The glowing medallion in the sky was rising up and its golden beams began to splash the balcony of His Majesty. He was standing against the balustrade having his right hand slightly covering his eyes from the sun's dazzling rays. He removed his hand and shut his eyes instead. He breathed, inhaling the sweet smell of flowers cutting through the soft scent of the morning's dew grass. As he open his eyes again, a smile formed in his lips. It was a subtle one, but enough to shrink the corner of his eyes. At last, he thought.
The King's sight fell down to the palace's garden. The rectilinear meadow was demarcated by water channels forming squares of flowering shrubs. What was only jade and myrtle green a week before had become a garland of the most vibrant blooms. It was as if they call them for trees to accompany them. Fruits began to peak through its thick leaves, making the garden even brighter. In the middle, white water cascaded down a series of flattened stones, giving the effect of many waterfalls rather than just one.
His Majesty's smile turned into a grimace as he saw a figure standing beside the shrubs. The figure was of a man having broad shoulders and burly body. He was wearing a deep blue doublet paired with white breeches.
The man's stares were locked in the cascades. His eyeballs slowly travelled upwards as he felt a gaze stabbing him with daggers. He saw the King on his octagonal balcony. As their eyes met, he glared the sovereign with the same intensity.
The King turned his back from the man.
Whereas, the man kept his stares. He sighed and returned his gaze to the flowing water. Moments later, he noticed a shadow beside him. He did not even bother to turn his head nor lay his eyes.
His Majesty stood beside the noble man, neither too far nor too near but enough to hear his response.
A minute had passed yet the man remained standing still, refusing to acknowledge his presence.
"I believe thou ought to pay thy respect," the King spoke. His eyes watched his movements. "Once could be forgiven... but twice shall cost thou thy life," he threatened.
"Thou deserve no respect," the man responded, void of any emotion. His eyes remained on the cascades, watching the water fall.
The King smirked and raised his brows. "Death, then," he said. He walked one step toward the shrub in his front and gripped the stem of a red flower, calla lily. "Shall I take thy head? Or shall I force poison in thy mouth, staging it as suicide?" He plucked the flower the same time he uttered the last word.
"Thy own demise shall be thy concern more than mine," the man turned his head to the sovereign at last. "For he who sits on the throne shall not remain alive long," he said, flashing a smile to the King.
His Majesty clenched his jaw for the phrase he had uttered was the same phrase he mentioned to the King before him. "Is that a threat?" he said, shifting his position to face the man.
"Thou art threatened, then perchance it is," the man responded.
The King glared him. "My demise is not mine alone but Her Majesty's as well," he said.
The man's sight fell on the flower in the sovereign's hand.
His Majesty continued, "Kill me and it shall fall upon her reign too. Thou do not want that, art thou?"
The man spoke no more.
His Majesty smirked and spoke once more, "Thou art not dressed for the wedding. Above all else, thou - the Governor of her province - must witness her being crowned."
It was the man's turn to clench his jaw for that title was not given to him as triumph but as mercy.
His Majesty's eyes fell on the Governor's hands that had formed into fists.
The man glared the King. "The province she was born, not the province she honors," he stressed.
"All the same. If not for her, thou art long gone. She saved your worthless skin," the King scoffed. "Pay thy respect, shall thou?" He uttered and smiled.
The Governor clenched his fists tighter. "It was thee whom she saved. If not for her, the throne art not thine to protect," he said contempt in his voice.
The King did not respond yet kept his smile, stretched it even wider.
It was that time when the Governor stooped slowly yet lingered his glare to the King. Eventually, he straightened his posture again, broke the gaze, and started walking passed him.
Though smiling, the sovereign was beginning to manifest a full-blooded face. "She had chosen me," he whispered.
But enough for the man to hear. He halted his footsteps but did not turn.
The King's grin faded while his eyes stared at nothingness. "She could've chosen you and she'll still be queen," he muttered. He continued, "Yet, she did not. Live with that grief." His Majesty heard no response from the man. "I am Ophir's sovereign. She is the Queen, my queen. Thou art a Duke. Understand that?" His voice had shifted into deeper sound. The man kept silent. "Thou shalt not covet the throne nor the Queen any longer. Rather, serve us with thy life," he reiterated.
The man simpered. "Long... live... the King," he said but the words tasted bitter in his mouth, and began stepping his feet again away from the eagle he had defeated in every battle, yet remained standing glorious in the war.
The King's face had fully flushed in anger. Unbeknownst to himself, he pushed his nails deep into his palms, crushing the calla lily. A Garnet substance then had dripped from his fingers.
***
She was staring herself intently in front of the mirror. Her hair had already tied up and varieties of color were already in her face. She touched the part of the mirror that directly reflected her face, contemplating how huge she had changed. Memories of the distant past flashed in her mind. Her soft lips rose in a smile that did not quite reached her eyes. Rather, it brimmed with tears, as if all those years had passed in a matter of seconds. She looked up and tapped her lower lashline with a knuckle to prevent them from falling.
"My Lady, it is time," the handmaiden informed the woman sitting across the vanity.
She stood up and walked towards a larger mirror that reflects her head down to her feet. The maids clothed her with her wedding dress, jewelleries and ornaments.
The huge doors of the church finally revealed the bride. Petals of red roses showered the aisle replacing the traditional red carpet. Everyone gasped in awe.
She was wearing a red off-shoulder gown implicated with black lace all over it. The corset hugged her body and the full skirt glazed on the floor. The diamonds were scattered on top of the laces and a ruby was placed in the middle of her chest just above her bust. A six yard train of handmade silk velvet royal mantle was flowing in her back. Its top and underside had trimmed ermine and fully lined with pure silk satin, complete with ermine cape, and embroidered with calla lilies. She was holding a bloody-coloured bouquet of the same flowers with her hands covered in black gloves that extended in her arms until after the elbows. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun with a golden crown she designed herself - filled with gems, pearls, crystals and diamonds in a symmetrical pattern.
Golden piercings filled her earlobes but the most noticeable was the ruby looped and hanged down like a teardrop. The golden necklace wrapped around her neck had ruby gemstones equally distanced from one another. Although covered in gloves, a golden bracelet circled her wrists carved with calla lilies pattern. Tiny ruby stones were placed in the middle of each sculpt. Her brick-red lipstick brightened more as she smiled. Her dark makeup complimented her complexion and defined her goddess-like yet dangerous features.
The people were in complete silence.
She found the King's eyes.
He smiled. He was also in his magnificent silk velvet royal mantle, embroidered with gold eagles, and all being tailed ermine. His surcoat had elaborated needlework and his girdle was filled with precious gemstones and ornaments. His other regalia were golden and blinding as they were designed with intricate gemstones and diamonds. The crown was the most gallant of them all.
She smirked and began her first step. She locked her eyes with His Majesty's and plastered smile in her lips.
People stooped down when she walked passed their row. There was no other noise aside from the piano keys. The royal mantle enveloped the aisle like no one else was bound to walk where she walked. Every person in the room felt her unimaginable superiority with every step she made. Few raised their brows disapproving the theme of her dress, but smiled heedless.
As soon as she reached the altar, the King of Ophir reached for her hand with a smile. She gave him a smile too - a true and assuring one.
The wedding ceremony went on.
"I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride," the royal priest declared and the couple shared a royal kiss. They were holding each other's hands.
"Long live the King! Long live the Queen!" The people shouted.
The King and Queen broke their kiss, smiled and turned to the crowd. They released one of their hands and waved to the crowd. Their smile grew even wider.
The King glanced at her Queen. She was smiling and it reached her eyes. His smile faded. 'Are you truly happy?' he worried. The Queen, then, turned and looked back to him, grinning. It made him smile again. They walked the aisle together towards the door. The people kept applauding and shouting. When they reached the outside, more people were cheering for them.
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Suddenly, when the Queen had a glimpse in the left part of the crowd, she saw someone. He had a composed posture, high status unmistakable. Albeit his eyes were akin to dead, numb and stoic. Her eyes shifted to the side again and became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She looked to that person again but the person had already turned and was already leaving. She watched his back getting farther and farther away from her.
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