𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘

Chapter-4

Arlane's Nuan was a woman of few emotions. Words had long abandoned her voice, and despair clung to her dwellings like sickly honey. Nevertheless, when Arlane's red silk shoes led her to a path unknown, she could've sworn her grandmother's faint jasmine scent enveloped her whole. She took one step after another, her Pare and Moteh following her behind closely with a few guards from her Pare's legion.

Outside the tent was commotion so loud and alive,  like the lands had sprung force of nature into existence and breathed vibrancy in its air. So many people, lords. As if half of the Veyllewe Islands had joined them with their long-forgotten families. Music, and choirs, and breathtakingly blissful cuisines of food were lined up at tents and tables surrounded by never-ending queues. Sweet, and spice rolled off her senses when she walked towards her destination. 

For a serene moment, everyone halted. Arlane witnessed how a man dropped his steak stick about to reach his mouth which was now wide open. Considering how he didn't bother to look down at his spoilt food and kept gaping at Arlane, free food was not his priority anymore. Some women blocked their husband's views but most of them were looking at her like she was a Goddess hailed to Earth to save dried croplands. They gushed and murmured, and smiled lovingly at her. Some smiled for her. 

These people had seen her sneak out with Hejaz to the dark forests in Eastern regions, they had seen them fall in love and Hejaz supported her in every award gathering she was invited to. They had seen them as strong willful lovers who look steps, one by one ahead to build a future for themselves.

Now, they would see them declaring their love for eternity.

Some of the earlier anguish for leaving her childhood home dulled with the thought. She was moving forward in life, nothing said that she'd have to leave her home forever. She'll visit as much as she can, and she'll spend weekends and trips with her and Hejaz's family. They'll make it work. There was nothing Arlane couldn't make work. After all, she transformed her career on that pillar.

As she stepped ahead, forth came her acquaintances and friends. She reciprocated those unknown hugs with the same warmth they gave her, smiled back at some behind her amber veil, and blushed inside when a female named Gia, Hejaz's far-fetched cousin hugged Arlane and kissed her gently on her cheeks. Gia had the longest braids Arlane had ever seen. Her skin was darker than Hejaz with plaits reaching her ankles.

"Hejaz sure is a lucky male," Gia winked at Arlane and shook her head at the redness coating her cheeks and neck.

Arlane wasn't unaware of how Hejaz was a well-known spectacle in the female community, yet she was loved enough in her own sense. 

The sun was on the verge of drowning slowly. Orange and purple, and blue stroked the clouds floating in the sky with their mirth and caressed them into leaving behind a spectacle none could forget. The wind seemed to flow where Arlane walked, like guards of the Bride willing herself to the Matrimonial Ceremony of Yeelen. 

To her far right, Arlane saw Lydia and her husband Yosaen, the Third in Command of their Secret Army called Project Fesia. The same was a result of an uprising in their neighbor territories for Zaharbrun, their tribe, had amicable amenities with regard to nature.

Their lake never dried, flowers bloomed miraculously, no sign of famine for two centuries, and the best of healers the world has ever seen.  These territories planned to steal the tribe's medical stocks rather than asking for aid which led to the formation of a Secret Army behind closed doors and Arlane remembered how Ly kept squealing praises of her husband at his job. Especially behind closed doors. 

Lydia was a natural blonde, one of those women who could wear any garment and enhance its value. Her dark blue gown was simple with a slit on her thigh, and her Zesten's breeches, the same in color complimented his light color. She was one of the people Arlane trusted with her life. Lydia reached almost Arlane's height with her brown skin and a peal of laughter that sounded as noisy as Arlane.