Chapter 3: His Mark
The moment arrived, as if time itself held its breath. He stepped into the moonlight, the full moon gleaming behind the window where she stood. Time seemed to stop for a moment as his solid strides came to a halt. Her eyes widened in fascination. He was glorious. This man could somehow conjure her, pin her to the ground, or make her kneel and melt before him. Was it possible for something so wicked to be so captivating, so impossibly beautiful? Splendid and mesmerizing! No, no, she must be dreaming.
He stood like a figure carved from midnight itself. His skin, a rich shade of bronze, seemed to glow beneath the light, warm yet untouchable. His jet-black hair, smooth and thick, tumbled in soft waves, with two rogue curls rebelliously framing his chiseled face. His features were etched with perfection, high, sharp cheekbones, a straight nose that cut through the air like a blade, and lips that promised both temptation and restraint. Oh, Gods! She was breathless at the sight of him. But it was his eyes that held her pinned, two pools of golden eyes with red flames shading them, so intense they could freeze the heart or burn it to ash. The very presence of him was a paradox, immortal yet strikingly human, dangerous yet captivating, a walking enigma she could not tear her gaze from.
'He is absolutely dangerous, I'm in trouble.'
On the other side, Ara frowned, not so happy that the prince was a rare scene to behold. A dashing man was an understatement as a compliment. He wasn't the random notorious prince she wanted him to be. He was an intriguing god!
The King grasped Ren's hand, a gesture that should have come from her father. But no one dared to challenge the King's will, and no one spoke for her father either. With a cold finality, the King passed her hand to the prince, who stood like a statue, tall, imposing, and wrapped in a black military royal coat, embroidered with meticulous needlework. His expression was unreadable, a stark contrast to Ren's flustered face, her cheeks flushed deep with embarrassment. She immediately wished she hadn't ogled at him for so long, her nerves bubbling over as she tried to look anywhere but at him.
'Don't look at him, Ren, you fool.' She scolded herself for being so vulnerable.
The pastor droned through the ceremony, his voice barely reaching her as he uttered words like, "May your love bloom tonight and..." But Ren's mind swirled, dizziness and nausea creeping in until his words became nothing more than distant murmurs. The whole thing ended in a blur, yet they insisted she remain on the platform to seal the bond.
The King's expression darkened as he watched the proceedings. He scowled, and a look of revulsion crossed his face as he glanced at the traditions of Thegara.
"Is this really necessary?"