Torn Between Kingdoms

1

The room is deathly silent; the only thing audible being the pounding of my heart and my frantic breaths. The image of my father, mangled and unmoving, filters into my muddled mind. I despise such dreams. The dreams that remind me of the one person I can never get back.
With a shaky breath, I reluctantly force myself out of bed, reminding myself of what is expected
of me today.
                                      …
“Is there really a need for all of this?” I grumble, hissing through my teeth as the corset is pulled tighter, making me feel suffocated. I have been dreading my wedding day. To my dismay,
this is the day I will be forced to marry some random royal.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Irina replies, a strand of white hair falling in front of her eye as she works. “This is a very important day for not only you, but Sturak. You are required to do this.” Irina’s voice was motherly, but full of authority. The understanding in her tone comforted me in ways I was not used to. It frightened me at times.
“I am perfectly aware that this is important, but please, enlighten me on why I am being forced to marry someone who I have never had the pleasure of meeting?”
“Your majesty, you needn’t worry about that. What you have to concern yourself with now is making a good first impression.”
Irina’s words hang in the air around us, the atmosphere becoming so thick I can feel
myself losing oxygen with each attempted breath. I take a moment to look at her, my eyes scanning her aura. Around her petite frame is a vibrant blue the color of the most precious diamonds. I stare at the sapphire haze around her, recognizing it as sympathy. Irina has always been known for being kind. Rarely, you would see her frustrated or even angry. Despite this, I
can not help but feel frustrated by the situation.
“Forgive me, Irina, but I do not give a damn about this first impression. There is no love involved in this- this exchange. If I am going to be forced into this, I would have much rather it be with that insufferable princess of Vorniassia,” I snap bitterly, breathing heavily as I ball my
hands into fists, engraving crescent moon shapes into my palms. The thought of marrying Esfir Vespertine makes me want to disembowel myself, but at least I have met her. Esfir is the definition of beautiful. With fair skin, long, silky black hair, and eyes that shine like the purest of silver. Sadly, her personality does not match her beauty in the slightest. The last time I had the ‘privilege’ of being in her presence was the night my wedding was planned. To my irritation, her brother, my soon-to-be betrothed, did not take the time to show as much as a hair from his head. It wasn’t her constant, particularly rude babbling that infuriated me; it was the complaining that
seemed to pour from her mouth like a broken vase.
“I understand your frustration, Rhidian,” Irina’s voice pulls me from my thoughts,
drawing my eyes to her short, hunched-over frame, “but I beg that you bury these negative feelings. This marriage is the best thing that has happened to Sturak in a very long time. For the sake of your father’s name, Rhidian, please do this.” Irinia’s pleading makes my chest feel tight, but the mention of my father brings a sour taste to my mouth. If my father was still alive, I would not have to do this. He would not have stood for this ridiculous agreement; let alone one with the rival kingdom. It was hard to believe that my mother accepted such a deal.
Taking a moment to consider her words, I plaster my gaze into the mirror in front of me. I run my eyes over my auburn hair and the now faint freckles speckled across my face. With a reluctant smile, I turn to her again, “I understand, Irinia. It will be worth it in the long run, yes? Perhaps Esfir’s brother is not like her.”
Her expression tells me that she catches the way my voice weakens. Slowly, she raises a shaky, frail hand to my cheek.
“You are the strongest boy I have ever had the privilege of meeting, Rhidian. I am more than confident that you can do this.” I feel my chest loosen, a small, genuine smile creeping across my face as I place my hand on hers.
“Thank you,” a small sigh escapes my lips as I feel a small amount of confidence spread through me. “As much as I do not like this arrangement, perhaps it will not be so bad once I actually meet my husband.” A small laugh slips from Irina’s lips, causing me to relax as she continues to work on my suit.
                                      …
“The tie is fine, Irina.” I chuckle as I feel Irina’s fingers tugging and shifting the cloth around my neck. As soon as we arrived at the church, she had been scrambling around like a confused kitten.
“Let me work, Rhidian,” she snapped. “You have to look perfect for tonight; this
is very impor-”
“Yes, Yes, Irina. I understand. We have been over this," I interrupt, placing my hands on her thin shoulders, gripping them gently as I urge her to look into my eyes, “Everything will be
fine.” I reassure her, putting on a nervous smile that does not match my tone. She hesitates before
smiling softly, pulling me down gently to place a loving kiss on my cheek as she whispers, “I
believe in you, Rhidian,”
Inhaling deeply, I stand behind the curtain. This is it. I begin convincing myself to be
strong as I slowly shift the silky curtain to the side. The light is blinding, but the room is deathly silent as all eyes fall on me.
Standing as still as a statue, I scan the room for my mother. I am confident that dreadful
woman is giggling behind her hand as we speak, but I stop myself from thinking about her too
much. Her face infuriates me, so I give up on searching for it in the crowd. All I have to focus on
is making my way down this aisle, and to my new reality. As I take the first step, my nerves
begin crawling their way up my throat. A sour taste coats my tongue. I have never met the man I
am about to spend the rest of my life with, and it is terrifying. I itch to hear my father’s voice. To have the comfort of his embrace as I feel my entire life crumble with each step.
My chest tightens as I climb the few steps separating me from my life, and the new one ahead of me. My heart pounds in my ears as I finally stand in front of the man I have been terrified to meet. Feeling my mouth go dry, I lift my gaze to his, my breath catching as I meet his piercing, silver gaze. Much like his sister, he is gorgeous. With black hair resting elegantly over his shoulders, to his pale skin; he is both beautiful and terrifying to look at. I can’t help but admire him like a piece of art. The way his gaze never leaves mine makes me shiver. Unlike myself, the man before me doesn’t look mad or distressed about this situation; he looks…unbothered. Like this is just a normal evening for him.
“Ahem.”
The sound pulls me from my trance-like state, causing me to look at the plump, old man standing to our side. I hadn't even noticed him, but he was apparently there the entire time.
“I’m sorry,” my words come out weak. I find it quite funny since a voice can always reveal one's feelings, but my feelings do not matter at the moment, “Please, continue.”
The elder begins talking, but I struggle to hear a word he is spewing out. Everything is going so fast. My life is exploding, and it feels like I have nowhere to take cover. No matter how many times I tell myself that this is all for the greater good, I can’t seem to believe it. In no possible world would this benefit me, but deep down, I know this is for my mother's benefit. She doesn't care about this damned kingdom; she cares about her position in it. As fast as I was pulled into my mind, I was pulled right back out.
“Your Majesty, it is time for the vows. King Oleander has already said his.” The elder
sounds exasperated, making this more uncomfortable than it was to begin with. I feel alone. I hate to admit it, but Irinia is not on my side. I know she loves and pities me, but she truly believes this is a good thing. If not for me, then the kingdom.
“Ah, yes, the vows,” My stomach churns; I hadn’t prepared any vows. I have been so
preoccupied with planning this damned wedding, and going to political meetings, that it hadn’t crossed my mind to prepare words that I do not have the intention of giving any real meaning to. My mind swirls with thoughts of what to say. What would a man like Oleander appreciate hearing on a day like this? I can’t imagine he cares that he’s here to begin with, but maybe he is just better at hiding his emotions.
“I, Rhidian Ashford, take you, Oleander Vespertine, as my wedded husband. I promise to cherish you. To be there for you when you are at your lowest. I will dedicate every waking hour of my life from here on assuring that you are happier than you have ever been in this lifetime and the next. I promise to stay by your side every step of the way; even when times become
hard.” I take a deep breath. Shockingly, letting words spew from you takes a lot of air from your lungs. Oleander’s face remains stoic, seemingly unaffected by the words that I, respectfully, just pulled out of my ass.
Sighing, the man beside us speaks, “If everything has been settled, I hereby announce these two as newl8thyweds. Your majesties, if you would like to exchange the rings?”
Oleander reaches for the rings held up by the pearl-colored pedestal, and I follow shortly after him. Grabbing the silver ring, I look up at him. A surge of electricity shoots up my arm as he grabs my hand, lifting it slightly as he slowly slides my new ring on my finger. Following suit, I lift his hand and slide the matching ring on his, officially sealing my fate.
Thoughts begin to flood my mind. What happens now? Do I stay here at Sturak? Or do I go to Vorniassia? Everything seems like it is swirling around me. Now that this is actually happening, there is no way I can ignore it. Suddenly, the deep rumble of a voice pulls me from
the deep hole I have dug for myself. Looking up, I am met with Oleander's piercing gaze. The
gaze I will see every day for the rest of my life.
“I would like to get this over with, Prince Rhidian,” Oleander announces dryly. I feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. I cannot bring myself to speak, choosing to step closer without a word. Feeling his rough, large hand slide to my cheek, I instinctively lean closer. A surge of energy runs through my body as our lips connect. It is short; almost business-like. I suppose that is what you could call this. Just business.
As he pulls away, we turn to face the crowd. As applauses fill the room and the pews
begin filling with the sounds of clothes rustling as people begin standing, all I can think about is how badly I want to run from the pulpit and hide from this entire situation.