1 Not Her Dress

Yavanna stared at her reflection in the mirror, swaying her hips every so often to watch the gold silk twirl attractively.

A sigh escaped her lips as her thoughts left her reflection.

"Five minutes, your highness." A voice called through the door.

"Five minutes." She echoed quietly.

Her hands began reworking her hair and tugging the dress and smoothing it in other areas. It did not quite fit.

"No one will know it's you…" Her mother's words echoed through her mind.

"He's never even seen her… just act the part and all will go well." Her father drilled into her.

Another dismal sigh left her lips as she watched her rather emotionless eyes in the mirror.

It was not that she'd never wanted to get married, but she'd just expected it to be different. And yet here she was. She lowered the veil and breathed out a slow breath.

She exited the bride's chamber and her father met her outside the doors that led to the sanctuary, where the wedding ceremony was to take place.

"You look gorgeous." He said as he took her arm in his.

She smiled softly. She jumped when the doors opened and she heard music begin to play on a piano.

She walked down the aisle, her cheeks straining to maintain a flawless smile. Her mind wandered to that morning, "Your sister has committed a scandal to the kingdom. She can no longer marry."

"So, tell her betrothed." She'd replied.

"It would be a disgrace. We must protect the name of our family." Her father's voice boomed over the small study.

"But.. why not be honest?"

Her voice was drowned out by her mother's, "Yavanna can do it."

"What do you mean?"

"Yavanna can take her sister's place." Her mother repeated and Yavanna's jaw fell open. "The king has never seen either of them. This is simply a marriage to cease the war between our two kingdoms. He may have been promised the first princess, but she is a scandalous girl. Yavanna is a better fit and you know it."

Her father, the king of Viland, seemed to debate this, "Tell the courtiers, the ones we trust. The others, simply bribe them to keep their mouths shut."

Yavanna stood there, her mouth still open. Her older sister had been preparing for this wedding for years, it had been proposed after the many years of war between Viland and Nothad. The king of Nothad was young and had not yet wed—for reasons Yvanna did not know.

Her older sister, the first princess, Princess Mirella was known to be scandalous, but also known for her cunning and beauty. Yvanna was not well-known by the outside world, but her own people knew her well; she enjoyed visiting them in the market and at the fairs and tournaments.

She was brought from her thoughts to the present by a touch to her hand. She had surpassed the length of the sanctuary and was now standing before the altar, where the priest was waiting in his elaborate robes.

Her eyes darted back to the hand that had touched hers and her eyes slowly trailed up the arm that was covered with gold and blue fabric and finally up to the face.

She turned her head and looked forward. She'd only caught a glimpse of his face; striking blue eyes and dirty blond hair atop a smooth face with chiselled features, but butterflies erupted in her stomach. It was either from the dashing king that stood next to her, the one whom she was marrying in the next instant. Or the fact that every eye of the nobility of Viland was watching her.

The king of Nothad grabbed her hand and she flinched at his cold touch. She hoped he wouldn't notice how clammy hers were, though he probably would.

The priest raised his hands and everyone in the sanctuary sat in their seat.

"We are assembled here today to join the King of Nothad with the First Princess of Viland to represent a unity between our two kingdoms." He announced in a nasally voice that somehow managed to stretch across the expanse of the sanctuary.

Probably a sort of magic, Yvanna guessed.

The king of Nothad turned to face her and she followed suit. Taking hold of her left hand she made the mistake of meeting his eyes. She quickly looked back down and stared at his gold suit that fit closely to his body and breathed out a slow breath.

She couldn't pay attention to the priest's words as he prattled on about destiny and great powers and how this marriage was a blessing.

She started upon hearing her sister's name, "Princess Mirella Vandeleur, do you take King Amory Querencia to be your husband?"

She swallowed and nodded, her face felt hot, as though her lie was burning her from the inside out, "I do."

Her voice was amplified, likely by that cursed magic, and she tensed.

"And do you, King Amory Querencia, take Princess Mirella Vandeleur as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

She tensed further at his voice; smooth and rich. Like molten lava rolling down a mountainside.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. May the spirits bless your union."

The king squeezed her hand as they turned to face the crowd. They cheered and she forced a smile onto her face.

Walking out of the grand building she was surprised by rose petals falling on her. She blinked a few times before she looked up and smiled at the array of rosy colours.

She was pulled down the red carpet in a hurry. She smiled and waved at the townspeople as they threw rose petals at her happily. Some of them may have known her identity, but in the chaos of the wedding and with the veil, they likely did not recognize her. The cheers and shouts were near deafening and she covered her one ear discreetly as she continued smiling.

She was hoisted into a white carriage and turned in her seat to find the king mounting it after her and sitting beside her. She stiffened and faced forward.

She sent a silent prayer to the spirits, for what? She wasn't sure. She didn't know much about the young king, he had never wed and therefore had had no heirs. He was said to be a good warrior but was not known for his battle skills. She'd heard once that he was a madman, but that was from her little brother so she'd logged the information away as false. Besides, the man did not appear mad. He seemed rather tame and collected.

She stretched her cheeks and jaw a few times in preparation for more smiling. She knew there was the feast and the receiving of gifts. Then the wedding night. She desperately hoped the king would do the traditional thing and wait to consummate his marriage in his own kingdom. It was considered good luck to do so. But… who knew what he would do?

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Hi there! Thank you for reading this book. This is my first attempt at this style and genre, so I hope it goes well. This is also my first time entering a competition of any sort on Webnovel, so your support would be lovely.