The Nechi's Wife

✣ chapter one ✣

"Do you, Ayan, Princess of Mereti, take Flynd, Prince of Arania, to be your husband?"

I swallowed nervously, my heart beating wildly in my ribcage. I had to say "yes" but my whole body begged me to say "no". Prince Flynd, whom I had just met now, had plastered a fake smile on his face and was using his eyes to communicate. "Just say yes" they told me. "I-I do. Of course."

The priest let out a relieved breath. "Wonderful, and..."

As he droned on, my eyes wandered about the room. The wedding had been decorated in what I had been told was traditional Aranian style. Sleek, marble pillars bore from the ground and held up our enclosing. And dashes of deep red and navy-blue banners had been hung, like streaks of paint above our heads.

Even I had been dressed in traditional Aranian clothing: a white gown that flowed past my feet and spilled across the floor. I had been told it was white to represent "purity" which I figured was daft. Why would you wear such a bland color on your wedding day when it was supposed to be festive and celebratory? However, in fairness, this was simultaneously the most boring as well as the most horrific day of my life—far from jovial.

Perhaps a white dress was fitting.

"...you may now kiss the bride." The priest finished.

I stopped myself from visibly frowning. Oh, the dreaded kiss. Prince Flynd either seemed to sense my discomfort or he was also uncomfortable and leaned forward very slowly. After pressing his lips against my right cheek, he kissed my left. The crowd erupted in applause.

After the ceremony had finally concluded, we were whisked to the Dining Hall where the wedding festivities would be held. Even though I was seated beside Prince Flynd the entire time, we rarely spoke a word to one another.

When we'd finished eating a dry and tasteless Aranian meal, we were given the freedom to filter amongst ourselves. While some of the guests mingled with one another in close-knit groups scattered about the Hall, other pairs took to the dance floor where they moved to the soft music playing in the background.

I sifted through the crowd, mostly being greeted by Nechi people rather than me greeting them first. I was in no mood to be friendly with these people who would shake my hand in traditional Aranian custom and then forget my face by the next day. I craned my neck to scan the Hall in search of Mother and Father who I hoped could provide me some sort of comfort.

"Ayan," A woman's voice called lightly in front of me.

"Mother?" When I was certain it was Mother, I went to hug her. "I'm so glad you're here."

She pushed me away gently. "This is the last time I will see you, for a long time."

"Surely I can visit?" I pleaded. "Or you can visit me?"

"You're married now, Ayan. Your duty is no longer to be a devoted daughter. It is wife. And soon it will be mother."

At her words, I felt an uncontrollable amalgamation of rage and grief bubble in my chest. "I didn't want this."

Sorrow pooled in her dark brown eyes. Eyes that I had inherited from her. "This is for your kingdom. Without this marriage we would never be secure in knowing whether," She lowered her voice. "Whether we could trust the Nechis."

I didn't want to hear the same speech again. I didn't care about logic, I wanted something to ease the anxiety in my heart. "Where is Father?"

"He's speaking to the King of Arania. Your husband's father."

My husband's father. The father of my husband.

My gaze slowly fell away from her concerned face and to the floor. My husband. "I hope he divorces me."

"What?" Mother asked, grabbing my shoulders to force eye contact. "What did you say?"

"Don't you understand? I don't want to be married! How many times must I say it?"

"Lower your voice!" She hissed. "How could you say something like that?"

Unwilling to look into her disappointed eyes any longer, I rushed away.