Dedicated to TaraLC - For the first detailed critique on this story with many helpful tips and encouragement.
Chapter 3: Wedding Fireworks (Part 1 of 2)
The first rays of summer cascaded through the stained-glass windows of the Goddess Temple, blanketing its smooth stone floors and tall columns in a thick aura of rainbow lights and warmth. Outside, the joyous laughter of children who rose early rang through the streets, in stark contrast to the solemnity within the temple walls.
At the altar, a man and woman knelt, listening to the usual humdrum from the temple priest.
The man wore a white silken shirt, black breeches, and a pair of well-worn black leather boots. Though he garbed plainly—the way any other man on the streets of Steersberg did—he exuded power and strength from his piercing dark eyes and chiselled jaw, down to his broad shoulders and strong-muscled legs. His presence itself commanded attention and reverence.
Beside him, the woman was in a most conservative dress of cream silk with a high neck and long hanging sleeves. Despite the current fashion for an elegant train, her dress widened at the hips to a full, padded skirt with several layers of cotton and taffeta. Instead of letting her hair flow long and free like the girls in the north did, she donned a large white-blond wig and powdered her face pale, so that from all angles she was an image of cream white, her bright red lips the only speck of colour from afar.
Unlike him, she preferred to announce her wealth and nobility through an abundance of silver embroidery, pearls and lace. If she had any beauty, it was very well disguised.
Strangely, it was the man that smiled and the woman that scowled.
Before them, the giant sculpture of the great Goddess Mycenas smiled down on them with her gentle face, hearing the vows and blessing the marriage of even the most ill-matched couple.
"I, Amelia Alexandria Weston, take you, Drake Rohan, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part."
Drake didn't know whether to cringe or laugh. If he could, he might have done both. Before this day, he was a bachelor that women North and South liked and lusted after. On the few occasions he presented himself at the royal court, shy maidens and widowed noblewomen alike swarmed around him like butterflies drawn to fresh nectar. And yet, this one - his bride and soon-to-be wife - had just gritted the vows through her teeth. Towards the end, the words even sounded oddly like snarls.
However little he cared for Amelia's affection, or lack thereof, she had pricked his pride.
He was not surprised, really. All morning, she had openly displayed her discontentment towards him. When they walked down the carpeted aisle of the temple earlier, she deliberately bumped her heavy layered skirt into him at every opportunity, attempting to trip him up and ridicule him.
Even now, as they turned to face each other at the priest's signal, Amelia glared up at him through narrowed slits of eyes. His gaze latched onto her unfaltering glare as he slid his mother's emerald wedding ring on her finger.
He knew she was displeased about the wedding. Mayhap she wished to spend time planning it and make this a day to remember, as all women did. But it was her fault. He was an experienced merchant and lord of a large estate. Certainly experienced enough to sniff trouble at the first whiff of it yesterday. The wise women of Steersberg had looked at his and Amelia's birth stars, and determined that this day was the luckiest day in five years for their union. Normally he would not have cared. But marrying a lofty woman like Lady Amelia, he needed all the luck he could get.
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Bride Behind the Mask
Romance[COMPLETE] Drake Rohan's wife is a real piece of work. He despises everything about her. Everything from the heavily-powdered face, to the overly-red lips, to the shrilly voice she uses to yell the heads off the servants. But this marriage was his m...
