Having lost the man she loved to the cold clutches of suicide, Amara's impulsive decision to join him leads her to accept the marriage proposal of a mysterious stranger she shares a drink with at a bar.
Xelan's weddings were an awful affair, with ea...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
***
They say a woman's happiest moment was her wedding day. Such was true in the case of Miranda Talbot, the bride of the firstborn son of the Calthorpe family. The manor had been in great joy and merriment that beautiful twilight evening, hurried last-minute preparations being made by the workers of the property.
Unavoidable rumours spread through loose lips of those who stayed idle to anyone who wished to listen. This would only be a convenient marriage, made to prevent the punishment of the Dalis over the unspeakable event of late. But even the tasteless gossips could not deny, at least, this would be a wonderful marriage, regardless of the reason behind its inception.
The bride herself sat by dressing mirror in the room that would soon belong to her and her new groom. She put on her favoured necklace, a gift from her love on the eve of her engagement, playing deaf to the malicious words being spread just outside her window.
There was a soft sharp knock once then twice on the large double doors before they opened to reveal the groom, a slick smile on his thin charming face. The bride gasped, trying to shield herself from his snooping stare.
"Xelan! You should not be here. It's bad luck for the bride to be seen by the groom before the wedding!" she chided. The young man refused to be daunted, grabbing at her hand to pull her to him.
"I saw you plenty last night," he whispered, tilting the crown that was attached to her veil to become lopsided. "Besides, it isn't like you to care about such superstitions."
She pushed him away, gathering up her train in one hand and sat down in front of the ornate half view mirror. "You of all people should never doubt the wonders that take place in Sythmore. Besides, I need to get ready and I know all you plan on doing is distracting me," she accused with a pout, fixing her veil. He gasped in mock hurt.
"I could never be capable of such a thing," he replied, twirling a lock of her golden waist-length hair with a finger. Then his countenance turned serious.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this? I know marriage hasn't been something that crossed your mind."
She smiled slightly, her hand lingering on the silver brooch on the dressing table. "I do. I am happy to be your bride."
He knelt to be on the same eye level as her. "But I wouldn't have wished for it to be under these circumstances. It makes it seem..." he began but she placed two fingers on his lips, hushing him.
"Seem as if nothing. Seeing you almost slip away was enough to make me realise how much I need you by my side. Once the Dalis are silenced with our first child, you can renew our vows if you still think this was rushed. For now, let's enjoy this magical moment."
She placed a hand on the left side of his chest, feeling the horrid circular scar through his wedding suit, a reminder of the dark day it had all happened. The day his amber eyes turned dead.
