The Winter Queen (RH/Why Choose, MM, MF, MFM, FF) ✅

Chapter Eight

Marielle

The crowds had both unnerved me and given me strength as I walked out into the street where they lined up behind ropes, hoping to see me.

I had never been around large crowds before. I had grown up in a small village that I rarely visited, staying instead at my childhood home, surrounded mostly by servants and the occasional guest of my parents or my uncle.

My pulse slammed in my chest, making it feel tight, but it was not long before the crowds erupted in cheers, before people were calling out words of praise that helped build me up as I continued the long, cold path toward the church that towered over most of the town with its bright red, blue, yellow, and green stained glass windows and its dark brown brick that looked so stark against the white landscape.

Even the castle that would from now on be my home was of a light brick that all but melted into the dreary landscape.

The closer I got to the church itself, though, the more the confidence seemed to wear off as I realized I was finally going to come face-to-face with my very soon-to-be husband.

Then the doors were opening for me, the music was playing, the people were standing, and I was walking toward him.

I knew I had been prepared.

For an older man, someone old enough to be a grandfather.

I guess I just had not truly given it much thought.

The king of the cold lands was a man hardly a few inches taller than I was with shoulders that rounded and sloped downward, with a curve in his back, and with thin, delicate skin over a somewhat bony frame.

He had a full head of gray hair, surprisingly for his age, and the dark eyes that were typical of his land.

I imagined that he had once been quite a handsome man, if a bit small for this part of the world.

At least I found kindness and some warmth in his eyes as I approached.

Life had been rather hard thus far. It would be a relief to have a kind husband, even if he was quite old and frail.

"We finally meet," he said with a small smile as I stood before him.

"Indeed we do, sir," I agreed, giving him a smile despite my nerves.

"Let us get this pesky business over with so we can warm ourselves up again, shall we?" he asked, offering his arm which I took, but was careful not to actually lean any of my weight on him, paying close attention to my footing so I did not start to fall, and take him with me.

The wedding ceremony was a quick affair, words said, repeated, and rings exchanged.

The king, bless him, did not embarrass me with a long kiss, but instead pressed one to the very outside of my lips, not actually touching them at all, though it would have looked as so to the audience.

There were cheers and applause, and we were shuffled back out to the carriage to find both Cyprian and Warwick waiting for us, each assisting us into the carriage, and fussing with the furs to keep us warm.

"How are you feeling?" the king asked as the men got the horses into a slow walk so that everyone could look at us and wish us well as we both smiled and waved.

"Quite recovered, I thank you," I told him.

"Was Warwick correct?" he asked, making me glance at him, brows furrowed. "That you would like a dog," he clarified.

"Yes. It was a wonderful surprise. Thank you for allowing it."

"Oh, my dear," he said, exhaling hard, like something was bothering him. "You must start thinking as a queen, not a young girl under her cruel uncle's thumb," he told me. "You may have anything you wish now. A dog. A library. All the books you could want to fill it. Gowns. Jewels."