The Empty Ones (Fantasy Romance)

23. Mahrani

My steps are heavy. The cheering crowd is replaced by scrutinizing eyes as soon as I set foot out of that carriage.

The basilique is a magnificent building, surely crafted with magic because traditional building technologies cannot carve stone and glass to this extent, to this perfection, and to these heights, in those exquisitely organic shapes.

All white, charging towards the sky, tall as nothing else surrounding it, it seems like a living organism of astonishing grace. The light seeps majestically into the body of the building emphasizing the way I need to take to the shrine.

All this beauty humbles me, all these eyes are intimidating me. I cannot lift my gaze from the ground for at least ten steps but I know I have to eventually, because my future husband, the prince, is waiting for me.

Breathe, Zara, and look up!

There are so many faces and among them no familiar one until I see at the first steps of the shrine a boyish male with dark curls and bright eyes. I don't know if he really is that beautiful but to me, he looks radiating for all the hope he embodies. He is wearing white garments, embroidered richly with silver thread, that fold beautifully on his lean body. I remembered from the lessons in the priory that the man that will be married will wear crimson and gold, just like the bride. It isn't the same in all countries but it is in the South. Maybe he doesn't like those colors though. He is the price and he can wear whatever he wants.

My prince. I don't remember much about him. Actually, I never knew much but I will learn everything and I will be everything he wants me to be. The only price I ask is kindness.

On the other side of the steps are three women. I know only one of them, the Empress. She is dressed richly in white adorned with silver, just like her son, and just like the other women I don't know. She looks at me and catches my gaze. Then she frowns and I feel like dying.

I am an empty girl; she likely doesn't want her son to marry me. It's understandable. That doesn't make her a bad person. I will just have to win her over. I will try my best, for Prince Dair.

The other women are all significantly younger than her and strikingly beautiful. One is midrib; her hair is shoulder long and very curly, not light curls like Chioma's, and her eyes are a lighter pink but they sparkle magic. The second is very white-skinned, tall and her breasts and hips are forming a perfectly voluptuous hourglass of carnal sin. She is aggressively, strikingly beautiful, with quizm ears and quita eyes. These women might be important courtiers. Maybe the appointed Alsayid is a woman. That would be so exciting. I will make sure to befriend them.

I hope the prince will not be embarrassed of my time in the priory.

There are so many questions and no steps left. I am in front of him. He is slightly taller than me and smells of something very pleasant, like roses. Despite what the woman Nefri told me I don't kneel, I raise my head and smile at him.

A faint smile tugs at his lips too but it's really only faint because in his eyes I read a wide array of other things, alarming things like worry and maybe a tint of sorrow. He is likely as nervous as I am but I will show him he doesn't have to be.

I raise my hand to touch his face and continue to smile.

"Don't worry, my prince. We will make sense of this together."

I hoped that my words will calm him but his expression is almost horrified.

"Lower your hand, Mahrani. We are not allowed to touch. Your consort, the Emperor, will join you shortly at the shrine. Now lower your hand as calmly as possible and climb the steps," he whispers in a placid voice. Maybe it's not placid but I hear it only faintly over the trumping of my heart in my ears.