XIV: QUATTUORDECIM

The spacious chamber is decorated in palace green, with fresh flower hangings and floral imprints on the walls. The King had lent out one of his thousand properties - the Liria palace for our wedding to proceed. When the news broke out, everyone said that the Marquis is truly the King’s right-hand man, and his favourite noble, but only I know the truth. The King may be showing his generosity, but he was nowhere near kind. After all, he was the one who poisoned my fiancé.

I am surrounded by servants in the centre of the room, with maids infinitely skilled in the art of beauty. Bomi braids my long black hair and places a few clips of pink rose and white gladiolus on the tips. When married, high ladies usually just put on simple headwear representative of their house. I would’ve been wearing a flower crown. But I am not marrying into a normal house, and I am not just marrying to become a high lady.

I am to become the Marchioness, the wife of a Marquis.

So instead of a flower crown, my hair is pinned and fastened into a tiara of rose-cut diamonds and emeralds, our family emblem. The gemstone sparkles against the glittering golden lights, and I swipe my gaze downwards in the mirror.

Chorong rubs sparkling blush onto my cheeks and applies rose-petal stain on my lips, sculpting my figure in the mirror into something elegant and ethereal. I watch my reflection transform into a woman that I have never seen before. My dress is an ivory illusion tulle gown, with a bateau neckline and lined sweetheart bodice. Floral embroiders and vine lace appliqués are sequinned over the tulle skirt.

For a moment, I let myself to dream of what a wedding would look like if I were to dictate its terms. Unlike Hayoung, who often fantasised about the colours she would wear or the way the sky would look on the day of her wedding, I never had such thoughts in my head.

But just this once, I allowed myself the luxury.

My wedding would be during the winter, in a pavilion at the end of a pine tree-lined lane. Many believed that Spring would be more suitable for the wedding of a plant-sorceress, but I preferred winter. Fluttering snowflakes, white valleys and tall pine-trees would make the best scene. Since it’s winter, I would be in furred coat wrapped around my ivory dress.

And at the end of the lane… perhaps I would have the man I truly love.

I’ve never thought of marrying someone out of love. Before I was betrothed to Taemin, I was already in a family deal with the Kang’s. Romance seemed like a concept out of my reach, a pure fantasy that only exists in the heavens.

“My lady,” Chorong pats lightly on my bare shoulder, interrupting my reverie.

“It’s time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Taemin

With a sharp, ringing bell, the gilded doors swing open, revealing a crowd that makes up beautiful  rows of rainbows.

The crowd devours me as I step into the large vaulted roof dome. My footsteps click against the marble floor. Knowing that I’m supposed to be deeply in-love with my bride, I pull my smile wider than usual. As I get closer to the altar, I glance past the awed faces of nobles and ladies, then land my gaze on the King’s sharp eyes. I give him a nod of respect, and he raises a smile of unknown.

I pull my eyes away to land on my family.

My family of purple, sitting on the front rows of the cathedral. My mother already has her eyes reddened and my father pats her shoulder with a small curl on his lips. Taeyong releases a smile of mischief, perhaps he’s wondering how his brother has managed to find a bride, while Mark opens his mouth in awe. As the only one who knows of my deal, Jinki hyung sends a smile towards my way.

If my sister was here, how would she react?

If my sister were to see her dear brother married, what would be the expression on her face?

A bright smile? Glossy eyes? A soft chuckle?

It was something that I would never know.

I catch myself before a shade of darkness passes my eyes. I’m in the highlight of a show, the of the play.

There’s no chance for me to get distracted.

I play along my role, as I stand on the altar and wait for my bride to arrive.

The bells continue to ring my ears.

And there, I see a silhouette sculpted out of light.

Every step she takes corresponds to every bell that rings.

Soon, her silhouette becomes clearer, and a murmur of admiration moved through the crowd. 

She holds a bouquet and her ivory dress becomes a bearer of light, as it flickers against every step she takes. A tulle veil hangs over her loosen curls, her emerald tiara, and her face.

The bells, the music and the murmurs all seemed so faraway.

The only thing I could hear, was the thumping heartbeat against my ears.

I knew she was beautiful, since that was what everyone said. But it was at this point where I realised that she is more than just beautiful.

She is glowing.

It was as if she brought all celestial spirits with her.

And when her face under the veil comes close enough to my sight, my heart only beats louder. Her lashes flutters under the thin veil, and her shimmering lips curl ever so slightly.

In a split second, there was one part of me where I thought she was really my bride.

Not a lady part of the deal, not the business partner, and not the healer of my poison.

My bride.

Then, I wondered — when we do divorce one year later — will she be wearing another dress and walking towards the man she truly loves? Somehow, this thought made a drip of my blood boil.

I shake the feeling off. Who cares if she marries another man anyways? My plans has never included her. She would always be a chess in my game, and nothing more.

And then I realised what she meant yesterday, by deriving a way to refine my acting.

This was the reaction she expected, the reaction she created.

Soon, this thought cooled my blood and calmed my racing heartbeat down. Yes— everything is just for an act, and I should expect nothing. In fact, I should merely thank her for creating this scene, because if anyone were to cast an sceptical eye on us, they wouldn’t have any second thought.

So, I let my eyes linger on her and I let my smile widen as she approaches with her father. I bow to the high lord, like a groom would do to his father-in-law. I’d expect us to share a handshake, but he wraps his wrinkled arms around mine.

Then, I hear his mutter against my ears.

“I don’t know what deal you made with my daughter, but if she comes back as empty as a doll, or covered in flesh and bone, you will have the entire House Natura as your lifelong enemy.”

“We will not be merciful.” He whispers fiercely in my ears.

I return him a curl on my lips. “Well understood, my lord.” Such a threat is only a whiff of salt to my ears. To be fair, I need his daughter to be alive too, so she could cure my poison. If she manages to neutralise my poison, then of course, I’ll be merciful and spare her life when revolution comes.

She smiles as she approaches me, offers her cheek to her father, and watches as her father places another thump on my back, before taking his seat next to her mother, who was already wiping her eyes.

Scared melody continues to flow through the vaulted ceilings as we wait in front of the officiant.

I guess you didn’t trip on the aisle after all. I tell her inwardly as we face the front.

How do I look? Beautiful? I hear her triumphant voice in my head. She’s clearly getting carried away. Somehow, her taunting voice only reminded me of the time when we had that game in our head, when she gained her first point under the fluttering snowflakes.

And so, I wanted to perfect the game too. I send her a glance, lean in and mutter into her ears.

“You’re more than beautiful.”

She must’ve thought I never would’ve admitted to her beauty, because her eyes widen under the thin veil.

“You took my breath away.” I mutter through the veil.

Her blushed cheeks only flares harder and I see astonishment flicker pass her eyes.

Were those the pick-up lines you wanted to hear? I send a voice back to her head, as she holds in the glare in her eyes. She sends me a look instead and fakes a smile.

Tell me, where did you learn these lines? I need to destroy the source. She grits her teeth.

Too bad, it’s all stored in my head already. I send her a smile.

She was about to return another telepathic comment, before the officiant interrupts our reverie. In the midst of hundreds of guests and forced smiles, I hold her hand and we exchange vows.

“In the name of God, I, Taemin Francesco Lee—”

Your baptist name is Francesco? Wow. She blinks innocently as she interrupts me nonchalantly in my head.

I almost choke over my own breath. It takes all the might for me to refrain from sending her a glare  in public.

“—take you, Naeun Marcella Son, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse—”

I don’t think you’ll take me for worse. She states again, and this time I’m not flustered, but I do catch a glimpse of mischief through the veil.

“—for richer, for poorer—”

Poor? Hm, but I have a few assets of my own, so I guess that’s unlikely.

“—in sickness and in health—”

Oh, for sickness, I don’t need you to take me in. I’ll manage, thanks. She continues with a curl on her lips.

I almost take a deep breath. Shut up, for god’s sake. I tell her.

She laughs in my head.

"—to love and to cherish, until parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

When it’s her turn, I stare at her intensely. The audience probably thinks it’s part of the act, but I’m only planning my revenge. She catches the fury within my stare and she stifles a gulp.

She begins slowly.

“In the name of God, I, Naeun Marcella Son—”

Marcella? Interesting. You act nothing like a 'marcella', though. I snicker and she almost flinches. She takes another deep breath, perhaps calming herself down, since karma is returning to her.

“—take you, Taemin Francesco Lee, to be my husband—”

Well, more like taking me as your deal partner, or, to be specific — your patient. My statement earns her a laugh, but she holds it in with a bite of her lips.

“—to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse—”

Nothing’s worst than now. I say as I watch her almost trip over her words. A smile appears on my face as she continues.

“—for richer, for poorer—”

I own 6 estates, the whole of district 12, and another few thousand acres of fields and grounds. You sure I’ll need you for poor?

“—in sickness and in health—”

I don’t need you for health. Just for the poison, thanks.

She clenches my hand tightly and sink her nails into my palms, refraining herself from both laughing and glaring my way.

How does karma feel like? I ask her.

"—to love and to cherish, until parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

She ends smoothly, stifling a sigh of relief.

You’re so childish. She spits in my head, while I turn and send her a wink.

I slip the platinum wedding ring onto her left finger, and she does the same.

We turn towards the crowd, as the officiant pronounces.

“—Because they have exchanged their vows before God and these witnesses, have pledged their commitment each to the other, and have declared the same by joining hands and by exchanging rings, I now pronounce that they are husband and wife.”

The deafening applause rings my ears as we smile at our audience. Her thin veil flutters against