The Cursed Kingdom

TWENTY-EIGHT

~ THE CORENTANZ ~

"I must warn you," Henrik said while we stood in the center of the hallway, our hands adjoined. A smile played along his lips, which appeared fuller than they had before now that his face was freshly shaven and there were no dark hairs to shadow them. Although I typically disliked facial hair, Henrik wore his well and always kept it nicely trimmed so that the edges were always sharp with not a single hair on his neck. I found myself slightly missing it, but with or without facial hair, he was still the most beautiful male I'd ever seen—scars, tattoos, crown, and all. "I constructed a small wedding-slash-coronation present for you."

"What?" I began to protest with a shake of my head. "Henrik, no. I didn't get you anything."

"Raena, I can assure you that you've given me everything I could have ever asked for." He lifted my hands to his lips, kissing both my knuckles while he stared deep into my eyes, and then was quick to kiss my cheeks as well, which felt like they had hot embers placed on top of them.

His kisses had been untamable since we left the temple. My mark still tingled with a slight ache from the heated display of affection he'd given me in the carriage, every nip and trail of his lips along my neck a promise of what was to come later that very night.

I shuddered at the thought.

Just as I was about to speak, the door swung open and our heads rotated in sync to look at the guard that cautiously peeked his head in, as if he was expecting to see something quite unpleasant. But he relaxed once he saw us just standing there, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Your Majesties, they're ready for you," he spoke in a whisper, his eyes noticeably running over my dress but not in a strange or perverted way. Pure admiration of Mary's work showed on his face, his eyebrows raised and the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile.

Now that my train and veil were gone, the pattern of the lace was more visible as well as my hair that Ingrid, the only person who I trusted with my hair anymore, had twisted into a beautiful loose bun with strands placed in all the right places. The style allowed for my crown to remain comfortably on my head and my hair to frame my face nicely at the same time.

"Are you ready, my love?" Henrik asked, the coolness of his wedding band suddenly biting against my palm and reminding me yet again of what we had just done.

No longer was I holding hands with just the Cursed King but my husband, my mate, my Henrik—my king. No matter what was to come, whether it be good or bad, we would forever be bonded to each other and the thought of that did not scare or frustrate me like I'd expected it to. Like my mind told me it should've. But I was sick of my emotions following the beliefs set by others, like some sort of well-trained dog.

For once, I wanted to feel something out of the simplicity that I desired to feel it.

I wanted to be free.

"I don't know," I said with a smile. However, my true anxiousness came out in the shakiness of my voice and I cursed at it, wishing it to finally go away. "Are you?" It was a pathetic way of me trying to stall. But I couldn't help myself from wanting to spend more time with him, even if it was in a secluded and dimly lit hallway right outside the ballroom that was covered with the ugliest yellow wallpaper I'd ever seen.

"So long as I have you by my side," Henrik replied, his serious tone and eyes taking me by surprise.

My eyebrows lifted, my heart aching with guilt as I recalled all the times I'd thought of leaving, the last time having been just that morning when the servants had first knocked on my door to announce my breakfast was ready. But that was my fear talking, not truly me. I couldn't deny the thought was still there though, like a stubborn parasite feasting at my mind.