Decoration

The palace was abuzz with activity as servants ushered in vases of fragrant flowers, hung glittering crystals from the ceilings, and arranged paintings along the walls. The air seemed to vibrate with excitement as King Nashir issued command after command to make the wedding of a lifetime a lavish affair. Everywhere his eye landed, a new extravagance sparkled. There was handcrafted furniture, fine china, hundreds of candles, and a flurry of servants to ensure that the stunning spectacle would mesmerize all the nobles in attendance.

Khari’s nerves intensified as the wedding day crept closer. She wanted to marry Azim more than anything, but Wren’s reaction to the news was a looming cloud of concern. As the royal tailor took her measurements, Azim entered her chambers, and the tailor stepped back, bowing discreetly before leaving them alone in the room.

Azim leaned against the door, his eyes trailing down her figure, the curves of her body emphasized in the sunlight spilling through the balcony. His voice was deep and full of longing as he said, “I can’t wait to marry you again.” He never looked away, standing completely still as if mesmerized and captivated by her presence.

Khari’s eyes lit up, and a mischievous smile spread across her lips. “I know,” she said excitedly. “This time, it’ll be much grander.”

Azim strolled over to her, his eyes twinkling in anticipation. He gently took her hands in his and smiled. “Once we’re married,” he said, “you can move your things into my room and make it our own.”

Khari opened her mouth, “Oh, I don’t want to intrude...” but he quickly interrupted her.

“It’s not an intrusion,” he laughed, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes twinkling affectionately. “It’s a privilege. I don’t plan on being those King and Queens with separate bed chambers,” he said, pulling her closer. “I want us to share everything, including a bed every night.”

Khari’s cheeks flushed, and she leaned into him, her hands resting on the small of his back. “I like that idea,” she murmured.

“I love you, Khari,” Azim said, leaning in and kissing her passionately.

His heart soared as she said, “I love you too.” He felt like he was in a trance, and the love emanating from her filled him with a warmth he’d never felt before.

Azim felt the heat in his veins as he ran his hands through Khari’s hair. His lips were working their magic when a light but persistent knock on the door broke their embrace. Azim drew back, frustration creasing his brow. “Go away!” he shouted in vain, but the knocking persisted.

The muscles in his shoulders flexed as he released her. He sighed in exasperation as he turned and marched to the door, his face tight with irritation. “What is it?” he asked with a clipped tone.

The royal tailor carefully bowed low, hands tucked in the sleeves of a light woolen tunic. “Your Majesty, if I may beg your forgiveness for a moment,” she said softly, “I’m missing one final measurement for Miss Khari’s wedding dress.”

“Can’t it wait?” Azim’s pulse quickened as he drank in the sight of his bride, standing before him in a lace slip. He could barely contain himself as his eyes grazed her soft curves and plump lips. He wanted to reach out and touch her delicate skin, to feel its warmth against his own.

The tailor wrung her hands nervously, “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” the tailor stammered, “but we’re running out of time to finish this dress.”

“Fine,” he relented.

Khari stepped towards him and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Her voice cracked as she whispered, “I’ll see you later?”

“Yes, I’ll be back soon,” he said as he bent down, planted a tender kiss on her forehead, then stepped away, leaving them to finish her dress measurements.

Just as Azim turned the corner down the hallway, Wren came around the corner in the opposite direction, and they collided with a thud. The crash caused them both to stumble backward, and Wren steadied himself and glared at Azim. “Watch where you’re going,” he said gruffly.

Azim’s brows furrowed, and he took a step back as he said, “I could tell you the same thing,” before attempting to sidestep his brother.

Wren’s fingers bit into Azim’s arm as he forced him to face him. His eyes were steely, his voice cold. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Marrying Khari from right under me.”

Azim shot his brother a skeptical look, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah, because when I decided to marry the woman I love, I thought ‘this would stick it to Wren,’” he said in a low rumble. He paused and stepped forward, squaring his shoulders as he looked down at Wren. “What tricks do you have up your sleeve, brother?”

“None,” Wren stated.

“I don’t believe you,” Azim replied.

“What do you want me to do? This is quite the coup. You’ve gotten the Royals’ and people’s support, and marrying Khari seals it. I’m powerless here,” Wren stated.

Azim asked, “And you’re okay with that? Just giving up? After everything you’ve done to try and stop us from being together.” The silence in the hall was deafening as the two men stared each other down.

Wren met his gaze; his green eyes narrowed in determination. “For her,” he said, a hint of steel in his voice. “I would do anything. Even if it means sacrificing the throne and my future role as King.”

Azim stared at him, his mouth agape, unsure if he should take him seriously. He read all the tells in Wren’s gaze. A subtle shift in the slope of his eyebrows and the flush of his cheeks made him believe that maybe this was real. Azim clenched his teeth and uttered a simple, “We’ll see.” Then he slowly turned on his heel and left Wren standing alone in the hallway, his words hanging heavy in the air.

Azim trudged down the hall and pushed open the door to his bedroom. His eyes widened when he beheld his soldiers gathered in the room. His old bed, which had been a source of comfort for so many years, had been replaced by a luxurious cherry wood four-poster bed with rich cream curtains draped across the top. His entire arsenal of weapons had been transferred to a large mahogany wardrobe, and his bearskin blanket had been neatly folded and laid out on the couch in front of the fireplace.

One of the men gestured to the walls draped in animal skins and weapon displays. “You have no idea how to make this room less….warrior-like,” he said, “So, we’ve changed a few things to make it more comfortable for Khari.”

“I see,” Azim scanned the area, pleased with how much more inviting the space looked. He met the gaze of each of his men, warmed by their acceptance of Khari. They had come to accept her wholeheartedly, and Azim was grateful. An unfamiliar lump of emotion lodged in his throat, and he cleared it before speaking. “Thank you,” he said huskily.

The man’s deep, gravelly voice broke the silence as he nodded and said, “You’re welcome, sir.” All the others around him exclaimed in agreement and nodded approvingly. As they filed out of the room, leaving him alone in the space, they each flashed a brief smile and gave a respectful nod before closing the door behind them.