The Kingslayer's Queen

Chapter 3 Home

(Nikolai's POV)

We sat at an elongated rectangular wooden table. On each side there were at least ten chairs and at the head of the table sat my betrothed father and I. To my left, Fatima to my right, my father. Julena had felt too ill to join us all for dinner. The truth was, I was thankful. I couldn't look at my wife without feeling such heavy guilt in my chest. She didn't deserve this, she was a good woman and I was trading her off as if she were some old horse I had no more room left for my life. It wasn't fair and it didn't feel right, but there was just no other way.

As for my bride to be, her beauty was undeniable, but she was a girl. A child who would then provide more children.

"Fatima!" I heard my father's excited voice. Fatima turned to look at him, straightening her back. His smile grew as he took in her warm eyes. "Are you excited to be moving to Toten?"

Fatima set of fork down and moved your hands towards her lap. She cleared her throat before speaking and then smiled kindly. It was a genuine smile, one that wasn't forced or practiced. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Yes, I hear you have beautiful gardens near your home...my home." She corrected herself. That was most certainly a lie. She may have wanted to see the garden, which indeed was beautiful, but she did not see my home as hers.

"Yes my girl, the gardens are very beautiful, much like you." Conversation died down, for Fatima only smiled in gratitude and bowed her head slightly. Only moments later did a handful of servants walk out with multiple platters in each hand. They smiled at Fatima who thanked them in return. Mindless chatter engulfed the room as my bride to be and I sat in silence pushing around the food on our platters. It wasn't until towards the end of dinner that Fatima spoke and when she did, it was to excuse herself. Sadly, her father had denied her and told her to take a seat and wait until everyone was done.

It wasn't until I saw the disappointment in her eyes that a pang of something ugly grew in my chest.

"Go." I said, looking down at the platter before me.

I felt her eyes on me for but a second before she looked back at her father.

"You are to be my wife, you must do as I say. You are excused." I said simply, looking up from my plate and to her face. She did not wait to see if her father would oppose my word. She quickly rose from her chair, mumbles a thank you, curtsied as if she had been doing it all her life, and turned on her heels, walking away.

The conversation that followed was one that I wished Fatima would have been present to hear. Marrying her would change both our lives. Knowing the ins and outs of our relationships and what was expected of both of us was something I hoped she would be here to hear. Sadly that meant I would have to speak to her privately about it later. It wasn't that I didn't want to get to know her. We would spend the rest of our lives together, we would have to get to know each other sooner or later. Prolonging that was silly.

As my father stood to speak, I too stood, excusing myself quickly. I much like Fatima did not wait to hear their responses. I simply turned and walked away towards the door Fatima had used to exit the dinning hall.

I had no idea where I was going or if I should just call it a night and ask one of the servants rushing past me where my bedroom would be. Then I saw her. It was the girl that seemed to be joined at the hip with my future queen. She was very beautiful, hair long and blonde. A shade lighter of evergreens for eyes. Her lips were pink and full. Were it not for the puffy red circling both her eyes and nose, I would think she was a ray of sunshine.