Chapter 132: 132
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Those words linger in the air between us, embittering the hazy air of romance with a grim reality. It could have gone a lot worse, sure it could have. But for now, I am stronger, I am alive, and with Soren by my side, that is all that counts.
Considering our time bathing as sufficiently complete, or perhaps deciding to bring an end to the rigid silence that has fallen between us, Soren scoops me up and- despite my protests, walks us up to the bank of land. Half clothed and drenched, the steadily cooling air of the night feels like ice against my skin in comparison to the warmth of the lake, and I shiver inadvertently, my protests dying down into a low and insistent murmur as I bring my arm across my to shield myself from the wind. For all the Prince's kindness, he does his very best to keep me warm, his sturdy arms blocking the onslaught of icy wind from my bare skin. Once again finding ourselves under the shade of the willow, Soren sets me down for a moment to get his bearings. Just as I am about to protest my lack of substantive clothing, there comes a fervent snap of his slender fingers, and in an instant he has us both clothed.
I jolt a little at the feeling, drawing my arms around myself instinctively.
Hesitantly, I look at the lengthy flared white dress that now adorns me, all lacey petticoats and veil, flaring outwards like a flower in bloom, synched tightly in at the waist so that- had I not worn such garments before, I might have almost struggled to breathe. The dress is open backed (a clever decision), allowing my wings to stretch freely out behind me, my feathers catching on the soft breaths of wind that whistle around us. Petals fly up from the ground, caught from the garden of roses in a whirlwind of purple.
It is a beautiful scene. I stretch out my hand, gazing in wonder at the rest of the dress.
The sleeves are composed of a delicate white lace, patterned to form many overlapping roses that fade out towards my wrists, ending in a pair of gold wreathed cuffs. The dress itself is adorned with faint purple roses that rise up from the hem, twisting and winding into thorns and pointed leaves, swaying and snaking up to play around one side of the dress. It is a beautiful dress, granted, but certainly not one I expected to be dressed in here. Straining to get a grip on the silky fabric, I do my best to lift up the numerous array of petticoats from the ground, away from the mud. In this sort of outfit, I should be dancing in a ballroom, not in a garden of roses.
Soren, however, is dressed in a white flared shirt, half the buttons popped open to reveal the white, lean planes of his chest- so very characteristically vampire. He wears a court coat that is such a dark blue it appears almost black under the twilight of the night, the velvety fabric adorned with the sweet embroidery of golden roses, and in his pocket, a purple rose sits, still dewy from the freshness of the former evening. His trousers are tucked into his lengthy black boots, and a silver chain swings at his hip, laced over his belt in a manner that might seem menacing in any other situation.
As any vampire would in such an outfit, he looks gorgeous. But the dazzling smile he gives me paints a much more beautiful picture as he bows low, offering his hand out to me. In that moment, my breath leaves my throat.
But what exactly is the meaning of this?
Hesitantly I look down at myself, then back at him, hands splayed in confusion, bewilderment plastering my face like cement on a brick.
"Why do I look like I am about to start a wedding dance," I joke light-heartedly, lifting up the frills of my dress to survey the extent of my own flamboyancy, letting each one drop like individual sheets of water between my fingers, and wondering with a twinge of curiosity where such a beautiful dress was obtained from. The work looks of elven hand, but even then there is something more to it. Some unexplainable quality that moves in the ripples of the fabric, some ethereal solidarity to the rising coils of roses and thorns that twist themselves up to encompass my bodice.
This dress makes me feel not just like an angel, but a vampire too.
Soren slides forwards, his movements light, airy, and so indescribably smooth, the epitome of a vampire. His hands slide into mine and he pulls me into a steady waltz, and I feel my being fall into his same elusive rhythm, my newly half turned body testing the limits of capacity. His body sways against mine, skin against skin, his hand pressed lightly against my lower back, drawing me to him.
"That's because you are," he murmurs hotly against my ear, breath tickling over my skin. Our waltz flows out under the moonlight, letting the sullen silver rays press against the paleness of our skin, the wind singing its song of harmony as it rustles through the beds of roses and soft wisps of grass, rising up into the sky in a symphony of sounds. A night like this is a beautiful night for a wedding. My wings flare behind me. My eyes widen.
"Are you-"
"I'm asking you to marry me, Serena. Right here, right now."
My face flushes an impossible red. I lower my face slightly.
Now? But I haven't even prepared! I barely have had time to think about such an event, let alone do it. It's not that I don't want to, but...
"But we are already being mated, at the end of this month, you arranged it," I protest half heartedly, that hot flush still playing upon the rise of my cheeks, my body glowing with an ardent blaze of gold and obvious fluster. I make to pull away, but his hand grips tighter on my waist, holding me steady as we twirl through the gardens, dancing to a long since parted melody.
"I promised myself," he whispers, bringing my hand slyly up to his lips, brushing them boldly against the pale white of my skin, claiming each inch with a series of wet-lipped kisses.
"That if you lived, I would not have you marry me entrapped and hidden under the watchful gaze of my kind. I want to marry you as you, and not under some guise of who you were pretending to be. Of course, if now is not the time, if you don't want to, I understand. I know it's a lot of pressure. I just... I want to see my Queen, all of her," he adds, giving me a poignant look as he lifts my chin under his gloved finger. My heart pounds frantically in my chest- both from exhilaration, and fear. Our waltz depletes to an impossibly slow sway and I find myself hardly baring to keep his gaze from the intensity of it, forced to look away at the feathery planes of grass, at the blossoming purple roses, anything, just to save myself the fluster.
"Please look at me, Serena," he says, almost pleadingly, his hands dropping down to plant firmly on the dip of my waist, golden eyes glowering with a noiseless plea. I glance up shyly.
"I didn't expect the king of vampires to be so considerate," I admit, "or," I add, hesitating on the words as I mull them over in my mouth. "So sweet. Of course I will marry you, you idiot."
Soren's delicate lips curve into an upwards smile.
"Serena," he says, sliding his hands into my own as he brings one up to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on my pale skin, his black clawed nails enclosed around me, as if fearful of letting go. Coils of black and gold encircle our hands, binding us together in a manner that seems somehow oddly familiar, as if once upon a time, the very same thing had happened before. My body jolts into life, pulsing with a triumphant golden aura as Soren utters the next few words.
"Will you take me, the Scarlet Prince of Sezeria, Soren Ventrue, as your mate?" For a moment, my mouth refuses to move, stuck with the monumental notion of saying those two words that would bind my fate forever.
"I will," comes my at last whispered reply. In tandem with my words the snaking coils of Soren's shadowy light spin themselves between our joined hands, a section branching off to twirl temporarily around my finger, before solidifying into a ornate silver ring, studded with an amethyst rose that glitters like the fragments of fallen stars under the light of the half moon. I stare at it for a moment, almost unable to comprehend the situation, half shocked at what I am about to say and half flustered over the softness of Soren's gaze as he rubs his thumb over my fingers, nodding his reassurance. I take a breath.
"Will you take me, the angel Queen of Illistrae, Serena Silvershadow, as your mate?"
Soren bows his head slightly.
"I will."
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Those words linger in the air between us, embittering the hazy air of romance with a grim reality. It could have gone a lot worse, sure it could have. But for now, I am stronger, I am alive, and with Soren by my side, that is all that counts.
Considering our time bathing as sufficiently complete, or perhaps deciding to bring an end to the rigid silence that has fallen between us, Soren scoops me up and- despite my protests, walks us up to the bank of land. Half clothed and drenched, the steadily cooling air of the night feels like ice against my skin in comparison to the warmth of the lake, and I shiver inadvertently, my protests dying down into a low and insistent murmur as I bring my arm across my to shield myself from the wind. For all the Prince's kindness, he does his very best to keep me warm, his sturdy arms blocking the onslaught of icy wind from my bare skin. Once again finding ourselves under the shade of the willow, Soren sets me down for a moment to get his bearings. Just as I am about to protest my lack of substantive clothing, there comes a fervent snap of his slender fingers, and in an instant he has us both clothed.
I jolt a little at the feeling, drawing my arms around myself instinctively.
Hesitantly, I look at the lengthy flared white dress that now adorns me, all lacey petticoats and veil, flaring outwards like a flower in bloom, synched tightly in at the waist so that- had I not worn such garments before, I might have almost struggled to breathe. The dress is open backed (a clever decision), allowing my wings to stretch freely out behind me, my feathers catching on the soft breaths of wind that whistle around us. Petals fly up from the ground, caught from the garden of roses in a whirlwind of purple.
It is a beautiful scene. I stretch out my hand, gazing in wonder at the rest of the dress.
The sleeves are composed of a delicate white lace, patterned to form many overlapping roses that fade out towards my wrists, ending in a pair of gold wreathed cuffs. The dress itself is adorned with faint purple roses that rise up from the hem, twisting and winding into thorns and pointed leaves, swaying and snaking up to play around one side of the dress. It is a beautiful dress, granted, but certainly not one I expected to be dressed in here. Straining to get a grip on the silky fabric, I do my best to lift up the numerous array of petticoats from the ground, away from the mud. In this sort of outfit, I should be dancing in a ballroom, not in a garden of roses.
Soren, however, is dressed in a white flared shirt, half the buttons popped open to reveal the white, lean planes of his chest- so very characteristically vampire. He wears a court coat that is such a dark blue it appears almost black under the twilight of the night, the velvety fabric adorned with the sweet embroidery of golden roses, and in his pocket, a purple rose sits, still dewy from the freshness of the former evening. His trousers are tucked into his lengthy black boots, and a silver chain swings at his hip, laced over his belt in a manner that might seem menacing in any other situation.
As any vampire would in such an outfit, he looks gorgeous. But the dazzling smile he gives me paints a much more beautiful picture as he bows low, offering his hand out to me. In that moment, my breath leaves my throat.
But what exactly is the meaning of this?
Hesitantly I look down at myself, then back at him, hands splayed in confusion, bewilderment plastering my face like cement on a brick.
"Why do I look like I am about to start a wedding dance," I joke light-heartedly, lifting up the frills of my dress to survey the extent of my own flamboyancy, letting each one drop like individual sheets of water between my fingers, and wondering with a twinge of curiosity where such a beautiful dress was obtained from. The work looks of elven hand, but even then there is something more to it. Some unexplainable quality that moves in the ripples of the fabric, some ethereal solidarity to the rising coils of roses and thorns that twist themselves up to encompass my bodice.
This dress makes me feel not just like an angel, but a vampire too.
Soren slides forwards, his movements light, airy, and so indescribably smooth, the epitome of a vampire. His hands slide into mine and he pulls me into a steady waltz, and I feel my being fall into his same elusive rhythm, my newly half turned body testing the limits of capacity. His body sways against mine, skin against skin, his hand pressed lightly against my lower back, drawing me to him.
"That's because you are," he murmurs hotly against my ear, breath tickling over my skin. Our waltz flows out under the moonlight, letting the sullen silver rays press against the paleness of our skin, the wind singing its song of harmony as it rustles through the beds of roses and soft wisps of grass, rising up into the sky in a symphony of sounds. A night like this is a beautiful night for a wedding. My wings flare behind me. My eyes widen.
"Are you-"
"I'm asking you to marry me, Serena. Right here, right now."
My face flushes an impossible red. I lower my face slightly.
Now? But I haven't even prepared! I barely have had time to think about such an event, let alone do it. It's not that I don't want to, but...
"But we are already being mated, at the end of this month, you arranged it," I protest half heartedly, that hot flush still playing upon the rise of my cheeks, my body glowing with an ardent blaze of gold and obvious fluster. I make to pull away, but his hand grips tighter on my waist, holding me steady as we twirl through the gardens, dancing to a long since parted melody.
"I promised myself," he whispers, bringing my hand slyly up to his lips, brushing them boldly against the pale white of my skin, claiming each inch with a series of wet-lipped kisses.
"That if you lived, I would not have you marry me entrapped and hidden under the watchful gaze of my kind. I want to marry you as you, and not under some guise of who you were pretending to be. Of course, if now is not the time, if you don't want to, I understand. I know it's a lot of pressure. I just... I want to see my Queen, all of her," he adds, giving me a poignant look as he lifts my chin under his gloved finger. My heart pounds frantically in my chest- both from exhilaration, and fear. Our waltz depletes to an impossibly slow sway and I find myself hardly baring to keep his gaze from the intensity of it, forced to look away at the feathery planes of grass, at the blossoming purple roses, anything, just to save myself the fluster.
"Please look at me, Serena," he says, almost pleadingly, his hands dropping down to plant firmly on the dip of my waist, golden eyes glowering with a noiseless plea. I glance up shyly.
"I didn't expect the king of vampires to be so considerate," I admit, "or," I add, hesitating on the words as I mull them over in my mouth. "So sweet. Of course I will marry you, you idiot."
Soren's delicate lips curve into an upwards smile.
"Serena," he says, sliding his hands into my own as he brings one up to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on my pale skin, his black clawed nails enclosed around me, as if fearful of letting go. Coils of black and gold encircle our hands, binding us together in a manner that seems somehow oddly familiar, as if once upon a time, the very same thing had happened before. My body jolts into life, pulsing with a triumphant golden aura as Soren utters the next few words.
"Will you take me, the Scarlet Prince of Sezeria, Soren Ventrue, as your mate?" For a moment, my mouth refuses to move, stuck with the monumental notion of saying those two words that would bind my fate forever.
"I will," comes my at last whispered reply. In tandem with my words the snaking coils of Soren's shadowy light spin themselves between our joined hands, a section branching off to twirl temporarily around my finger, before solidifying into a ornate silver ring, studded with an amethyst rose that glitters like the fragments of fallen stars under the light of the half moon. I stare at it for a moment, almost unable to comprehend the situation, half shocked at what I am about to say and half flustered over the softness of Soren's gaze as he rubs his thumb over my fingers, nodding his reassurance. I take a breath.
"Will you take me, the angel Queen of Illistrae, Serena Silvershadow, as your mate?"
Soren bows his head slightly.
"I will."
Those words linger in the air between us, embittering the hazy air of romance with a grim reality. It could have gone a lot worse, sure it could have. But for now, I am stronger, I am alive, and with Soren by my side, that is all that counts.Considering our time bathing as sufficiently complete, or perhaps deciding to bring an end to the rigid silence that has fallen between us, Soren scoops me up and- despite my protests, walks us up to the bank of land. Half clothed and drenched, the steadily cooling air of the night feels like ice against my skin in comparison to the warmth of the lake, and I shiver inadvertently, my protests dying down into a low and insistent murmur as I bring my arm across my to shield myself from the wind. For all the Prince's kindness, he does his very best to keep me warm, his sturdy arms blocking the onslaught of icy wind from my bare skin. Once again finding ourselves under the shade of the willow, Soren sets me down for a moment to get his bearings. Just as I am about to protest my lack of substantive clothing, there comes a fervent snap of his slender fingers, and in an instant he has us both clothed.I jolt a little at the feeling, drawing my arms around myself instinctively.Hesitantly, I look at the lengthy flared white dress that now adorns me, all lacey petticoats and veil, flaring outwards like a flower in bloom, synched tightly in at the waist so that- had I not worn such garments before, I might have almost struggled to breathe. The dress is open backed a clever decision, allowing my wings to stretch freely out behind me, my feathers catching on the soft breaths of wind that whistle around us. Petals fly up from the ground, caught from the garden of roses in a whirlwind of purple.It is a beautiful scene. I stretch out my hand, gazing in wonder at the rest of the dress.The sleeves are composed of a delicate white lace, patterned to form many overlapping roses that fade out towards my wrists, ending in a pair of gold wreathed cuffs. The dress itself is adorned with faint purple roses that rise up from the hem, twisting and winding into thorns and pointed leaves, swaying and snaking up to play around one side of the dress. It is a beautiful dress, granted, but certainly not one I expected to be dressed in here. Straining to get a grip on the silky fabric, I do my best to lift up the numerous array of petticoats from the ground, away from the mud. In this sort of outfit, I should be dancing in a ballroom, not in a garden of roses.Soren, however, is dressed in a white flared shirt, half the buttons popped open to reveal the white, lean planes of his chest- so very characteristically vampire. He wears a court coat that is such a dark blue it appears almost black under the twilight of the night, the velvety fabric adorned with the sweet embroidery of golden roses, and in his pocket, a purple rose sits, still dewy from the freshness of the former evening. His trousers are tucked into his lengthy black boots, and a silver chain swings at his hip, laced over his belt in a manner that might seem menacing in any other situation. As any vampire would in such an outfit, he looks gorgeous. But the dazzling smile he gives me paints a much more beautiful picture as he bows low, offering his hand out to me. In that moment, my breath leaves my throat.But what exactly is the meaning of this?Hesitantly I look down at myself, then back at him, hands splayed in confusion, bewilderment plastering my face like cement on a brick. "Why do I look like I am about to start a wedding dance," I joke light-heartedly, lifting up the frills of my dress to survey the extent of my own flamboyancy, letting each one drop like individual sheets of water between my fingers, and wondering with a twinge of curiosity where such a beautiful dress was obtained from. The work looks of elven hand, but even then there is something more to it. Some unexplainable quality that moves in the ripples of the fabric, some ethereal solidarity to the rising coils of roses and thorns that twist themselves up to encompass my bodice. This dress makes me feel not just like an angel, but a vampire too.Soren slides forwards, his movements light, airy, and so indescribably smooth, the epitome of a vampire. His hands slide into mine and he pulls me into a steady waltz, and I feel my being fall into his same elusive rhythm, my newly half turned body testing the limits of capacity. His body sways against mine, skin against skin, his hand pressed lightly against my lower back, drawing me to him."That's because you are," he murmurs hotly against my ear, breath tickling over my skin. Our waltz flows out under the moonlight, letting the sullen silver rays press against the paleness of our skin, the wind singing its song of harmony as it rustles through the beds of roses and soft wisps of grass, rising up into the sky in a symphony of sounds. A night like this is a beautiful night for a wedding. My wings flare behind me. My eyes widen."Are you-""I'm asking you to marry me, Serena. Right here, right now."My face flushes an impossible red. I lower my face slightly. Now? But I haven't even prepared! I barely have had time to think about such an event, let alone do it. It's not that I don't want to, but..."But we are already being mated, at the end of this month, you arranged it," I protest half heartedly, that hot flush still playing upon the rise of my cheeks, my body glowing with an ardent blaze of gold and obvious fluster. I make to pull away, but his hand grips tighter on my waist, holding me steady as we twirl through the gardens, dancing to a long since parted melody."I promised myself," he whispers, bringing my hand slyly up to his lips, brushing them boldly against the pale white of my skin, claiming each inch with a series of wet-lipped kisses."That if you lived, I would not have you marry me entrapped and hidden under the watchful gaze of my kind. I want to marry you as you, and not under some guise of who you were pretending to be. Of course, if now is not the time, if you don't want to, I understand. I know it's a lot of pressure. I just... I want to see my Queen, all of her," he adds, giving me a poignant look as he lifts my chin under his gloved finger. My heart pounds frantically in my chest- both from exhilaration, and fear. Our waltz depletes to an impossibly slow sway and I find myself hardly baring to keep his gaze from the intensity of it, forced to look away at the feathery planes of grass, at the blossoming purple roses, anything, just to save myself the fluster."Please look at me, Serena," he says, almost pleadingly, his hands dropping down to plant firmly on the dip of my waist, golden eyes glowering with a noiseless plea. I glance up shyly."I didn't expect the king of vampires to be so considerate," I admit, "or," I add, hesitating on the words as I mull them over in my mouth. "So sweet. Of course I will marry you, you idiot."Soren's delicate lips curve into an upwards smile."Serena," he says, sliding his hands into my own as he brings one up to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on my pale skin, his black clawed nails enclosed around me, as if fearful of letting go. Coils of black and gold encircle our hands, binding us together in a manner that seems somehow oddly familiar, as if once upon a time, the very same thing had happened before. My body jolts into life, pulsing with a triumphant golden aura as Soren utters the next few words."Will you take me, the Scarlet Prince of Sezeria, Soren Ventrue, as your mate?" For a moment, my mouth refuses to move, stuck with the monumental notion of saying those two words that would bind my fate forever."I will," comes my at last whispered reply. In tandem with my words the snaking coils of Soren's shadowy light spin themselves between our joined hands, a section branching off to twirl temporarily around my finger, before solidifying into a ornate silver ring, studded with an amethyst rose that glitters like the fragments of fallen stars under the light of the half moon. I stare at it for a moment, almost unable to comprehend the situation, half shocked at what I am about to say and half flustered over the softness of Soren's gaze as he rubs his thumb over my fingers, nodding his reassurance. I take a breath. "Will you take me, the angel Queen of Illistrae, Serena Silvershadow, as your mate?"Soren bows his head slightly."I will."
