fallen for. Once her eyes were locked with his, all the nerves that had tightened her body melted away.

Why would she feel nervous about marrying the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with?

Arawn’s smile was gentle at first, soft even, making those in the atrium still and watch in awe at the man who could be cruel. That man looked... happy. His eyes sparkled with warmth as he stared at the princess. Evanna was radiant in her white, figure-fitting gown. It was every bit more an elven wedding dress than one made by humans.

Above her cleavage, the dress was held together by a small golden hoop, with the dress’s material attached to it and looping around her back, which fell loosely and wrapped around her arms. Evanna’s hair was left wild and untamed, a crystal tiara resting above her brow. If this was a wedding in Dunhurst, she would need to have her hair in a bun or something similar, yet she followed through with what she wanted. It was exactly how Arawn liked it, wild and untamed like her. If he could, he’d hold this as a private ceremony.

Seeing Evanna this way, so beautiful and enticing with the way the dress hugged her figure, Arawn wanted to keep her all to himself, tucked away. He didn’t want the eyes of so many, many that he disliked watching something so personal. They were binding themselves to each other, and a crowd gathered to see.

As much as he wanted to, they had to have a public ceremony. Besides that, the only other issue was King Osian’s absence. Since the Queen was beheaded and the court was in disarray, he had to remain in Dunhurst. There were too many threats at the moment; even if it appeared calm, it was not. Evanna understood, and, like him, she’d prefer it if they only had the minimum of witnesses in attendance.

The princess’ slow strides finally came to an end as she met Arawn, their gazes unmoving from each other. The priestess, adorned in a golden brown dress and a face covering, greeted the guests and started the ceremony. Evanna and Arawn faced each other, holding hands, the kaleidoscope of colours dancing on their features, the sun behind the priestess.

Lowering to their knees, Evanna and Arawn remained facing each other, and the priestess began wrapping around their hands a thorny twine with red berries on it. It pricked the skin but acted as the bond they would accept and bind themselves to each other. Once their hands were wrapped, the twine tightened on their skin, catching the skin and causing minor cuts. Neither felt the pain; instead, they cited the ancient elven words of matrimony, their sentences synchronised, telling the gods of their love and duty to one another and asking for their blessing for their union.

As they continued to speak, their voices smooth and clear, a light green glow formed between them. One side on each of them began to glow as hot and cold flushed through Evanna. A slight stinging pain grew in intensity until a different pain formed as her heart warmed and expanded at seeing her husband. The thorns sank into their skin, but it wasn’t painful; it only felt like a small prick.

Evanna’s gaze lowered, and they almost widened at the golden ink of thorns wrapping from her wrist and hand and stopping at her index finger, where the ink continued onto Arawn’s hand. It was a very light colour and was barely visible, especially to those unaware of looking for such a marking, but those who witnessed the ceremony or knew of the binding ritual knew what to look for. The Flori and Lyvarians had a slightly different ceremony, but it did the same thing.

Arawn’s fingers crept into the side of Evanna’s hair, and he tugged her gently forward, sealing their matrimony with a kiss. The kiss was soft and sweet at first until he deepened it, and she sighed, her toes curling in her shoes, and he slipped his tongue inside, dominating her for a moment in front of everyone. But Arawn and Evanna were stuck in their bubble, one most there now envied.

Evanna was the only one to ’tame’ Arawn, and she now had many enemies who wanted to take her spot. Feeling the weight of their stares, Evanna pulled back, her cheeks rosy from her arousal more than embarrassment, but she still felt the jealousy radiating from some of the nobles, so she glared in their direction. The moment their eyes connected, the woman would shrink in her chair or grow pale. Either way, they got the message.

Arawn belonged to her, just as she belonged to him.

"Please stand and greet your guests, Arawn and Evanna Elion."

A warmth swirled around them as they rose for the first time and faced the guests as husband and wife. Evanna could only now register the clapping sound as their guests rose and cheered for the newlywed couple. Axel whistled, and Ronan whooped, earning themselves a clip around the back of their heads. Evanna blinked back the prickling around her eyes as she looked back to her husband, who hadn’t paid any attention to their guests. His gaze was only on her.

It was always only on Evanna. Besides his father, the others meant almost nothing to him. This was meant to be their special moment, so why should he look upon their faces? They should be grateful to witness their union. Now, where can he whisk his wife away to?

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