NOT WITHOUT SURPRISES

I am not a queen because I rule. I rule because I am THE QUEEN.

Birthed in my heart, alive in my veins…

*****************

Zorgan was not disappointed when Nadezhda walked into the stable dressed as a stable boy.

In truth, he had been expecting her for a while. After all, it was their wedding day.

He found it humorous when her father had undoubtedly specified that she was going to be present for the wedding. Even with his fame and knowledge, the King of Isoloth could not foresee that this daughter of his was not easily overwhelmed by threats.

Nadezhda was undoing the knot that fastened a black-and-rich brown horse in place when Zorgan voiced from behind her.

“You should be proceeding down the aisle at the moment’’. Severely startled, coupled with the anxiousness about what she was about to do, Nadezhda swung around.

Zorgan was in the middle of the stable, a considerable distance from her, and she let out a frustrated breath upon seeing him.

“And you should be stationed at the altar, patiently awaiting my arrival’’ She quipped.

He smiled.

‘That odious grin of his!

Heavens, what does this two-legged demon, want from me? I can’t believe he decided to show that snooty face of his.

He knew I would choose to leave when everyone was gathered, and he also knew I wouldn’t go without a commuting option.

He must be feeling like a master tactician in deciphering my plot.

Except I don’t still plan on doing his bidding’

“I did not come here to engage in combat nor to bring you back with me. And before you attempt to make a witty retort, hear my words.’’ Zorgan said, and Nadezdha’s already parted lips fell silent.

‘‘I require a wife to divert the gaze of the King of Valcresh from my affairs, one who will demand no obligations from me.

My life is bound to the battlefield and that is where I find true safety. I have no desire to build a home with another.

And you my Rebel, require someone to lift the death sentence placed upon you when you offended the Southern Royals. Someone who has no interest in questioning how you live and whose influence will free you from the world’s judgement.

Boasting with intent, I am that man-”

Nadezhda shifted her gaze upward in disbelief. ‘Will he ever stop seeking moments to exalt himself?’

“If by some fortune, you escape this place, you shall be pursued until the end of your days, living as a hunted fugitive.

But if you ponder my suggestion… I presume you already know the answer.

What shall it be then?’’

The slow but laboured rise and fall of her chest was obvious, a sign of the warring emotions within her. She took a step closer after a defining moment, “And why should I believe you?’’

Zorgan let out a soft breath before he began to approach her with steady steps. Nadezhda couldn’t help but notice that this was the first time Zorgan had no trace of a mischievous grin on- not a simpering one or a curved lip. And that was rare because the man always looked like he ruled the world and had no worry whatsoever. He was never without a smile.

He looked more like he was walking into one of those tense treaty arrangements between the realms of the North and South.

She straightened her stand when he got to her.

‘‘I am many things... but dishonest Nadezhda of Isoloth. And if the future doesn’t match my words this day, I believe fleeing is not a feat you are far from-”

Zorgan crossed his hands behind him and pressed forward into her space. His deep-set black orbs engaged her grey ones. It was like he knew one of the small questions that was still very alive in her head.

“You are beautiful Rebel, but you are not my kind of woman. Nothing about you pulls me in that way and I will not have you do anything you wouldn’t’ will to. Remember this!’’

Their eyes stayed locked for a persevered moment before he erected his stance and walked out of the stable, leaving a frigid Nadezhda. The glacier feeling was not caused by fear or by the climatic condition but by the undeniable intuition of honesty and clarity that had somehow been conveyed.

Some might have preferred warmth, but she embraced the shiver. His words had stung but only for a second because this was what she had always wanted. This was what she needed to hear.

*************

If Isoloth had tried to send a half-baked appeal on her behalf, more days might have been bought for her, and today might be the day she was dragged to the gallows.

But the only thing that was seen being dragged was the length of her veil and gown – an exquisite creation of an ornated soft satin, corset-style bodice with a series of eyelets along its spine. In a regal flare was the voluminous skirt with a crinoline beneath the gently crafted embroidery of satin. The veil, longer than the length of the gown, was a sheer tulle, with an airy texture and tiny beadings to its edge.

Even her family admitted to the unheard parts of themselves that devastatingly mulish Nadezhda was looking ethereal and resplendent.

Dressed in an extremely perfected tailored coat and matching slacks, Zorgan sneaked a peek at his unplanned wife when she was two steps to the finish of the stairs.

From behind the veil, Nadezhda looked at the most uncertain person she had ever met. Their eyes met as her foot made contact with the last stair tread and her shoe ate into the fabric of her gown, pulling her forward.

Briskly, Zorgan stretched to steady her but she kicked her stamina in place and held herself before he could touch her.

The audience thought the groom had saved his bride from planting her face on the floor, but those on the platform knew Zorgan’s hands had not reached Nadezhda.

Many had a lot of questions for various reasons.

Their gathering in the Grand Castle had only been because of the event and it was rare for anyone to get married during this period. Especially when the union was not orchestrated by a political necessity or those involved have never shown any form of attraction for one another before the moment.

The most confused of the Royals was a Princess of Eryndor because she had been present when Nadezdha had implied her great disdain for Zorgan in that sixth room.

Nadezhda took her stand before Zorgan, and the priest was signaled to commence.

The day was wearying Zorgan and coupled with Nadezhda’s disposition, he was beginning to pine for a strategic fortress than the wedding hall. He sent a look to the priest who immediately decided to address the couple, neglecting other segments.

‘‘Will you Prince Commander Zorgan of Valcresh, bind yourself to Princess Nadezhda of Isoloth, in love and faith, for all the years of your existence?’’

‘‘More than anything else’’ Zorgan replied with a smile. Nadezhda knew he was back to his usual self, and she bit the inner walls of her cheek. She wished he could be half as intentional as she was about this moment but she knew she could only wish.

“Will you Princess Nadezhda of Isoloth, bind yourself to Prince Commander Zorgan of Valcresh, in love and faith, for all the years of your existence?’’ The priest asked.

Her lips parted heavily, “Yes- yes I do”

A box containing gold wristbands was brought forward and engraved on the wristbands were ancient symbols mirroring unending love.

The couple clasped it around each other’s wrists, and the priest chimed with a gleam, ‘‘Now let a kiss be the beginning of this promised union.’’

Zorgan lifted her veil and surprisingly, her eyes weren’t judging.

‘‘I’ll make it quick-” Zorgan began, but he could not proceed because Nadezhda looped her arms around his neck and brought him to her lips. With shocked wide eyes, warm breath separated the great Commander’s lips and had him perplexingly disoriented.

Her soft lips took him in a mildly moist caress; it traced the lines of his upper lip and lightly graced both corners of his mouth. By the moment Zorgan was picking understanding from this Princess who is supposed to be a tenderfoot, Nadezhda pulled away.

She evaded his eyes as her heart hammered.

It was her first kiss and she would have been damned if she couldn’t regulate what he would do to one of her most valuable body parts.

“We do not want the whole of the South discussing how forged this marriage is, do we?’’ She asked in a low voice as she turned to the clapping audience with a tight smile on. One of her hands held onto Zorgan’s elbow as she used the other hand to wave at the crowd.

Her question was an exposition on the reason she allowed it to linger beyond the very chaste peck he might have expected. He had not been expecting that and neither had he been expecting her to set the stage for the kiss.

‘‘Yes, we do not,’’ Zorgan replied in a gruff voice, another solid second later. He could not believe what just happened.

But as he joined her to wave at the clapping crowd and to wear a glee-filled expression, he deduced something narrow.

‘This union might be loveless but it indisputably won’t be without surprises’