One Hundred refusals (22)

A serialised romantic fantasy

Previously…Chapter 21

“I commend your resilience, Lord Ashier, but I’m afraid, it won’t last longer than a couple of days,” said Gema, sitting on the blackwood desk of the King’s study. She held a soft feather in her hand, and tickled Ash’s neck down to his chest, while the poor Snakeling attempted to sort out the responses to their wedding invitations. The royal wedding was set in two weeks. Gema would not wait any longer, the castle exploded in hasty wedding preparations. They sent the invitations early on.

“Gema, dear,” Ash replied, tugging his collar tighter to avoid the feather, “you shall wait. Only a week, and a half left. I’m sure you’ll manage,” his voice was cold, nearly indifferent, while he kept himself busy, reading the letters.

“Oh, it won’t be me, but you, my dearest, who’ll slither into my chamber before the wedding, I assure you.”

Gema’s dress was a bit too revealing, yet she didn’t care. Ash blushed at the sight of her, and she considered it a win.

“Did we not invite the Queen of Northsanguis? There are no guests from the North,” Ash pondered out loud.

“No, I did not. You know how they call that tyrant? The Bloodhound Queen!”

“They say she’s a beauty,” Ash grinned with great delight, and watched Gema scoffing.

“I cannot believe this. Remember that bastard Lord Sturdy? He was her vassal, her boot-licking mutt,” Gema muttered, “I would not be surprised if attacking Hebeny was her idea to test our strengths.”

Ash frowned. “If you are right, my dear, then we might be in trouble, indeed.”

“Oh, don’t let such dark ponderings cloud our happiness.” Gema bent lower, and her majestic cleavage deprived Ash from any trace of concentration. He hurriedly grabbed the next letter, only to gasp at its content. He read turning paler each second.

“It’s from my father.”

“What does he say?” Gema slid off the table. The matter was obviously serious.

“I am banished from the Snakeling island forever. I am no longer considered an heir, and therefore I am no longer my father’s son…” Ash got up, pale as a ghost.

“Oh, no… Forgive me, Ash! It’s my fault. I never wanted… I shouldn’t have kissed you in public!” Gema exclaimed, holding his cold hands.

“No. His spies had known about us… he heard the rumours. Our kiss only proved the undeniable. He tried to conceal it from the Snakeling Elders as long as he could.” Ash hung his head. “He is right. I am a corrupted man, not worthy of my father’s trust. My cousin shall take the throne of Snakelings. I have lost my home.”

“Forgive me, forgive me, Ash!” Gema whispered, tears running down her cheeks like pearls. She kissed Ash’s lips to comfort him. Soon enough kisses of comfort burned with hot passion, after Ash hadn’t touched her for whole four days! The desperate Snakeling lost his cool, he pushed Gema onto the large desk, and it would’ve ended as an early wedding night, (for what was there left to lose?), if it wasn’t for Cinnia knocking on the door.

“My Lady Gema? Are you in there? It is time for the fitting.”

“Yes…thank you, Cin! I’m coming.”

Ash released her.

“Forgive me, Gema, I lost my cool…”

“I must go. The wedding dress fitting is extremely important. But…I will not refuse you, should you visit me tonight…” Gema kissed him tenderly.

“I won’t. Not for my reputation. It’s lost. But I believe we deserve a night to remember. A proper wedding night, with the Foreverold’s blessing.”

“Oh, Lord Ashier,” Gema smiled at him with tears of happiness in her eyes, “you are an amazing man. I could’ve never imagined your devious mind hides such a gentle heart underneath dark curses, and wicked schemes.”

Ash couldn’t help but laugh heartily.

“Promise me, that our wedding night will be the most beautiful night of our lives!” Gema begged with her lips touching his softly.

“I promise. Nothing will stop us,” he replied.

“Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Nothing. No force or power. Not even a fire-breathing dragon,” Ash said, and both kissed until Cinnia knocked again.

***

Two days prior, the un-crowned but the real Queen Geminaris of Hebeny had invited a very peculiar party to join her court. It was a band of elderly ladies, led by an old gentleman, stately, yet grey. Lord Trouser was his name, and the court erupted with new rumours; they said he was a former brothel owner, which made all the ladies he brought with him - old whores…. But Gema never listened to the silly murmurs of the court. She greeted Lord Trouser, who stood shocked in the castle’s courtyard, where the posh royal carriages had left him, and the ladies.

“Gema, you never lied! You are…”

“The rightful queen of Hebeny, dear Lord Trouser. I am so glad you agreed to come. The court is in desperate need of more seamstresses, and you as their guardian, and my friend, are welcome to stay here as long as you wish,” said Gema heartily. Of course, living in a beautiful castle was more comfortable than a mouldy old whorehouse, and the Lord even shed a tear of gratitude. No longer would he be worried about the taxes to pay, and the food to put on the table. Gema only wished that the ladies would work as seamstresses as long as they wanted, and she had a very special request to Lord Trouser.

“Since my dear father, King Ulrich has passed into the blessed realms of the Foreverold, would you be so kind and lead me to my groom at the wedding Ceremony? You have been like a father to me, ever since I walked into your house,” said Gema.

“It would be the greatest honour,” the poor grey Lord couldn’t stop the tears running down his cheeks.

***

Three young women stood by three large mirrors in the Queen’s chamber, while the new royal seamstresses hovered around them, making adjustments to their gowns.

“Cin, you do realize you cannot call me “My Lady” anymore, or run to fetch me like a maid,” Gema said, smiling at Cinnia’s reflection in the mirror, “ you are to become the queen of Avem in a week and a half.”

“Not really, my La… I mean, Gema. Me and Sturnus are to be crowned in Avem, after the ceremony here.”

“Not that it matters. You had the pleasure to enjoy the benefits of married women early on,” Gema snickered, while Cinnia blushed in deep red.

“And you, my sister Pear. I have heard the dirtiest rumours, that Lord Valeur has been visiting your chamber every single night,” Gema addressed Pear.

“We are married, and…oh…I cannot refuse my husband, can I? The royal wedding ceremony is merely a formality,” she stuttered, even more red than Cinnia.

“For some lucky ladies here, yes…”Gema said with a deep sigh, “while I’m cursed to wait.”

“Oh, my Lady, I mean Gema. I believe it is the sweetest curse, and I have no doubt, you will be more than pleased when it’s lifted,” Cinnia chirped, all three looked at their beauteous reflections, and laughed.