𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘

Chapter-3

Arlane wondered if her Pare was crying.

But even in her mind, that statement sounded ridiculous. It wasn't like she was shifting continents or even going as far as a day's journey. 

A choked sound gurgled out somewhere behind her as she stood in front of a large mirror with ancient spells decorated at the borders. 

Her Pare was definitely crying. 

Lennox did a pity job at hiding behind his wife. She was too small to be used as a cover for his tormented expression but he was helpless. Lousa didn't shed a single tear. Only twice had he seen the woman he loved so dearly cry. This was not one of those times. Lousa had her head high, chin jutted out and pride shone in her eyes as both of them beheld their daughter in one of the most beautiful dresses their tribe had ever witnessed on a day as such. 

The sun was at its peak when Arlane had clothed herself in the dress sewn by her Nuan. Beyond their huge orange tent drums and claps and bells were renouncing a sound that portrayed the initiation of a journey so beautiful that even the Spirits above would bless soon.

It didn't hurt that Arlane looked stunning in a deep red and maroon full-length garment with layers and layers of silk lines behind the lace bodice. With a modest rectangular neckline that highlighted her collarbones and the swell of her breasts flowed the garment in the deepest shades of red.

At the seams, little shiny pearls were embedded with utmost precision in three layers, one above another moving downwards to her corset into a lighter shade of scattered red. Lighter, and lighter as the dress flowed downwards merging with soft strokes of orange and amber at her feet. 

Arlane's sapphire-plaited hair was wrapped in a circular coil just a tad above her bare neckline by a pair of ruby hair pins her Moteh handed over yesterday. A family heirloom passed through daughters who shone fiercely as a stone itself. Soft lips painted in red juice and the grey-violet eyes of the woman in question sparked disbelief and excitement. 

Arlane was getting married. 

All of it felt surreal. It seemed as if only yesterday Hejaz along with his parents had visited Arlane's two-story childhood house, one her Pare assembled through his hands as a young man. Hejaz's parents adored Arlane dearly even though certain qualms had risen. Her Pare to his credit had only smiled tightly once at Hejaz'comment on Arlane liking her tea to be unusually cold. 

Hejaz's mother, Mellisa was a beautiful female with a sleek black bun and chocolate-colored skin. Mellisa had chided how her son preferred warm food and Arlane's inability to stand in the kitchen without burning the whole thing to ashes and that she'd have to work very diligently to earn her son as a Zesten. 

Everyone had laughed, including Arlane but hers were in embarrassment. 

Everyone except her Pare, Moteh, and Nuan.

Men or women were often intimidated by the sheer size and bulk of her Pare. Lousa on the other hand was all sweet smiles and a courteous host.  So it came as a shock to Arlane when Lousa stated in the coldest voice she'd ever heard from her mother,  "If you wish for a cook or maid, plenty of women seek coins for the purpose. I raised my daughter to be a leader. Arlane was the first and youngest researcher to find a way to help rape victims preserve evidence in their wombs even after months of going through that brutality. I'd rather have my daughter help humankind through her service than writhe in a kitchen she doesn't wish to be in."

To this, Lennox added looking at Hejaz who had his lips sealed, "'You have trouble with arrows and bows don't you? Arlane may help you if she deems. My daughter's aim is one of the best I've seen in my duty as a commander."