“My prince, I wanted to say that I’m so very happy that we are bringing peace between our kingdoms through this marriage,” Ciana said.
Wesley nodded. “As am I, my lady.” He spoke politely, but only what he felt was expected of him. “We waged war for many, unnecessarily long years, over scraps of land and shreds of honour. The border conflicts were misguided, from both sides, so I am glad that both sides have now seen the light.”
Ciana grinned before speaking unsurely, “I must say, I n-never thought I’d marry a prince as handsome as-”
“Look, Ciana,” Wesley said, taking her hand and leaning in to make sure nobody around them heard their conversation. He would not keep the charade going. “I want you to know I had nothing to do with this wedding. You seem lovely, but-”
“My prince, do not worry. I am prepared to do my wifely duties. Throughout our marriage, and tonight of course.”
“No,” Wesley snapped, shaking his head vigorously. “I do not want that.”
“I have prepared-”
“No, I will not do it.”
“But we must, my prince. For our kingdoms. It is tradition to bed on the wedding night in both our cultures, is it not?”
“Fuck tradition, I will not bed a child.” It was all he could come up with to shut her up.
Ciana sat in disbelief with teary eyes over Wesley’s sudden snap. She stood up and marched away from the table in tears, her handmaidens following her like chicks to a mother hen.
Wesley rested his face in his hands, frustrated. Moon Mother, let this night end.
All he wanted to do was run away and hide. But where would he go? Who could he turn to? Wesley was trapped. He could not disappoint his father and bring shame upon the family name, but how could he force happiness in such a dire situation?
Ciana had fled to her mother’s side. He could not hear their words, but Queen Sirillia had clearly noticed her daughter’s tears and attempted to comfort her with an embrace.
Sirillia’s gaze shifted to Wesley and then back to Ciana. She spoke some words in Ciana’s ear with a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder.
What was Sirillia saying to her? Was she speaking ill of Wesley?
Wesley felt incredibly uncomfortable. His formal attire was itching him, the seat cushion was lumpy, and he could feel many pairs of judging eyes upon him, evaluating him.
The doors to the feast hall opened with a groan across the way.
And then Wesley saw her.
Jodie Blacktree.
Wesley had met her back when she was Jodie Mannering when both were just children. She had made his insides ache from the very first day he ever laid eyes on her.
Just like that, all his thoughts seemed to drip from his body like a melting candle.
Jodie stepped into the feast hall through the main doors wearing a silver laced gown and shining jewellery, her arm interlocked with her husband’s, Ciana’s older brother, Petir.
Petir Blacktree was wearing a dark hose jacket and trousers, his hair slicked back, with a pompous face that was asking to be punched.
Wesley had never much cared for Petir Blacktree. The man worried a little too much about his appearance, just as his father did. He had a straight posture and high chin, as if to always be looking down on others.
Jodie, however, glowed like moonlight. Her onyx hair was tied behind her head, held together firmly with two long hair pins. Not a traditional style, yet stunning, nonetheless.
The couple were greeted by noble lords and family members as they walked in. Jodie gave a hug to her cousin and closest living relative, King Justen Mannering as soon as she spotted him.
All the while, Wesley couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful Jodie. He had been longing to see her, but he felt his stomach twist as soon as he had. It had been so long. Years, in fact.
Ciana promptly returned to her chair having wiped her face and readjusted her headdress. She seemed genuinely excited to receive her brother and sister-by-law.
Petir and Jodie made their way through the crowd, reaching the newly married couple. Petir bowed and Jodie curtseyed with smiles all around.
“I always knew you’d make a stunning bride. Look at you!” Petir exclaimed with raised eyebrows. “Don’t I have the most beautiful sister in the world?”
Ciana’s cheeks went red as she attempted to hold back a smile.
“You sure do,” Jodie said. “You look beautiful, sister. Apologies for the late arrival. Our carriage lost a wheel on the road to Andervale.”
“Not a problem at all. We are glad you could make it to the reception,” Wesley said.
“It’s so good to see you both,” Ciana said gleefully. “Jodie, you look amazing. You must introduce me to your dressmaker in Dawnhill. The stitching on that dress, it’s divine!”
“Actually, this gown is from home. I had it made in Stonebridge and delivered especially for tonight,” Jodie responded, stroking the fabric.
She had always been proud of her Midland heritage, ever since she was a small girl. She might have been a Blacktree, but ‘Jodie Mannering’ would never cease to exist within her.
Wesley had always loved that about Jodie. He couldn’t help but gawk at her beauty.
“Congratulations, Wesley,” Petir said, shaking the prince’s hand. “You’re a very lucky man, I hope you know.”
“I sure am.” Wesley’s gaze remained on Jodie.
“I dare say, this wedding is almost as big as our own,” Petir boasted, looking at his wife. “Almost. It’s a shame your family does not have a larger feast hall, like ours in Alderhall. You could have held a much larger reception!”
Ciana awkwardly smiled at her brother’s comment. Wesley, however, was not as amused. He could tell
