thirty-four.

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chapter thirty-four, it will look perfect

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chapter thirty-four, it will look perfect.

FRANCESCA PASSED IN FRONT OF HER MIRROR, Aaron sat on their bed, watching his wife. Normally, a married couple would separate rooms after the honeymoon but the two refused. They needed to be close to one another.

"Francesca," he said softly, his words cutting the silence like a knife. Francesca ignored him unintentionally, her heart beating in her ears and her heels clicking against the marble. Her dress flowed with ever sharp movement, her brunette curls getting frizzy with the every whip of her head.

"Francesca," his stern voice snapped her out of her trance.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, walking over to him and nuzzling into his side. Aaron wrapped his arms around her, pressing soft kisses to her hair, forehead and neck.

"No need to apologize, my love. Mind telling me what's wrong?" He murmured, resting his chin against her head. Francesca groaned, getting up once more.

"What if I'm not a good queen?" Francesca asks, her voice breaking with every word. The weight of disappointment hurt her heart, the coronation was tomorrow and her nerves hadn't died down at all. Aaron sighed, standing up and walking over to his wife. His hands rested on her hips, his touch being the balm to her nerves.

"My love, you will be an amazing queen."

"How do you know that?"

"How do you not know that? Francesca, baby, you have to realize how perfect you are. You are what our country needs, you're what I need."

"But what if I-"

"Enough about this, you're perfect. You will make an excellent queen, and even if you struggle I'll be there. We will figure this out together, okay?" Aaron tried to reassure Francesca. Luckily, it worked. Francesca called down, although the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach stayed, she felt alright.

"You know, you truly are the perfect husband," Francesca smiled a sweet smile, her heart beating with love for Aaron. Aaron smiled back at her, his hands encircling her waist. He peppered kisses along her skin, her rosy cheeks, her button nose, her silk neck. Any skin he could reach he kissed softly. Giggles spilled from Francesca's lips, her hands pushing his chest away slightly. His hold on her only tightened.

"Good, it means you're happy, does it not?" He smiles, a soft laugh bubbling up his throat at the sight of his wife so cheery.

"I am very happy, my love. More happy than I ever thought until would or could be." Francesca smiled, her giggles dying down, her face, which still held a bright smile, becoming a bit more serious.

"Good. I will strive to make sure you are happy, healthy, loved and perfectly tended to. I only wish for you to have the best of the best, and my dear, you will receive it." Aaron said softly, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, his touch burning the rosy skin. Francesca turned her head, kissing his palm delicately.

"I love you, Aaron." Francesca said softly, her voice slicing through the air like bells in a church. Aaron leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, the delicate touch filled with tenderness, love, affection and promise.

It was a promise to always love her, to always make sure she was loved and happy. It was a promise that she would never know the pains of the world as long as he may live. It was his promise to her. It was that of a King, whom would only ever kneel for one person. It was the promise that he would always kneel for his Queen, his Francesca.

"And I love you, Francesca. My only regret is that I did not realize it sooner, my love." Aaron whispered, his hand now twisting a string of her perfect hair.

Francesca was perfection, and he was the luckiest man in the world to be able to hold her, love her, take care of her. Had he not swooped in and married her when he did, their stories would have been very different than the one they know now.

Perhaps that story would have been filled it hatred, pain, regret and anger. Perhaps Aaron would have married Linnette Sparks, or Alice DuPont. Perhaps Francesca would have ran away, or maybe she would have married an old bloke. Perhaps Francesca would have been a mother by now, her body forever stained by another man's touch.

The thought alone made Aaron's heart ache and his stomach churn, but for now, he was grateful. Grateful to call this gorgeous woman his wife.





DELLA SPEAKS !
I got so much writers block this isn't funny

Utter Devotion, Aaron Tveit Where stories live. Discover now