Envenheim 181

The rest of the wedding celebration was exhausting, humiliating, and scarring.

After the ceremony which took place outside the castle, we all headed inside for food and drink, and things got worse.

The prince—or king, as he was now—sat with me at the far end of the spacious dining hall. In front of us were extravagant tables pushed up against opposite walls that stretched from one corner of the room to the other. They were meant to seat hundreds of nobles—or wedding guests as it were.

Paris drank a glass of wine, and then another, and another, and another… I had one, and nearly spat it out because. I had never drunk wine before, and was not accustomed to it.

Before long, everyone in the hall was drunk and they all made crass comments about my sham marriage.

“Does that mean you have to sleep with that thing? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a human and a beast… Together in such a way.” Asked a black-haired man who sat next to Paris.

Paris turned to me and swished his wine around in his glass as he asked in slurred words bitterly. “What do you think? It is a custom.”

Everyone who heard was set to laughing.

Terry, who sat next to me, put a comforting hand over mine as I sunk into my chair and dreaded when we would go to bed together.

“I’ll try to convince him not to.” Terry whispered to me.

Unsurprisingly, I wept. It was all I could do these days.

“Your bride is weeping, Paris! That does not speak well of you! You should kiss her on the lips like you should have done during the ceremony!” The black-haired man suggested.

Everyone around us gasped in terror at the suggestion of actually seeing a human kiss what they thought was a hideous beast. Paris turned to me with foul smelling breath and stared into my eyes as the crowd waited with bated breath.

I looked back and prayed he would not touch me, but the crowd began chanting and slamming their forks and other utensils on their tables.

“Kiss her!”

“Kiss her!”

“Kiss her!”

Paris looked me up and down with glazed eyes.

My head was thumping with fear and anticipation.I plastered myself against my chair in fear.

My hands were sweaty.

Paris leaned in and kissed me while the crowd jeered and made noises of disgust.

Terry pulled me away from him protectively after a moment with a look of contempt on his face for the king and the crowd.

He said to Paris, “this is your bride and you treat her like this…!”

“She is mine. I will treat her how I like and you will let me if you wish to keep your head.” Paris replied.

That sentence made me shiver with apprehension.

The hours ticked by and everyone got drunker and drunker while I stayed miserably sober. Anxiety tore at my black soul as the hour drew near when we would all go to bed. I sweated a cold sweat, I tapped my fingers nervously on the table, and I felt sick in my stomach with apprehension.

Terry eventually noticed me yawning and said to the new king, “your majesty, the queen looks tired. Do you mind if I escort her to bed?”

Paris shook his head, but the whole crowd of drunkards heard him and goaded the king to go with me.

Thankfully, he said he wanted to stay up a little longer and Terry led me away from the hours upon hours of public ridicule that was my wedding celebration.

Paris told me our quarters were on the third floor of the castle through the large double-doors, and I relayed those instructions to Terry.

He led me there, and I fell to my knees when I saw our king-sized bed and I sobbed uncontrollably as my nightmare became realer and realer. Terry knelt down and let me hug him for comfort. “I don’t wish to be…”

“I shall convince him that you aren’t ready…” It was an empty promise, but his kindness was appreciated as always.

“I am nothing but a joke to them! This marriage is spat upon and people only came to see it to disgust themselves…” I cried with a wobbly voice.

Terry helped me up and rolled the blankets back for me. “You just crawl in, Prin— my Queen and I’ll tuck you in.”

I obeyed and lay on my side, clutching my pillow for comfort. I held Terry’s hand for a moment and told him, “you never had to call me princess, you know. You can just call me Mimi. You’re my friend…”

Terry patted my hand. “I was being respectful to you because I am fond of you.”

I forced a smile and sniffled at that. “You’re so kind …”

“Go to sleep now and let me handle the rest.” Terry suggested. “Caerwyn will have my head should anything befall you!”

Terry doused the torchlights in the bedroom and stood outside the door as I dosed for a bit.