Dutchess of the End

It was some two weeks later that I was able to walk unassisted. It still hurt, and after no small amount of Alihjn healing was I left with only the wound on my back. Like Penelope’s scar over her eye, the one on my back would stay with me all my days. Stephanie found it sexy, a phenomenon that was taking the wives and lovers of surviving soldiers by storm. I didn’t care much. Before long, I didn’t feel the pain of it, I could go about my days as though it wasn’t there.

 

There weren’t many of those days before the wedding and subsequent coronation were upon us. I was put in a blue and gold dress- one that signified I had the blood of the nobility as well as the family I was to be married into. It had taken an hour to put it on fully, attended by an army of beauticians ensuring that everything about my appearance was perfect and radiant and Royal. 

 

“There.” Renai put the finishing touches of makeup on my face. My freckles were gone for the moment, and my eyes shone a shade brighter than the dull brown they typically appeared as. I wore a long-sleeved dress with a wide arc of frills around my body. A long staff that was a head taller than I sat cradled in my right arm. It was pure white, ending in a head that would look similar to the tiara I’d wear while appearing in court. I was to be Queen, yet my mind was only on the woman I was to be wed to.

 

I saw her now, as I walked out of my changing room- which had been hastily setup in a room adjacent to the Throne Room. Stephanie stood in front of the throne, wearing the regal blue that looked oh so beautiful on her. She smiled wide, her eyes glistening with tears that had yet to fall. My heart soared and my stomach turned at the sight. Her hair was curled, falling down her back, the swell of her stomach pronounced, and there was a brightness about her that could cast the rest of the room in shadow. The throne forgotten, my titles and ambitions dwindled to dust before me as I walked towards the middle of the room.

 

Music began playing, hundreds of women present stood, but I didn’t hear it, I didn’t see it. I approached Stephanie, a smile on my face so wide I could feel the tension in my jaw. It hurt sore after a moment. I kept it there, unable to let it abate in the moment. I neared her and kissed her once, twice, allowing a full moment before breaking from her. As I did, the sound came back to me, and there was a thundering applause in the room.

 

Only then did I allow myself to look at the crowd before me. They were all dressed as well as they could be. Formal robes, beautiful flowing garments abounded around me in yellows, reds, and whites. Cheering, screaming, clapping all mixed in with the music, though I only spared them a moment before looking back to Stephanie.

 

“You ready?” I asked her. She nodded and brought one hand up to wipe a tear away from her eye.

 

“Yeah. Let’s fucking get married.” She said.

 

Telbian weddings differed from Alihjn weddings starkly. They were public, gaudy affairs, especially when it was a Crown Prince who was to be wed. The Dining Hall would be packed with women celebrating, drinking, eating, and no small amount of fucking. Even now, the Throne Room was far too crowded for even a single extra woman to witness what was to happen.

 

On my right index finger sat a ring. The one I had received from Stephanie in the days following my initial proposal. It had been there for the last while, though initially I only wore it in her presence. Now, it would become something beautiful. It was already a symbol of a promise, but promises could be broken. Love- especially a love that was to be bound here today- was eternal. We’d join Soall one day, together, as it was always meant to be.

 

I took the ring off my finger and held it up above my head. Stephanie did the same with hers- the same one I had given her the night I proposed. Light from the windows shone in, illuminating the centre of the rings. They glowed bright, becoming warm in our hands. After a moment of this, we let go of the rings, and they floated there themselves.

 

“Stephanie, daughter of Mona, I love you with all my heart. I desire nothing more than to be with you until the end of eternity, until Time itself is no more.” I said, looking into her eyes. My hand reached for hers, and she took it, fingers interlocking, a tight grip left fingertips white.

 

“Carla, daughter of Tanep, I love you with everything I have, everything I am, and everything I will be. Become one with me, enter into life eternal by my side.” Stephanie said. The vows had some guidelines that needed to be followed for the magic in the rings to do what was necessary, but otherwise we had been free to say whatever we desired.

 

After we both spoke, the rings floating above us melded together, what had been simple bands of metal expanded wide enough into a single hoop, wide enough to envelop both of us where we stood. It lowered itself down. As it did, I leaned closer to Stephanie, and we kissed again.

 

She tasted like love. Like a promise you made to your first girlfriend to run away and get married the second you were old enough. Like the first bite of an apple after days of hunger and thirst. Like a part of yourself had been lost, and after searching all your life to find it, were finally reunited with it. Like pure, true love that could never be broken.

 

The kiss ended. Stephanie looked out to the crowd to hold out her Gift Hand. The crowd roared in applause. On her index finger was a black ring of skin, as though a brand had enveloped her finger and burned it coal black. But there was no pained expression on Stephanie’s face, no reaction that could even hint at malease.

 

I, then, lifted my Birth Hand, my own index finger had that same band of black skin, solid, thin, speaking to the permanence of the promises made to one another today. The physical, metal rings were gone. Left in their wake were etchings of eternity on our skin. No magic known to any race could remove it, and if the finger were lost, a similar band would appear on another.

 

I looked back at Stephanie, my heart racing. My face hurt from how long it had been curved upwards. My hands were trembling even as I lowered them back to my sides. I reached out to touch her again, our hands interlocking once more. This time, our Marriage Marks touched, and I laughed.

 

We kissed again.

 

I couldn’t care less about the coronation. Stephanie was all I needed. The warm presence of the woman I truly loved before me, against me, with me, enveloping me in love.

 

I had been the bringer of a false doom. I was not the Dutchess of the End, as I had thought, but rather a Queen of Beginnings. With my King, my lovely, beautiful King, I would have a long, fruitful, and joyous life.