The Cursed Kingdom

~ THE CORENTANZ ~

“I have to warn you,” Henrik said while we stood in the center of the hallway, our hands adjoined. A smile played along his lips, which appeared fuller than they had before now that his face was freshly shaven and there were no dark hairs to shadow them. Although I typically disliked facial hair, Henrik wore his well and always kept it nicely trimmed so that the edges were always sharp with not a single hair on his neck. I found myself slightly missing it, but with or without facial hair, he was still the most beautiful male I’d ever seen—scars, tattoos, crown, and all. “I constructed a small wedding-slash-coronation present for you.”

“What?” I began to protest with a shake of my head. “Henrik, no. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Raena, I can assure you that you’ve given me everything I could have ever asked for.” He lifted my hands to his lips, kissing both my knuckles while he stared deep into my eyes, and then was quick to kiss my cheeks as well, which felt like they had hot embers placed on top of them.

His kisses had been untamable since we left the temple. My mark still tingled with a slight ache from the heated display of affection he’d given me in the carriage, every nip and trail of his lips along my neck a promise of what was to come later that very night.

I shuddered at the thought.

Just as I was about to speak, the door swung open and our heads rotated in sync to look at the guard that cautiously peeked his head in, as if he was expecting to see something quite unpleasant. But he relaxed once he saw us just standing there, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

“Your Majesties, they’re ready for you,” he spoke in a whisper, his eyes noticeably running over my dress but not in a strange or perverted way. Pure admiration of Mary’s work showed on his face, his eyebrows raised and the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile.

Now that my train and veil were gone, the pattern of the lace was more visible as well as my hair that Ingrid, the only person who I trusted with my hair anymore, had twisted into a beautiful loose bun with strands placed in all the right places. The style allowed for my crown to remain comfortably on my head and my hair to frame my face nicely at the same time.

“Are you ready, my love?” Henrik asked, the coolness of his wedding band suddenly biting against my palm and reminding me yet again of what we had just done.

No longer was I holding hands with just the Cursed King but my husband, my mate, my Henrik—my king. No matter what was to come, whether it be good or bad, we would forever be bonded to each other and the thought of that did not scare or frustrate me like I’d expected it to. Like my mind told me it should’ve. But I was sick of my emotions following the beliefs set by others, like some sort of well-trained dog.

For once, I wanted to feel something out of the simplicity that I desired to feel it.

I wanted to be free.

“I don’t know,” I said with a smile. However, my true anxiousness came out in the shakiness of my voice and I cursed at it, wishing it to finally go away. “Are you?” It was a pathetic way of me trying to stall. But I couldn’t help myself from wanting to spend more time with him, even if it was in a secluded and dimly lit hallway right outside the ballroom that was covered with the ugliest yellow wallpaper I’d ever seen.

“So long as I have you by my side,” Henrik replied, his serious tone and eyes taking me by surprise.

My eyebrows lifted, my heart aching with guilt as I recalled all the times I’d thought of leaving, the last time having been just that morning when the servants had first knocked on my door to announce my breakfast was ready. But that was my fear talking, not truly me. I couldn’t deny the thought was still there though, like a stubborn parasite feasting at my mind.

A high pitched horn sounded from outside the door, making my body jolt in surprise and Henrik chuckled. I sent him an annoyed glare in response.

“So jumpy,” he muttered with a smile, lacing my arm through his own. His words took me back to when we were first properly introduced, making nostalgia possess me as the memory rammed itself into me like an angry bull. It was only a couple months ago yet it felt like a lifetime, as if I’d been looking through the eyes of a completely different person. She had been a commoner from Amaryllus, who only knew a cage and the dreams it locked inside, and I was now Queen of the Cursed Kingdom, the wife and mate of the very monster I’d once feared.

“Their Majesties, King Henrik and Queen Raena of Galycia!” the voice of the guard that had spoken to us earlier announced, muffled by the door separating us from the other room. Hearing that sentence had my heart leaping into my throat and I instinctively leaned into Henrik, who only sent a smile down at me.

When the doors opened away from us, the crowd I saw standing there amazed me, despite me having seen them all back at the temple. In the couple hours Henrik and I had sat to relax a bit before the after party, the lords and ladies had changed into gold and silver themed attire, having all been given their own rooms in the palace on the second floor. The ladies’ dresses were wider and longer, their hairs styled in more extravagant do’s, and the lords had noticeably changed into thinner jackets and different shoes, the attire more fitting for the celebration that would be taking place the rest of the night.

I noticed the lack of children below the age of sixteen, who I knew were watched by a team of guards and nannies that had travelled with the lords and ladies to look after the younger ones when they couldn’t.

Heads bowed as we walked past, whispering “Your Majesties” in a large, single wave from all around me the deeper we walked into the room.

My eyes drifted upwards over the ballroom, gasping at the dome-shaped ceiling where two large diamond chandeliers as big as carriages hung. Paintings of blushing faeries and nymphs lounging on pink clouds in a light blue sky covered every inch of the ceiling, reminding me of the images portrayed in Henrik’s room. My eyes trailed over and stuck onto a green-skinned female lounging on her elbows, small breasts on full display, and smiling as she was serenaded by two Fae males with platters of fruit.

But it wasn’t just the artwork that astounded me. It was the accents of real, solid gold in the creases where the walls met the ceiling that had been heated and then cooled into swirling patterns, the light from the chandelier reflecting off of them and making them appear as if they were living flames.

The navy blue wallpaper was just as grand, the patterns so small that you had to be up close to truly admire its complicated designs, and the white marble floors completed the room, so clean that I could see the ceiling’s painting in it. Floor length windows on the three walls of the rectangle-shaped room showed the mountains in the distance and the setting sun beyond them.

As the crowd continued to part, moving respectfully off to the sides, large spots of yellow caught my attention and my head snapped forward and my steps faltered. I looked at Henrik, watched him nod, confirming what I was seeing was true, and then I turned back to my gift, swallowing down a sob. Beside a throne entirely made up of gold stood another just as large and grand but with flowers etched around its edges instead of swirling designs similar to the ones that covered Henrik’s body and the relics used in my coronation. On either side of the thrones, tapestries hung with the letters ‘HR’ embroidered with golden thread.

My lip began wobbling for a reason I didn’t really understand myself. Happiness, sadness, guilt, frustration, and fear came together to create one nasty sensation in my stomach that had me wanting to disappear and never show my face again. The people who now looked up to me as their queen began clapping and murmuring their compliments, welcoming me no matter our difference in species. They welcomed me so much more warmly than I had ever considered to do to them. I felt somewhat ashamed.

“Does it please you, Raena?” Henrik questioned, staring at my face, searching for my genuine reaction like it was buried treasure. “You would be given a throne no matter what, of course, but I thought the flowers would suit you better so I had this one crafted instead.”

“It’s...” I trailed off, staring at the throne. My throne. I tightened my arm around his, feeling the need to have some sort of grounding all of a sudden, like a ship seeking an anchor in a merciless storm. “It’s exquisite, Henrik. Thank you.”

Without wasting another second, he brought my hand up and kissed both my wedding band and engagement ring and then pulled me in close. For a moment, I thought he was going to hug me but instead he held onto my forearms and leaned in close, nose skimming my cheekbone. “So how about we get this little dance over with,” he murmured against the shell of my ear, “so that I may have the pleasure to escort you where you truly belong?” He leaned his head back and smiled into my eyes that were full of tears. I wished I could stop crying. But whether I was sad or happy, it seemed I simply could not. I only hoped that my makeup was as waterproof as the artist had claimed it to be.

Henrik nodded behind me and towards the full orchestra that had been blinded from my sight by the crowd that now stood against the walls. Every instrument I could ever imagine was there, including some I’d never seen or heard of before.

He’s going to make me faint, I thought..

The composer, whose dark mustache was gelled to have dramatic curls at its ends, gave us both a bow and turned to the orchestra as Henrik brought me close and got me in the position I’d practiced with Callie for hours, hand on his shoulder blade and other hand outstretched and entwined with his. I remembered the night before clearly, reminding myself to roll my shoulders backwards, keep my head high, and to keep my outstretched arm stiff while adding pressure to his hand. But it all felt so foreign now that I was doing it with him as my partner, his hands being so much larger and his whole body covered in layers of muscle, the one in his shoulder that my hand rested feeling particularly like a stone.

It felt like I was more of a doll than a dance partner, which I wasn’t at all upset with. In fact, if anything, it made me feel more confident that if I did mess up, Henrik could keep going and make everything look as if it was still perfect.

The first slow strum of a violin sounded out, beginning at a deep and somber tune and slowly getting higher and higher until the other instruments joined in to create a familiar song that had my heart racing as my mind began counting its slow rhythm. The music was so different from what it sounded like from the record player. It was more crisp and real, causing my fingers on Henrik’s shoulder blade to twitch restlessly.

When I counted to eight for the second time, I took my first step with my right foot as Henrik stepped back, beginning a dance that I can only describe as being full of so many twists, turns, dips, and spins that my head felt dizzy after the first few seconds.

During the whole time, our eyes focused on one another’s, only leaving in the few seconds Henrik spun me and during a small part where he had to kneel on the ground and I walked around him, our hands never leaving until finally I stood facing him again and we began the dance all over again. That was perhaps the hardest part about the Corentanz: we always had to keep physical contact, whether it was just the brushing of our fingertips or his whole arm practically being wrapped around my waist when he dipped me. It was supposed to represent our newfound togetherness as queen and king and was seen as bad luck for the whole kingdom if there was even a split second where we were not touching.

The pressure of people’s expectations definitely made it harder.

The dance finally came to an end with a high pitched vibrato from the violin and I released my hold on Henrik’s shoulder while he so to my waist, both of us stepping back so we stood side-by-side with our hands still adjoined. Henrik bowed while I curtsied, our grip on each other’s fingers on the verge of being considered painful.

Our people instantly began clapping at our successful Corentanz, hopeful it was the sign of us having long and prosperous reign. Two or three of them gave a few whistles with their fingers in their mouths, the sharp sounds impressing me.

When the violin finally faded into complete silence, I let out a heavy breath, my whole body shaking with fading adrenaline and my tired legs feeling like custard in my ridiculously tall heels. But still I stood straight and smiled, not allowing myself to show these people that I was winded by the three minute long choreography.

Without wasting another moment, Henrik pulled me to him by my hand until I was so close I could’ve counted his eyelashes if I chose to. “You did so well,” Henrik told me and I thanked him internally for giving me the reassurance without me having to ask, feeling another surge of relief that I hadn’t tripped and my crown hadn’t fallen off. Henrik looked behind me, his face hardening as he noticed something unpleasant. “Excuse me, my female,” he said, his words slow in a careful manner. “I’m afraid I must discuss some plans for the constructions of new schools. Don’t go to your throne until I’m back. I want to be by your side when you sit in it for the first time.”

Henrik disappeared into the crowd that had overtaken the dance floor before I could answer, the lingering of his hand on my shoulder burning me.

When music for another dance started to play, I made a quick escape and stood awkwardly off to the side only a few feet away from the thrones. A few lords and ladies came up to me every once and awhile and congratulated me, holding drinks and napkins full of treats from one of two the long tables pressed against the walls. On both, there were ice sculptures of wolves placed in their center but that was the only thing that had interested me about them. Despite me being the one who picked out every single dessert and sandwich served that night, eating was the last thing on my mind.

"Little Madam.”

I turned at the sound of the familiar voice to my right and smiled up at Evander, who was dressed in a suit that was almost an exact replica of Henrik’s but with slight differences in the design. His was a bit less elaborate but the tattoos on his neck and the way he held himself made him stand out in the crowd just as much as his cousin. His long hair was slicked back into a neat bun, which looked quite unnatural on him, after having always seen him wear his hair slightly tousled.

’The wedding was much lovelier than I originally anticipated. Thank you for bringing such a marvelous piece of your tradition to our soil,” he said cheerfully, although I couldn’t help but feel a subtle sense of awkwardness when he said it. His words didn’t have the usual charm to them. Instead, his upbeat tone sounded almost forced, like he’d rehearsed and memorized every single syllable of every word before he ever attempted to approach me.

Without truly thinking, I looked in the direction Henrik had disappeared in nearly forty-five minutes prior (I could tell from the clock that hung on the wall opposite to the thrones) and noticed my husband having a deep conversation with Callie against a corner, a guard standing beside her and head bent downward as the cousins appeared to be in a very heated argument.

Callie looked pissed, angrier than I thought was possible for such a beautiful face, and her eyes glowed so bright that they looked like tiny light bulbs from where I was standing. And then suddenly they met mine, no doubt her Lycan senses immediately taking notice of my gaze, and she stopped speaking, her wide eyes looking like she’d just been discovered in the act of doing something dreadful. I could see Henrik’s head begin to turn my way when I snapped my eyes back to Evander, my heart heavy from knowing I’d been blatantly caught staring.

“Thank you, Evander,” I told him softly, watching over his shoulder as the laughing lord and ladies danced, their dresses’s wide skirts practically flying to the heavens whenever they twirled.

But as my eyes looked and looked, Ingrid’s blue dress and long French braid were nowhere to be seen. It didn’t surprise me. She’d warned me prior to the ceremony that she might have to leave early because Furkan was on call for border patrol, the security all over the kingdom being increased that night, and her son was still too young to be left home alone. While I understood entirely, I couldn’t help but feel disappointment.

“I understand your loyalty lies with my sister.” My eyes made their way back to Evander who, in my spacing out, I had almost forgotten was there and I felt horrible, hoping I hadn’t accidentally ignored something he said. “However, if there is ever anything you need—anything at all—you can always come to me,” Evander told me with a soft smile. I forced one onto my own face, trying my hardest to maintain eye contact and not be rude. His eyes flickered down to my empty hands. “Can I get—”

A familiar muscular arm snaked around my middle, Henrik’s hand gripping just below my rib, “Good evening, cousin,” the king bit out through clenched teeth, his eyes brightening with every word. Silently, I looked up at him and begged him to put his jealousy aside and be at least kind to Evander. “Doesn’t my mate look absolutely stunning tonight?”

I shuffled awkwardly on my aching feet, feeling a sense of embarrassment as the conversation’s subject was turned to me.

“Yes, as she always does,” Evander said, his tight-lipped smile looking so fake that I wondered if it hurt him to make it as much as it did me to watch it.

Our lessons had stopped all together the week before the wedding, my time too consumed by decorating, learning vows, and dancing to have any desire in my exhausted body to learn how and where to strike people. As I stood there, I realized how much I’d truly missed my time with Evander. He was one of the kindest people I’d ever met, who showed me how I could utilize my advantages while never once making me feel bad about the areas I didn’t have any.

“Pardon me, Your Majesties, but I better be getting back to entertaining Lord Basil before he drinks all the good wine.” Evander bowed and walked away, my eyes following his retreating back with guilt, feeling like I should’ve begged him to stay and talk longer.

Before I could truly see where Evander headed off to, Henrik used his arm on my waist to pivot me towards the back of the room and lead us towards the thrones.

As I got closer, the golden throne seemed a lot taller than what I had originally perceived. I gazed upwards at the full length of it, feeling unworthy to even be standing so close to it let alone comfortable enough to sit in it.

Sensing this, Henrik grasped my hand and did not let it go until I was seated in my throne and leaned back in a somewhat relaxed position with my elbows placed on the armrests. Henrik quickly sat beside me, unfastening the buttons at the end of his jacket, and propped his chin on his palm. He watched me carefully as the tips of my fingers trailed the patterns engraved in the throne that uncannily matched the flowers and vines that decorated my engagement ring.

“So,” he began in a teasing tone, “what do you think, Your Majesty?”

I sighed, looking around the room illuminated by the setting sun and the dimmed chandelier lights, watching as the very beings I’d once feared as crazed animals dancing elegantly around me.

“I think you were right,” I said with a hint of a smirk, letting his upbeat attitude lift my spirits. Whatever Henrik and Callie had gotten into an argument about I brushed off as strictly royal business, remembering how my assumptions always got me into trouble before. I put all my trust in the belief, no matter how much it hurt my persistent curiosity, that if Henrik deemed it necessary that I know something, he would tell me. He was my husband. I had to trust him. “A throne of gold is not nearly as comfortable as it looks.”

Henrik barked a laugh and reached over, holding my hand and rubbing circles over my knuckles with his thumb. “Indeed, my female,” he sighed in content, the sound mimicking exactly what I was feeling inside.

We sat back and watched the laughing crowd together, all dancing so perfectly and in uniform that if I squinted and blurred my vision with my eyelashes, they almost looked like tiny figurines from a music box. Our people, I thought, testing the idea in my mind and repeating it over and over until the term got jumbled in my mind.

“One hour,” Henrik said suddenly, his voice going gravely as his grip on my hand tightened. “We will stay for one hour out of chivalry,” he leaned in closer and lowered his voice into a purr, “and then I will have my way with you, my little Rae.”

And when I looked over at him, his lips pulling into a devilish smirk, I had no doubt he would.