Chapter 5 The Wedding Night

The wedding night arrived, draped in an expectation heavier than Anya's embroidered bridal gown. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the lavishly decorated bedchamber. Anya, dismissed early from the boisterous celebrations, sat perched on the edge of the grand four-poster bed, her heart pounding like a trapped bird. A maid, assigned by the Queen Mother herself, hovered nearby, her presence a stark reminder of the scrutiny surrounding this night. Anya felt a blush creep up her neck, shame and apprehension swirling within her.

This was not how she had envisioned her wedding night. The door creaked open, and Lucian entered, his expression a mixture of weariness and determination. He looked impossibly handsome in his dark velvet attire, but Anya could sense the tension radiating from him, the weight of responsibility he carried. The maid curtsied, her eyes flickering between them with an almost predatory gleam. "Your Highnesses," she announced, her voice laced with a thinly veiled salaciousness, "I shall be waiting in the antechamber should you require anything." Anya's stomach churned. She felt like a sacrificial lamb, laid out for inspection. Lucian, however, seemed unfazed by the maid's intrusive presence. He approached Anya, his gaze softening as he took in her pale face and trembling hands. "Anya," he said gently, "are you alright?" Anya managed a weak nod, unable to meet his eyes. Lucian sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He turned to the maid, his voice firm. "Thank you, Martha. That will be all for now." The maid hesitated, her eyes widening in surprise. "But Your Highness, the Queen Mother instructed-" "I am aware of the Queen Mother's instructions," Lucian interrupted, his voice laced with steel. "However, I assure you, I am quite capable of... fulfilling my duties." He paused, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. "In fact," he continued, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "I am already quite... prepared." He gave the maid a pointed look, his meaning unmistakable. Martha, flustered and clearly outmaneuvered, stammered a hasty retreat, closing the door behind her with a resounding click. Anya, who had been holding her breath, let out a shaky exhale. She looked at Lucian, her eyes wide with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. She had expected... she didn't know what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. Lucian, sensing her fear, gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Anya," he said softly. "I won't hurt you." He stepped closer, reaching out to cup her cheek in his hand. Anya flinched involuntarily, her body betraying her fear. Lucian's hand stilled, his expression hardening. "Anya," he said, his voice firm but gentle, "look at me." Anya hesitantly met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. She saw a flicker of something in his eyes, a mix of frustration and... understanding? "I won't force you to do anything you're not ready for," Lucian said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I need you to trust me." He lowered his hand, stepping back to give her space. "Undress yourself," he instructed, his voice surprisingly gentle. "I'll turn around." Anya, still trembling, slowly began to unfasten her gown, her fingers fumbling with the intricate buttons. Lucian turned away, his broad back a reassuring presence in the dimly lit room. Once she was clad only in her thin chemise, Anya felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. She couldn't do this. She wasn't ready. Lucian, sensing her hesitation, spoke without turning around. "Anya, there's something you need to know." He turned back to face her, his expression serious. He walked towards a small table by the bed and picked up a vial filled with a dark red liquid. "This," he said, holding up the vial, "is dragon's blood. A few drops, mixed with... other fluids, will be enough to convince the Queen's physician that we have... consummated our marriage." Anya stared at him, bewildered. "But... why?" Lucian sighed. "Because I won't force you, Anya. Not tonight, not ever. But I also won't risk your safety, or mine, by defying my parents." He handed her the vial, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. "Do you understand what you need to do?" Anya nodded, her mind still reeling from the revelation. Lucian had just offered her a way out, a way to protect herself, even if it meant deceiving his family. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Lucian gave her a small smile. "Get some rest, Anya. We have a long road ahead of us." He turned and walked towards the door, pausing at the threshold. "And Anya?" "Yes?" "Don't worry," he said, his voice softening. "I'll be sleeping in the adjoining chamber. You're safe." With that, he left, closing the door quietly behind him. Anya stood there for a long moment, the vial of dragon's blood clutched tightly in her hand. She felt a surge of gratitude for Lucian, for his unexpected kindness, for his respect for her boundaries. He was not the man she had expected him to be. He was... better. She carefully followed his instructions, mixing the dragon's blood with... a substitute, her cheeks burning with shame and a strange sense of defiance. She was lying, deceiving the entire court, but it felt strangely empowering. For the first time since her arrival at the palace, she felt a glimmer of control over her own destiny. As she climbed into the grand bed, the soft linens enveloping her like a cocoon, Anya felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. It had been a long and tumultuous day, filled with emotions she had never experienced before. But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a new feeling was taking root - a tentative hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this marriage wouldn't be the prison sentence she had feared. Perhaps, with Lucian by her side, she could find a way to navigate the treacherous waters of the royal court and forge a life of her own, a life where love, not duty, would be her guiding star.