Darian
The dawn crept slowly over Valmora, gilding the towering pines with threads of amber and gold. Today was a day of reckoning — the day I would finally welcome the woman who had become more than a mere political alliance. The queen, though she had yet to set foot within these walls, already carried the weight of this savage kingdom's future.
I had cleared my schedule, dismissing advisors and council alike. Nothing was to interrupt this moment. In the private chambers, my formal attire awaited — a garment of black velvet embroidered with silver thread that traced the emblem of the black stag across my broad chest and down my sleeves. The scar beneath the fabric was a silent testament to battles past, but today, it was the crown that bore my soul.
The palace hummed with meticulous preparation. Servants flitted like shadows, adjusting tapestries, polishing silver, and arranging the great hall for the feast to come. Aromas of roasted game, fresh herbs, and spiced wine drifted through the corridors, promising a celebration both fierce and refined.
Word had already spread through the kingdom, and I could sense the stirrings of anticipation in every corner — the hunters pausing mid-stride, the smiths hammering a bit slower, and the children peering curiously toward the castle gates.
As midday approached, the courtyard filled with nobles, warriors, and villagers alike, their garments a tapestry of forest greens, deep blues, and the gleaming silver of our sigil. They murmured eagerly, eyes fixed on the road that wound through the ancient forest — the path by which my queen would arrive.
The trumpets sounded, their clear, clarion notes slicing through the morning air. A hush fell over the crowd as the carriage appeared, its polished wood gleaming beneath the sunlight, draped with the emblem of Selandra — a delicate contrast to Valmora's rugged grandeur.
I descended the steps, my cloak billowing behind me as I moved toward the carriage. Servants and guards parted, leaving a clear path. The weight of all eyes pressed upon me, but my focus was singular.
With a measured breath, I reached the carriage door and pulled it open, revealing her — Lady Elowen Ashbourne — poised with an elegance that seemed to defy the wild land we stood upon. Her sapphire gown shimmered softly, the delicate embroidery catching the light as she stepped forward.
Her eyes met mine, steady and unflinching, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of us amid the sea of expectant faces.
"Welcome to Valmora, my queen," I said, offering my arm.
She placed her hand lightly upon it, the touch both tentative and resolute.
Together, we stepped from the carriage, the gravel crunching beneath our feet. Around us, the crowd bowed deeply, heads lowered in respect to their sovereign and his bride. The rustle of silk and leather mingled with whispered praises and the low murmur of approval.
The path to the castle was lined with torchbearers, their flames flickering like stars caught between earth and sky. We walked side by side, the weight of tradition and expectation weaving around us like an unseen mantle.
Upon reaching the grand entrance, I paused briefly to allow the doors to be thrown open, revealing the vast interior where banners fluttered and the scent of freshly cut timber mingled with polished stone.
Ascending the broad staircase, we moved toward the great balcony that overlooked the courtyard below — a place where kings had long proclaimed decrees and where my ancestors had welcomed both allies and challengers.
I gestured for her to step beside me, and as she did, I raised my hand to silence the crowd.
"My people," I began, my voice carrying strong and clear, "today marks the beginning of a new chapter in Valmora's story."
I turned slightly, nodding toward Elowen. "Before you stands your queen — Lady Elowen Ashbourne — who has journeyed far from the lands of Selandra to stand beside me as partner, consort, and sovereign."
A murmur rippled through the assembly, rising like a tide as many voices called out their welcome.
"She shall share in the burdens and glories of this kingdom," I continued, "and together, we shall ensure that Valmora's wild heart beats strong for generations to come."
The banners above fluttered once more as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the sound echoing through the mountains like thunder.
Elowen's hand found mine briefly, a quiet anchor amid the storm of ceremony.
As the sun climbed higher, casting a warm glow over the gathering, I felt the fierce pride of a king — proud not only of my kingdom but of the queen who had embraced its wildness alongside me.
The feast awaited, the beginning of a union that would be tested by fire and time. But for this moment, beneath the open sky and before the eyes of our people, we were united — sovereign and queen — the savage king and his chosen.
The distant clamor of celebration drifted faintly through the thick stone walls — laughter, music, and the clatter of goblets raised high beneath the open sky. Outside, Valmora's people reveled, their voices carrying into the night like a wild storm unbound. But within the quiet sanctuary of my drawing room, the air was taut with a different gravity.
Elowen sat opposite me, her posture impeccable, the sapphire of her gown a vivid flame against the dark wood and burnished brass. The flicker of candlelight caught in her eyes, revealing a storm of thoughts beneath the composed surface.
I slid the parchment across the heavy oak table — the contract that would bind us not only in title but in law and duty. The ink was still fresh, each word meticulously penned by my most trusted scribes.
"This," I began, voice steady, "is our accord. Though we are joined in marriage, tradition and law require separate chambers. You shall have your own bedchamber — a sanctuary where your freedom is preserved."
Her gaze lifted, meeting mine with a mix of curiosity and resolve.
"You are to produce an heir when you are ready. Until then, you retain the freedom to live as you see fit within these walls — to pursue your interests, your studies, your passions."
I paused, allowing the weight of those words to settle between us.
"However," I continued, "you must never forget your status here. You are queen, and with that title comes expectations — respect from our people, discretion in your actions, and loyalty to this kingdom."
She inclined her head slowly, lips pressed in a thoughtful line. "I understand," she said softly, though the fire in her eyes remained undimmed.
I studied her a moment longer, the fierce intelligence and stubborn grace that had first drawn me in now laid bare in this solemn chamber.
"The contract is not merely a formality," I said. "It is the foundation upon which we build our future — together, yet apart where law dictates, united in purpose and strength."
Outside, the sounds of festivity rose and fell like waves, but here, in the flickering shadows and polished stone, the true work of sovereignty began.