My Childhood Friend is the Hero’s Bride

Her porcelain skin shimmers through the white silk nightgown as my childhood friend Marie stands before me, lit up by the warm candle light of the cheap inn room.
Both of her hands are holding mine, our fingers intertwining as I am looking slightly down into her emerald green eyes.
"I- I'll be going then." she stammers, as she lowers her face, hiding it behind her beige blonde bangs going down to the left side of her forehead.
"Y-Yeah" I reply, hoping she doesn't notice the unbearable erection I've been having ever since she entered the room.
Our fingers part as she turns around and I instinctively reach out and touch her back as she begins moving towards the door.
She turns to me once more, smiling.
"Don't worry, Al. I'll come back as soon as I'm done."
And with those words she leaves the room, her long wavy hair flowing behind her, before I can muster up any reply.

After the door closes I can hear a few steps on the wooden floor leading to the stairway going to the upper rooms. I continue listening for a while, but because of the noise coming from the inn lounge I can't make out anything else. Of course you can expect the cheapest room to be the closest to where the drunk adventurers spend their evenings trying chat up the barmaids.
"(I wish I had splurged a bit)"
Frustrated I lie down on the bed, my pants bulging.
Her smell fills the room. It's a sweet smell, like flowers or wild berries... but has it always been this strangely erotic?
*...*
"(I wonder what's happening in the other room right now.)"
As I think that, my hand subconsciously wanders down towards my pants. As I touch my painfully erect cock, I realize what I'm doing.
"(No, even for me, this is too much.)"
I lie on my side, trying to suppress the urge that's been building up ever since she knocked on my door a few minutes ago, wearing nothing but her white one piece sleep wear. It wasn't particularly erotic, a simple white nightgown made out of silk with a round neck cutout showing the onset of her modest chest, and going down to slightly above the knees. The nun of the orphanage we grew up in gave it to her for her birthday three years ago.
But today when I think about her wearing that innocent one piece, I can't help but feel like there is nothing more erotic in the world.
After all, right now she is probably wearing it while having sex with him.
That's right, our party had booked two rooms tonight, one for me and one for them.
Marie and Ragnar. The Saint and the Hero. By age old tradition the two of them have been married.

There was no big ceremony, just a quick send-off after our party was formed a week ago. The Hero Ragnar, the Saint Marie and me, Alan, a priest fresh out of training.

My heart sags a bit at the thought of my beloved childhood friend being defiled by that guy, even having to marry him... But despite that when she came to comfort me before going to his room, I became unbearably excited. I should hate this, yet at the same time I am more erect than I have ever been.

As I lie on the bed, fighting the urge to masturbate, I recount the events leading up to today.

I had confessed to Marie on the night before her birthday.
"Geez, took you long enough." she replied with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. She jumped into my arms and I kissed her on the mouth.

We had both grown up in an Orphanage in Aster Village, a small community close to the Holy Church in the rural areas of the kingdom. Neither of us knew what had happened to our parents, but we didn't care much either.

I had just finished my training as a priest, the class I had attained during my coming-of-age two years ago. Finally on her birthday she would receive her class too. After she completed her training we would leave the village, become adventurers and living a happy life.

Then IT happened. Instead of receiving a regular class on her birthday, that accursed sign showed up on the back of her right hand. -The Sign of the Saint-.
Of course I had read the stories of the first king and queen of the Magnolia Kingdom we live in being the last incarnations of the Hero and Saint. After the defeat of the Demon Lord, the kingdom's founding ushered in a period of prosperity and peace.

On Marie's birthday the orphanage was filled with cheers and joy, but I had a feeling that the sign in her hand was an omen of hard times to come.

A few days later, Ragnar showed up in the village, asking where he would find the Saint. Of course news about Marie spread quickly and so he showed up at the orphanage a while later while we were enjoying our evening together.

"I have to what?!" Marie yells at the head nun Freda.
" I am sorry dear, but that is how it is written in the holy texts."
I feel dazed as I am standing next to Marie who is confronting the head nun about what she had just said.
"The Saint and the Hero are to be wed and she must attend to him at least once per week. Only though this can the divine blessing needed to slay the Demon Lord be attained." proclaims Freda once again pointing her finger at the passage she had just read from the Sacred Book.
"But... this guy..." she pauses, looking at Ragnar "Anyway, the Demon Lord returning is just a rumor, there hasn't been one in over 500 years!" Marie replies, trying to suppress her anger. Freda shook her head to signal that there wouldn't be any further debate.

Ragnar who had been sitting on a bench watching the conversation walked up to us.

He was about two meters tall, much larger than any man I had ever seen, tanned and had short blonde hair. His face looked good and he was muscular. The perfect image of a "Hero". But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off when I first saw him.

"Now, now, do you hate the thought of marrying me that much? I don't think I'm that bad off a catch, to be honest. And I think you're just my type too." He says with an amused tone.
"Yes I do hate the thought. And I don't care whether or not I'm your type. But that's besides the point. I already have a lover, so this discussion is pointless." she replies.
"Huh?! You have a lover? Who is it? This guy?"
As he points at me, I awaken from my daze.
"Yes, Al is my lover." Marie proclaims with a triumphant smile.
"Dammit... wait. You didn't do it yet, did you?"
"D-Do what?"
"Hah, you don't have to answer. That guy looks like he couldn't even get it up. And anyway, the sign of the Saint only chooses those who are still virgins." a disgusting smile creeps across his face. "Of course, they don't remain that way for long."
Marie blushes, seemingly half embarrassed, half angry.
"You there, nun." Freda is startled at getting called out so rudely, but replies. "What is it, Sir Ragnar?"
"Get her stuff, we're departing tomorrow. Oh and, for tonight we'll be borrowing a room."
"O-Of course."
I muster my strength.
"W-Wait. You can't take her."
He smiles and looks at me.
"Oh yes, I can."
My hand begins forming a fist. He looks at it and his smile grows wider. I have no chance of winning against him. I know that, but... but...
No, I have to do what I can. Fighting now won't help Marie. I gather my spirit and address him with as firm a voice as I can muster.
"Take me with you."
Marie turns to me with a shocked expression, I meet her eyes before looking back at Ragnar.
"Please allow me to come with you on your journey. I will do whatever I can to be useful. I will be your servant, do whatever you want, just let me be with Marie."
I hadn't noticed but Marie is holding my hand, tears are starting to form in the corners of her eyes.
Ragnar looks a bit surprised, but soon his familiar smirk returns.
"Haha. You're serious, aren't you? I wonder, should I let you come with us?" After a brief pause he asks: "A servant you say?"
He looks me in the eyes as his smile has grown wide enough to be called a grimace.
"Well, I can't decline that. And I'm not cruel enough to separate Marie from her 'lover'.
Oh, but just to make it clear, her body is mine and I don't intend on holding back. If you're okay with that, you can be our servant."
He smiles as offers me a hand shake. -Her body is mine- I gulp and shake his hand.

My eyes open to to see an unfamiliar ceiling.
That's right. Tonight is the second time they're having sex. I had fallen asleep on the bed of the inn room, my erection was still raging.
I looked at the door and there stood Marie, wearing her white one piece. Her blonde hair was sticking to her flushed face and the cloth of her attire was stained with sweat and other fluids. She looked at me with glassy eyes and a half opened mouth.
If I had to describe her with a single word, it would be 'melted'.

End Chapter 1