Free Web NovelChapter 41: Chapter 41
The night of the first wedding.
The fire of Marzen burned hotter that night, hotter than any of the other times Ragnar had stood in front of it. The flames rose in a shower of sparks as the elder priest chanted in their native tongue. This was usually a good sign. It meant that the flames recognized the strength of the vow being made and was trying to match its intensity.
As the elder droned on beside him, Ragnar barely heard anything that was being said. His eyes and entire focus was on the woman in front of him. His best friend, his love. His Luria. And in only a few minutes, she was going to be his wife. freeweɓnovel.cѳm
He hadn’t been able to look away from her, not from the moment she entered the vast, cavernous chambers with her hand delicately resting in the crook of her mother’s arm. There was a lightness to her steps, a grace that made it seem as though she wasn’t walking at all but gliding effortlessly across to where he waited for her on the raised dais. Every movement she made held a quiet poise, an elegance that seemed untouched by time or the tension lingering in the room.
Ragnar’s heart pounded against his chest, a heavy and deafening ringing that only grew louder with every step she took in his direction. His throat tightened, and for a moment, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had seen Luria angry, frustrated, laughing, crying. He had seen her in every shade of emotion and across all the years they had known each other she had always been beautiful. Even as kids, her beauty had always left him stunned and floundering for words. But now... Now she looked ethereal.
The soft glow from the chandeliers above caught in the strands of her hair and traced the delicate lines of her face, casting her in a light that made her seem almost unreal. Words failed him. No language he knew could capture what he was seeing, this version of her.
Luria cut a stunning figure in a long, elaborate gown that trailed behind on the floor as she moved. It had a deep maroon outer layer that gathered at the waist with silver embroidered detailing. The inner layer was a soft ivory fabric that flowed to the floor, also decorated with subtle silver embroidery. The bodice was fitted with three-quarter sleeves and an asymmetrical neckline. It made her look regal, like a princess. Like a queen.
The flames shone in her warm brown eyes as the elder officiated their union. She smiled when he took her hand in his, interlocking their fingers, staring into his eyes. He hoped she saw the adoration he felt for her reflected back at her.
After that first touch, he couldn’t resist the temptation of going for more. He knew he couldn’t touch her the way he truly wanted here, not in front of the king and queen and everyone else present so he stole little touches here and there. A graze of his hand down her arm, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on her exposed wrist, his hand resting on her lap beneath the table as they partook in the feast that came afterwards.
Goblets of wine flowed freely around the banquet table as the evening wore on, until most were either deep in their cups or already slightly swaying on their feet. It was getting late and Ragnar was already beginning to slur his words. He stood and helped Luria to her feet. She leaned against him, giggling as they both stumbled their way to his bed chambers.
Her lips were on his the moment he shut the doors behind him. The kiss was hungry and passionate, filled with so much longing and pent up excitement, it almost knocked him off his feet. He wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer, deepening the kiss further. He wanted to etch this moment in his brain, the way she felt in his arms, the softness of her lips against his. He wanted to bottle it up and tuck it away somewhere safe where no one could find it and muddle it.
It didn’t feel real, surely it was something his overactive imagination conjured up. Luria couldn’t really be there like this with him, looking so perfect. When their lips parted, she was still there, still real. His wife.
She was smiling up at him. Her fingers traced up the side of his face, so close to where his scar was. He had gotten it only three days ago. An enemy’s blade had cut a line down his face in an ambush attack and it still hadn’t fully healed. It made him feel disfigured to the point that he couldn’t bear to stare at himself in the mirror. It made him feel insecure, like the scar was yet another tick against him.
He angled his head to the side, trying to hide the scarred portion of his face but she stopped him from doing so by cupping his face in both hands. The pads of her fingers gently moved over the raised scar. Her eyes were brimming with a tender sort of affection.
" You are the most beautiful man I have ever met." She said, her smile widening. " And you’re all mine."
A warm flush rose up his neck, up to the tips of his ears. He swept her into his arms without warning and she squealed in delight. He walked her to the bed and laid her down gently.
She was still smiling up at him like he hung the stars, like he made her happy just by existing next to her. He crawled into the bed, caging her between his body and the mattress beneath her. A loud noise sounded from outside the room just as his lips met hers once more. It was an incessant banging against one of the windows. They both paused.
" What was that?" She whispered.
" I don’t know." Ragnar heaved his body off her and climbed off the bed to check what was causing that noise. Just as he reached the window where the sound was coming from, the balcony door flunged open and two men charged inside. They were a blur of dark fabric with how fast they moved.
