The Unwanted Bride

The Royal Bridal Suite was a cage of gold and velvet.

In her first life, Seraphina had spent her wedding night pacing these floors. She had worn a sheer, crimson silk nightgown that made her shiver, checking her reflection every five minutes, terrified that her hair was messy. She had waited for Kaelen until the candles burned down to wax puddles. When he finally arrived at dawn, smelling of ink and fatigue, he had merely glanced at her, apologized for the delay, and collapsed into sleep on the far side of the bed.

She had cried herself to sleep that night.

Tonight, however, the atmosphere was different.

"Your Highness, are you sure?" Lila, her maid, held up the crimson silk nightgown. It was scandalous, beautiful, and uncomfortable. "This is the tradition. It is designed to... entice His Majesty."

Seraphina sat at the vanity, removing her heavy diamond earrings with a sigh of relief.

"Burn it," Seraphina said flatly.

Lila gasped. "Your Highness?"

"I said burn it. Or throw it away. I don't care." Seraphina stood up and walked to the wardrobe. She rummaged through the drawers until she found a simple, high-necked cotton nightgown. It was thick, warm, and entirely unsexy. "I will wear this."

"But... the King..."

"The King is a man of logic, Lila. He will appreciate a wife who does not catch pneumonia."

Seraphina changed quickly. She scrubbed the heavy makeup off her face, revealing her natural, pale skin. She braided her silver hair into a loose, practical plait.

"You may leave," Seraphina ordered the maids. "Extinguish the main chandelier. Leave only the bedside lamp."

"But Your Highness, His Majesty hasn't arrived yet!"

"I know," Seraphina said, climbing into the massive four-poster bed and pulling the down comforter up to her chin. "And when he does, he knows how to open a door. Goodnight."

The maids scrambled out, whispering frantically. The room plunged into semi-darkness.

Seraphina didn't wait. She didn't worry. She closed her eyes and, exhausted by the time travel and the politics, fell into a deep, dreamless sleep within minutes.

Two hours later, the heavy oak door creaked open.

King Kaelen stepped inside. He paused, his hand still on the brass handle. He was bracing himself.

He had spent the last two hours in his study, delaying this moment. He dreaded the tears, the awkward conversation, the expectation of intimacy with a stranger. He had prepared a speech about duty and patience to calm his nervous bride.

He stepped fully into the room... and stopped.

The room was dark. Quiet.

There was no pacing woman. No weeping bride in the corner.

Kaelen frowned, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the single oil lamp. He walked toward the bed, his boots silent on the thick carpet.

There, buried under a mountain of pillows, was Seraphina.

She was fast asleep.

Her breathing was slow and rhythmic. She was wearing a nightgown that looked more suitable for a nun than a Queen. Her back was turned to the empty side of the bed, hugging a pillow as if it were a shield.

Kaelen stood by the bedside, staring down at her. He felt a strange sensation in his chest.

Relief? Yes. But also... indignation?

She went to sleep? he thought, bewildered. On her wedding night? Without even waiting to greet me?

It was unheard of. It was disrespectful.

It was... perfectly convenient.

Kaelen let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He loosened his cravat and tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair. He sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots.

The mattress shifted. Seraphina stirred.

Kaelen froze.

She rolled over, blinking blearily in the lamplight. She saw him sitting there, half-undressed.

In the past, she would have scrambled up, apologized profusely, and tried to pour him wine.

Now, Seraphina just squinted at him. She pulled the blanket higher.

"You're late," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"I had matters of state to attend to," Kaelen said stiffly, his defense automatic.

"Mmm." She closed her eyes again. "The candles are out. Don't trip on the rug."

Kaelen stared at her. "Is that all you have to say?"

Seraphina cracked one eye open. The violet iris seemed to glow in the dark.

"Kaelen," she said, her voice dropping the formal titles again. "We are married. We will be married for the rest of our lives. We have thousands of nights to talk. Tonight, I am tired. And you look exhausted."

She rolled back over, presenting her back to him again.

"Goodnight, Your Majesty."

Kaelen sat there for a long moment, the silence of the room wrapping around him. He looked at her small form under the blankets. She wasn't asking for anything. She didn't want his body, his reassurance, or his attention.

She just wanted sleep.

For the first time in his life as King, Kaelen felt the crushing weight of expectation lift off his shoulders. He didn't have to perform tonight.

A small, genuine smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Goodnight, Seraphina," he whispered into the darkness.

He lay down on his side of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. For the first time in years, the King of Aethelgard fell asleep instantly.

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