The Fae Queen's Desire

Chapter 1: The Royal Wedding

My wedding day was the saddest day of my life. As I stood at the entrance of the Great Hall, preparing to walk down the aisle, I could feel the weight of the guests' gazes upon me. Dressed in a gown of shimmering silver that accentuated each delicate curve of my figure, I looked every bit the beautiful bride. My long blonde hair cascaded down my back in loose waves, adorned with delicate flowers that matched those entwined around my slender wrists. But as radiant as I appeared on the outside, my heart was heavy with dread.

At the end of the aisle awaited King Arthur, my soon-to-be husband. He was tall and imposing, his light brown hair falling around his broad shoulders. His piercing blue eyes seemed to bore into my very soul, and I had to force myself not to shudder at the sight of him. As much as I tried to find something noble or kind in his features, all I could see was the cruel beast who had bested me during the battle of Avalon.

"Princess Guinevere!," the chamberlain called out, his voice booming through the hall.

As I looked at my future husband, I couldn't help but feel regret and shame. My magic abilities, once a source of pride and strength, had been no match for Arthur's raw physical power. I remembered standing atop a hill, watching in horror as his relentless forces marched towards Avalon, their swords glinting menacingly in the sun. How had it come to this?

My fingers tightened around the bouquet of bluebell flowers, my knuckles turning white as I tried to swallow down the anger and desperation rising in my chest. I could feel the weight of the guests' eyes on me, their whispers growing louder with each passing second. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out their voices as my thoughts raced.

How could I do this? How could I marry the man who had taken my father's life during the war of Avalon and caused the death of so many of my fae brethren? Yet, I knew that if I refused, Arthur would destroy everything I held dear.

The murmuring grew louder, and I heard a cough from someone in the audience. I knew I had to move; I couldn't stand there forever, paralyzed by fear and hatred. With a deep, shaky breath, I forced myself to take one step forward, and then another, my footsteps echoing through the cold, unwelcoming halls of Camelot's Castle.

I couldn't help but compare the bleak, eerie atmosphere of King Arthur's Castle to the warmth and beauty of my home in Avalon. The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries depicting bloody battles and conquests, a stark contrast to the vibrant, enchanting murals that graced Avalon's halls. Shadows danced across the room, cast by flickering torches that offered little comfort against the chill in the air.

"Come on, Guinevere," I thought to myself, willing my legs to carry me down the aisle. "For Avalon."

As I continued down the aisle, my gaze swept over the assembled guests. Fae and human royalty sat side by side, their faces a mix of curiosity and disdain as they stared at me. It was hard to believe that not long ago, these very same people had been locked in brutal combat on the battlefields. Since King Arthur's conquest of the four fae kingdoms began, many of my kind had been killed or enslaved, treated with fear and contempt by the humans who now filled the hall.

My heart clenched with sorrow and fury as I observed them all, but I forced myself to keep moving forward. The tension between the fae and humans attending the wedding hung heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. I could practically taste their unease, and it only served to fuel the fire of desperation within me. The hall seemed to stretch on forever, and I felt as though I was marching towards my own execution.

As I drew closer to the altar, my eyes met those of my mother, Lir, the Lady of the Sea and Queen of Avalon. Her beauty was otherworldly – her long, flowing hair glinted like the ocean waves and her eyes held the depth and mystery of the sea. A silver diadem rested upon her brow, adorned with pearls and precious gems.