ARIELLE:
By the time I finally manage to pry my eyes open this evening, the trumpets have already sounded, their fanfare echoing through the palace halls. It is all incredibly alarming. A flurry of activity surrounds me, and the maids are strung out like an army of porcelain dolls. Azriel is among them, her expression a mixture of excitement and something akin to pity. They are all dressed in pristine white, which only serves to add to my growing confusion.
"What is this?" I demand, my voice still thick with sleep. "Are we about to storm some enemy stronghold? Because I distinctly remember declining that particular invitation."
"It's time for your ritual of marriage, sister," Azriel says, her tone softening slightly. "You need to get up. Unless you'd prefer to be dragged to the altar kicking and screaming, which, I admit, would be rather entertaining."
"Ritual of…marriage?" I repeat, my mind struggling to process the information. "Is that what all this fuss is about? All the talk about husbands and realms? I had hoped it was just a terribly elaborate practical joke."
"What is with the white?" I ask, gesturing to their identical gowns. "Are we all auditioning to be swans in some bizarre play?"
"Tradition," Azriel says with a shrug. "Apparently, white symbolizes purity, new beginnings, and the utter destruction of one's personal freedom."
I reluctantly swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet hitting the cool floor. I am led to my bathroom, where the maids have prepared a bath filled with milk. Milk! Is this some sort of bovine-themed cleansing ritual?
"What is this for?" I ask, gesturing at the milky bath with a skeptical expression.
"A tradition done when someone in Khavena is leaving," one of the maids explains, her voice soft.
"So, you're basically bathing me in farewell tears? How utterly depressing," I deadpan. It is something about this whole situation that makes me feel like my whole world, which I didn't know meant this much to me, crashing down.
I sink into the milk bath, the lukewarm liquid doing little to soothe my frazzled nerves. I have so many questions, none of which I suspect anyone will answer with any degree of clarity. It is like the sea. All over me, threatening to drown me.
"Right," I say, breaking the awkward silence. "So, this is it, then? My last official act as a free Amazon woman? Is there anything else I should do? Sacrifice a goat to the gods of singledom? Write a scathing letter to the council outlining all the ways they've failed me?"
Azriel laughs, the sound echoing through the chamber. "Just relax, Arielle. Enjoy your bath. Think of it as a spa treatment before you embark on your new life of…domestic bliss."
I snort. "Domestic bliss? With a man who looks like he could single-handedly conquer the world? I'm far more likely to end up a prisoner in his castle, forced to embroider tapestries and listen to him drone on about the intricacies of warfare."
The maids begin to gently cleanse my skin with soft sponges, their movements soothing yet strangely impersonal. It is like they want to be here, but they rather not at all. I attempt to relax, but my mind races. What awaits me in this new realm? What sort of person am I expected to become? Is my fate to be someone else?
An hour later, I am deemed sufficiently clean and prepared for the next stage of this bizarre pageant. I am ushered out of the bath and dried with thick, fluffy towels. Then the dressing begins.
Layers upon layers of silk and lace are draped over my body. The feel so foreign. A chemise of the finest linen, a kirtle of embroidered velvet, and finally, a surcote of shimmering silver brocade. It feels as though they are wrapping the life out of me, layer by layer, second by second.
"Gods, this is heavy," I groan, staggering slightly under the weight of the fabric. "Am I supposed to walk in this thing? I feel like a knight in full armor."
"Patience, sister," Azriel says, her eyes sparkling. "You look stunning. Like a queen."
I glance at myself in the polished silver mirror, and I must admit, the effect is rather…impressive. The silver gown shimmers in the candlelight, highlighting the curve of my waist and the swell of my breasts. I am all but a queen ready to be taken. A circlet of delicate silver filigree is placed upon my head, framing my face and adding a touch of regal splendor.
"Well," I say, trying to inject a bit of levity into the situation, "if I'm going to be a prisoner, at least I'll be a well-dressed one."
But beneath the layers of silk and silver, a knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach. This is it. There's no turning back now. I take a deep breath, steel my nerves, and prepare to face my destiny. It is out there, as big and intimidating as I feel it.
Azriel steps forward, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. Her eyes are serious, but laced with a fondness that softens the edges of my fear.
"Be brave, Arielle," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rustle of silk. "You are a daughter of Khavena. You carry the strength of generations within you. Show them all what it means to be a woman from this island. Show *him*."
I meet her gaze, searching for any hint of doubt or regret. All I find is unwavering support. I take another deep breath, steel my resolve, and nod. "I will," I say, my voice stronger than I expected. "For Khavena."
With a final adjustment to my circlet, Azriel steps back, and the doors to my chambers are thrown open. I step out, and the sight that greets me takes my breath away.
The entire kingdom seems to be awaiting me. From what I can see, anyways. Every Amazon warrior, dressed in her finest attire, lines the corridors of the palace. Their faces, usually hardened by years of training and battle, are softened with a mixture of respect and affection. I look at them as if it were the last time.
A collective gasp ripples through the crowd as they catch sight of me. Then, as if on cue, a low, resonant chant begins to rise, growing steadily in volume until it fills the entire palace. It's a song I recognize, an ancient ballad passed down through generations of Khavena, a song sung only for the departing of royalty. I am now royalty.
Before I can even fully comprehend what's happening, strong arms lift me from the ground. I am being carried, hoisted onto the shoulders of two Amazon warriors, their faces stoic as they bear my weight. The crowd parts before us, creating a pathway through the sea of faces.
The chant swells, each word a blessing, a prayer, a farewell. The rhythm of the song pulses through my body, a primal beat that resonates with my very soul. We move slowly, deliberately, towards the Grand Hall, the heart of the palace, where I am to meet my… husband.
The journey is surreal. I look out over the sea of faces, each one etched with a mixture of pride and sorrow. These are my sisters, my protectors, my family. And I am leaving them behind, venturing into the unknown, for reasons I still don't fully understand.
As we approach the Grand Hall, the doors swing open, revealing the scene within. The hall is ablaze with light, filled with dignitaries, nobles, and warriors from both Khavena and Caith's realm. All eyes turn to me as I am carried into the room, the song of Khavena echoing in my wake.
This is it. The moment of truth. I steel myself for what awaits me, determined to face my destiny with the same strength and courage that has defined the women of Khavena for generations. My world is about to change, whether I am ready for it or not.
I am gently lowered to the ground, my feet finally touching solid earth. My mother, the Queen of Khavena, stands before me, her eyes filled with a complex mix of pride and… something else. Regret? Sorrow? I can't quite decipher it.
She steps forward, her hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. Her touch is warm, familiar, and a sudden wave of emotion washes over me. I realize, with a sharp pang of realization, that this is likely the last time I will feel her touch for a very long time.
"Be strong, my daughter," she whispers, her voice low and resonant. "Remember who you are. Never forget Khavena."
With a final squeeze of my hand, she turns and leads me forward, towards where Caith stands, bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight. He is a vision in blue, a striking contrast to the sea of white and silver that surrounds us. The blue attire somehow softens his features, but does not take away from how intimidating he is. His eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I see something flicker within them. Anticipation? Curiosity? It is impossible to tell.
The audience sits as my mother leads me closer to Caith, her hand firm on my back. We reach the front, and I stand beside him, feeling his presence beside me, as palpable and unsettling as a sudden storm.
The celebrant, an elderly woman with kind eyes and a serene demeanor, steps forward. Her voice is clear and strong, cutting through the hushed silence of the hall.
"Friends, family, and loved ones," she begins, her gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd. "We have gathered in this place today to witness the joining of Caith and Arielle. This union is sanctioned not by lords or kings, but by the Creator who has brought these two souls together. We ask for all to bear witness to the promises they will make this day."
The celebrant pauses, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "Marriage is a sacred and binding union, a gift of companionship from the Creator to comfort life's sorrows and magnify its joys. This commitment is a great responsibility, and it is the intention of Caith and Arielle to love one another with a devotion that will grow stronger with each passing day. In so doing, they will build a life together far better than either could have imagined alone."
The celebrant takes a deep breath, her gaze turning solemn.
"If there is any among you who believes this union should not take place, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace. Cursed be the one who would seek to tear them asunder."
The celebrant pauses, allowing the weight of her words to sink in. The silence stretches, thick and heavy. I hold my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. I find myself hoping that this wouldn't turn out to be something big.
Then, just as I begin to relax, a voice shatters the silence.
"I do!"
The shout echoes from the back of the hall, sending a shockwave of disbelief through the crowd. All heads turn towards the source of the interruption, and a collective gasp ripples through the room. What in the seven hells is going on?