Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

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            Being a queen wasn't going to be easy, Alina knew that. She was already a legend at age eighteen, loved by all, feared by some, the powerful Sankta Alina. Being royalty only added to the pressure and stress of the responsibility. But Nikolai was determined to make sure that she wasn't ever on her own.

The wedding was held at the Palace, with only its residents to attend. The whole hall was decorated with white and gold, radiant candelabras lining the walls, the shimmering chandelier making the light dance off of the stain-glass windows and walls. Pews laced with bouquets of flowers, each guest wearing their best. Zoya braided her hair into a grand style, almost as if she was attempted to show up the bride. Nadia sat next to her, looking giddy as a school girl. Tamar and Tolya stood at attention on either side of the priest, who stood at the altar, next to Nikolai. Nikolai was dressed to match the décor, a white suit with gold trimming and detail. His boots, he made sure to polish until they shone brilliantly, and his gloved hands clasped behind his back.

The fanfare sounded, and Nikolai forced himself to look down the aisle. When he did, his breath hitched in his throat.

Alina stood at the front of the hall, a crown of golden flowers adorned her head, a veil cascading down, shading her face. Her dress was trimmed with jewels, just as Nikolai promised, and the dress's train was held by Genya, who wore a simple deep green dress, her hair pulled her shoulder. Alina's dress had laced sleeves that came to the bottom of her fingers, and came up to her neck, a rose broach in the middle of her neck. Her veil obscured most of her features, but Nikolai could still spy the nervous curve of her lips, turned in a timid smile. He knew she was still not used to the attention that you receive as a queen.

She walked smoothly, powerfully, up to the altar, facing the priest. He murmured a special prayer, touching her head, and Alina turned towards Nikolai. With instruction from the priest, Nikolai lifted her veil with great flourish, though he had never felt more anxious in his life. The first thing he noticed was the flecks of color on her cheeks and nose that she had gotten from all of the time outdoors. He was glad she wasn't wearing enough makeup to cover them up, he liked them.

They joined hands, looking each other in the eye with a sort of way the guests wouldn't recognize, perhaps one they would mistake for loving, or warm, but the true word to use was admiring. Alina looked incandescent, and Nikolai supposed he looked mighty fine himself as well. In fact, he was so taken aback by Alina's grace during the ceremony that he found himself lost in the priest's holy words. They exchanged vows, words of faith, and Nikolai couldn't help but feel a wave of whimsical excitement when he slipped the emerald ring onto her finger.

He had wished his parents had attended the ceremony, but this wasn't the best time for them to come back to the Palace. He knew that Alina had felt insecure about having no father to walk her down the aisle, but they made due.

When it was time, Nikolai cupped Alina's cheek tenderly and pressed his lips to hers. There was applause, and he smiled into the kiss, savoring the moment. When he pulled back, he offered his arm to her, and she took it willingly, suppressing a grin. They went back down the aisle, enjoying the hooting and claps from their loved ones. Even Zoya was smiling.

The couple went to the doors of the hall that led out to the front of the Palace, where the rest of the Ravka was waiting impatiently. He squeezed Alina's arm as the doors slowly opened.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

She nodded nervously. "For anything."

Nothing had prepared them for the roar of the crowd, the screams of their adoring people, arms stretched wide to feel a single touch from their Saint, their King. This was what it was all about. The faith, the hope, which their alliance gave people. It made them feel safe and protected, even if their Second Army was severely depleted. He needed something to keep his people hopeful for the future, to help them sleep at night. That was what was the most important.

They threw rice, flower petals, and blew bubbles, to create an array of celebration. Alina laughed, touching as many hands as she could, kissed a few heads and said a few prayers over the elderly. He could see the look in the peoples' eyes, teary-eyed and brighter than the sun. This was their savior, the Sun Summoner, Sol Koroleva. They put everything they had into her, every last bit of hope they had for their life and safety. He would do everything in his power and more to protect her, he vowed himself.

They decided not to take a honeymoon, to stay in the Palace and make decisions with the Court. "We don't need a vacation," Alina had said.

"You don't need a vacation. You're too important. I, on the other hand, am exhausted from all of this. Do you know how much energy it takes to be stunningly dashing and perfectly poised every hour on the hour?"

Alina hit him, but it was worth the playful smile that reminded him so much of the seventeen-year-old Grisha that he had first met and fallen for.

As the crowd continued to scream and chant their names in perfect unison, he took her hand in his and intertwined their fingers. She looked at him, her pale eyes brimming with tears of nothing short than extravagant jubilation. He loved that look. It fit her face so well.

They kept their pace, somehow making it to the end of the white path, where a chariot awaited them to take the newlyweds to the reception. But right before Nikolai could wave one last time at the adoring crowd, Alina gently took hold of his jaw with the palm of his hand and kissed him. All of the chants melted away with the uncontrollable pounding of the King's heart, and he kept his hand planted on her waist, feeling her quickening pulse as well.

After a few blissful moments, he pulled away and studied her face. A grin split over his face and he laughed. "Was that just for show?"

Alina rolled her eyes. "Just for show."

"Admit it, Starkov. You can't get enough of me."

"Get in the chariot, you ass, before I regret every decision I've made up until this point."