The Princess becomes a Queen

She was perfection. The gown was beautifully tailored to fit her small frame, and suitable for the occasion. Made of green velvet, overlaid with a sheer covering of gold fabric, it looked like a garment straight out of a fairytale. Matching emeralds, set in gold, circled her neck, wrists, and dangled from her ears. A wedding gift of stunning beauty, because they matched her eyes. The tiara set upon her upswept, auburn hair also held similar jewels, and from it descended a veil of shimmering gold, embroidered with the finest, tiny seed pearls. Her eyes were lined in black kohl, emphasizing their exotic, almond shape, her cheeks had been kissed with just a hint of rose tinted powder, and her lips had been painted with that same rose hue. The scent of jasmine had been dabbed behind her ears, at the base of her throat, just between her breasts, on each wrist, and behind each knee. Her hands held a stunning bouquet of calla lilies, five in number, wrapped in the same elegant fabric of her dress.

It would be just a few moments now. The guests had arrived, the church was prepared, and the priest had been to see her. Of course, the usual words of advice had been offered, though they fell on deaf ears. She had been wed before, though in a less grandiose fashion. She had been so young, eager, and unknowing of what marriage truly entailed. Unfortunately, she had not had an opportunity to find out. A mere two months after her wedding, her husband had fallen ill and passed away. It was just as well, for it had been rumored he had a penchant for young knights in the kingdom. Only twice had he been to their marriage bed, and the experiences had been less than stellar. The thoughts of clumsy fumbling and pain still made her shudder. Of course, with the brashness of youth, she had sworn never to marry again. Her Father, always the doting parent, had agreed; until two weeks ago. Two weeks ago, the King Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen Valenti, from the Kingdom of Nharati, had ridden into Geldenland in the midst of conflict. She could still remember her first sight of him as she had stood in the tower. He had been in full armor, sitting atop the largest, blackest warhorse she had ever seen. A bevy of knights, squires, and commoners rode behind him, only adding to the aura of power projected. The company had paused at the gates, and as if sensing he was being watched, Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen gaze descended to the very spot in which she stood. Ironically, that day, she had chosen to dress in gold, the color a perfect compliment to her burnished hair and pale skin. Those devastating eyes had watched her for several, long minutes. She could have sworn he was undressing her in his mind, so intent was the stare. Then, with only a nod, he waved his contingent forward, and into the gates they came.

Of course, the entire palace was abuzz with excitement. The King of Nharati's reputation more than preceded him. He was known for his hard policies, his bravery on the battlefield, and his conquest of many enemy strongholds. It was no surprise her Father had sought his aid, considering the enemy Horde that had been plaguing Geldenland for several months. Geldenland was a rich, port kingdom, and very strategic to many areas. This recent conflict was not the first that had been fought, but it had been the hardest. Many had lost their lives, and many of the villages had been burned to the ground. Her Father's coffers were getting low, and unless he had done something, Geldenland was sure to be lost. For several hours, the two Kings had gone into talks within her Father's study. Surprisingly, there had been no raised voices, no pounding of fists. In fact, there had been.... laughter. It had been so long since she had heard her Father's laughter, that it caught her off guard. When the meeting ended, Nharati's King was shown to a set of quarters and his men taken care of. Her Father had come to her own rooms, sat her down, and explained her new betrothal to this intimidating man. She had wanted to balk, at first, but for once, common sense prevailed as her Father detailed everything. Nharati would form an alliance with Gelderland, and offer it's arms and protection under one condition; she was to become his bride before the month was ended.

After her Father had taken his leave, she had paced her chambers in nervous agitation. How could she marry a man she did not even know? He was so large, intimidating, and handsome. God, was the man handsome. His long, sable locks made her just itch to bury her fingers in their mass. His lips, so full and inviting, made her envision herself kissing him passionately. Had she ever even experienced such a kiss? Only once, and that had been at the tender age of sixteen. However, she had the distinct impression that would pale in comparison. As much as she fretted and walked in circles, she knew she had to do this. It meant the survival of her Kingdom, her Father, and her people. How could she not make such a sacrifice? The announcement had been made that eve at the grand, hastily prepared feast. There had been more laughter, drinking, and eating. The atmosphere, for the first time in months, held hope. Hope that Geldenland, and her people, would survive to see another year. To his credit, the King Valenti had been most attentive to her. She had sat at his side in the hall while the announcements were read, congratulations were offered, and toasts were made. He had fed her the choicest morsels from his own plate, sated her thirst with wine from his own goblet, and brushed his lips across her knuckles in the most chaste of manners. Ease was beginning to quell the panic in the young Princess. Perhaps being wed to this stranger would not be such a bad thing.

The feast had ended in the wee hours of the morning, and those who had not passed out on the floor of the dining hall, had taken to their quarters. She, herself, had barely stripped herself from her elaborate gown and headpiece when her own door was pushed open. As if he had every right, Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen marched right into her rooms. A quick nod dismissed the servants, then, it was just the two remaining. She remembered standing there, clad only in her chemise, trembling like a trapped doe. As he had done when she stood at the tower window, his eyes raked over her form. For all of the intensity she saw, she may as well have been completely bared. Then, he was standing before her, wrapping his hand in her waist length, fiery tresses, and kissing her. Never had a kiss been so passionate, so consuming, as the one he delivered that eve. Any protest was swallowed by his heated lips. Any breath she tried to draw was taken into his body. It was in that moment, she knew she was his, body, heart and soul. He would accept nothing less. For hours, he had taken her body in ways she never imagined possible. There was not an inch of skin that did not know his fingers and lips. He seemed to know exactly where to touch, how much pressure to exude, what to whisper, to have her melting. When she was convinced she could take no more of his passion, when she felt as if she would scream were he to touch her overly sensitive skin again, he drove her further. Before it was all over, she was shamelessly begging for the overwhelming pleasure he seemed tireless in giving. Only when exhaustion rendered her senseless, did he relent, pulling from her and covering her sweat soaked body with the thick, silk counterpane. The most tender of kisses was pressed to her swollen lips, then he placed his large hand around her neck. Slowly, slowly he tightened his grip, cutting off her air by minute degrees. Her eyes widened, for she was convinced her was to kill her, right there in the tangled sheets. How surprised she was when he lowered his head to her naked, left breast and sank his sharp teeth into her tender mauve hued nipple. The hand at her throat allowed only a hoarse whimper as pain rocked through the small body. She could feel the warmth of her own blood as it pooled around the teeth drawing it. Only then, did he release to lick over the abused, wounded peak. His head rose back up, and lips were on her own once more. It was strange to taste the coppery tang of one's own blood, but there it was, on his tongue. That kiss seemed to be more passionate, more heated, than any he delivered in the hours before. It went on for countless moments, and before she realized it, she was eagerly returning it, despite the choking grip he still had. Finally, he pulled away, looked down at her with an intent that made her heart thunder, and whispered a single word. "Mine."

The next two weeks had been a flurry of activity while preparations for the wedding occurred. In that time, she had scarcely seen her husband to be, but she had remembered every detail of that lift altering night. Her nipple still bore the imprint of his bite, and would for the rest of her life. Now, in just a few minutes, she was to become his Queen, his wife, and the mother of his children. She was to leave Geldenland to live in his world; to live in Nharati and make it her home. She knew not what the future would bring, for none did. However, she had a feeling it would be a tumultuous, wonderful ride in the years to come. The knock on the chamber door drew her attention. It was time, finally. In just a short walk, and a few words, she would never again be referred to as Her Highness. From then on, she would be Her Majesty, the Queen Danele Alexandra Kayden Valenti, wife of Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen, and joint ruler of all of Nharati. The Princess would become the Queen.