The War of Queens

Chapter 72

Mary

 Philip and Mary were forced to move their wedding when Elizabeth and Eric decided to marry. No large marriage could happen just before the royal one, of course, that would only distract the attention of the people.

 Mary did not mind. She was surprised that she did not share her betrothed’s anger when the news arrived, but if she was honest, she reveled a bit in it. It meant that the wedding night was moved a little further into the future - not that she did not look forward to it. She dreamed of it. Those dreams were enough to doom her in the eyes of the gods. But still, she feared it a little. Would it hurt like it had, when the drug had numbed her limbs but not her emotions?

 The royal wedding was as glorified as spectacular as it was ostentatious. The feast was held within the Great Hall, which, on that day, seemed to shimmer with gold. Everyone had spent fortunes on their clothing for the occasion, meaning they had less of a fortune to dress for Mary’s.

 The rumors said that every inn and tavern was filled, that people practically slept on the streets of the capital, in order to see the King and Queen join hands and greet the people on the steps of Westhall, together, for the first time.

 Mary stood on the balcony above on that day and looked down. It did not seem like such a big crowd to her. It did not fill out the streets around the square like it had when her mother’s statue was shown. At one point, Elizabeth looked up at her and it struck her that, since that day, their roles had been upturned.

 Both she and Philip retired from the feast early. He walked with her to her chambers. She knew by now that she could trust him, even when they were alone; that he would not harm her or move further than she let him.

 "To think that we could have been married by now,” he said, with more wonder than bitterness, and stroked some hair behind her ear.

 She took the hand that was still by his side. “Soon, my love.”

 His hand held the side of her face a little more firmly as he leaned down to kiss her. “I cannot wait,” he muttered against her lips.

 She pulled away, smiling wryly. “Perhaps then I can get a proper night’s sleep, without being haunted by dreams of you.”

 He kissed her again. “Not if I get a say in it,” he replied, nipping at her bottom lip. “Though it won’t be dreams haunting you.”

 She felt a familiar warmth in her lower abdomen. It spurred her to stand closer to him, to hold on to him more firmly. Her hands were around his neck now, his on her waist, then the coldness of the wall against her back.

 “Someone might see,” she gasped.

 His lips moved to her neck. It took a moment for him to respond. “I’m sure they’re whispering worse things about us than this by now.”

 She let herself enjoy the sensation of his lips, his tongue on her neck and around her ears for a moment longer before pushing him away. “Still,” she said, giving him a chaste kiss.

 He smiled. “In just three days we’ll be married, and we won’t have to worry about what people are saying anymore.”

 Though the prospect filled her with joy, she felt the blood leave her face.

 Seeing this, Philip caressed her face. “Of course, that does not mean I wouldn’t still wait for another year if that’s how long it takes for you to be ready.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “I’d wait an eternity for you.”

 She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have to wait.”

 “Perhaps I should.” He kissed her one last time. “Goodnight, my darling.”