Many young men hated arranged marriages. They all hoped to marry the most beautiful girls of the kingdom, but they ended up disappointed by their parents, who only tried to create ties with the most powerful families for their own benefit. As far as I was concerned, however, I did not care that I couldn't choose my own spouse. I would even go as far as to say I was glad I didn't get to choose.
Sons of lords and ladies became lords themselves, or sometimes knights. They made influential friends, fended off dangerous enemies. They became heroes of their own, protagonists of stories for the generations to come. Bards sang their high deeds, poet turned them into written stories.
I was not like that. I did not possess the wit of a lord. Nor the courage of a knight. I was a simple boy, with low prospects in life. I cowered before the thought of interacting with someone. My parents were disappointed whenever I would be presented to a lord and only stutter when answering them. I failed them, I knew. They made sure I always remember how great my brother was, how much success he had in life. His eloquence was unparalleled.
I knew boys who would talk to anyone, anytime. They were good with the girls. They spoke to them without fear. Many even fucked. I couldn't fathom what that would feel like. I wasn't even able to look a girl in the eyes, much less talk to one, so don't mention sex. My older brother used to make fun of me for my cowardness, until he married and went to war against our enemies.
I always admired my brother. He was a great swordsman and an even greater seducer. He told me had sex with many maids in the castle. He encouraged me to do the same and taught me some tricks, but I could never do it the way he did it. At the last moment, I would run away before actually saying anything to the maids.
Since I couldn't talk to girls, I was glad I did not have to choose my wife myself. My parents made the decision for me, which made it so easy. They arranged everything by themselves. I did not have my word to say. It was understandable they wouldn't want my opinion considering everything I had done (or rather not done). Even the day before the wedding, I still didn't know who my wife would be. I mean, by that time, I had learned her name: Kiella of Greenvale. I knew she was the daughter of some small lord (no great lord wanted to marry their daughter to me). I knew she was around my age. And that was about it.
The wedding took place at Greenvale. I travelled for a week with my parents and my younger sister. The landscape was stunning. I lived on farmlands and it was my first time seeing the mountains. The Sheppard's Range, they called it. They were high mounts of green, looking down on me like the small creature I was. I felt weak.
"Are those the mountains where Rickard attacked the Duke of Thinlake?" asked my younger sister Gabrielle, always curious about the exploits of our big brother.
"They are," answered my father in his deep voice. "It was a great victory he won two weeks ago. He has made us proud."
I sank in my seat. People expected me too to win great battles against our foes, but they knew I wouldn't. It would have been nice, though, if my brother could have come to my wedding. I missed him.
Lord Derryl of Greenvale welcomed us to his city with excessive joy. It was a beautiful place, with vast gardens with blooming flowers. The halls were ornamented with paintings and tapestries made by great artists. Lord Derryl threw a feast in our honor. Now, food, that was something I liked. I didn't eat much, however, I was small and frail. On the other hand, food helped me to escape conversations. During the banquet, Lord Derryl tried to take an interest in me, asking questions about my past, trying to figure out how much of a good match I actually was. I didn't say much, I produced more sounds than words, so I probably made a bad impression. My parents answered questions for me, and soon Lord Derryl lost interest in my person, which I was grateful for.
I scanned the room, but I didn't see my wife-to-be. She was probably preparing herself for the main event. Was she scared? Because I was. Eyes would be on me. I would have to talk. I would have to have sex. All of those were not for me.
After a pork rib and a honey cake, I couldn't eat more. I was too anxious. I heard my parents tell Lord Derryl how I had once defeated some great knight by the name of Lazarus in battle. I didn't know who that knight was, I didn't know any knight at all, in fact. I was confused on why they were making this story up, but I didn't intervene. It made for a change that they said positive things about me.
Anyways, I lost track of time as the evening went by. At some point, my valets took me away so I would change clothes and put some perfume on. I stank, but some people thought perfume smelled good, so whatever. I wasn't one to complain. I put on the rich garments that was brought before me. I had rarely worn something as fancy before.
The ceremony took place shortly after. I was not given enough time to think. I had been told how the thing would go, what would happen, but I still wasn't confident I could remember it all. I was scared I would screw it up. I appeared at the end of the Great Hall of Greenvale and there were more guests here than there had been at the feast. Everyone looked at me. I was paralysed. My father came to stand behind me. He poked my back, forcing me to move forward. I did not close my eyes, but I didn't look at what was happening either. I just sheepishly walked down the aisle towards my bride. It took me some time to actually see her. She was covered by a white veil, hiding her face from me. Was she beautiful? Was she sweet? I didn't want to sound too picky, especially since I didn't try to help my parents in the decision making, but still...
I stopped moving when we faced each other. I could see, behind the pale veil, two eyes of different colors looking at me. One was green, the other one blue. Kiella smiled. I fell in love on the spot. I shouldn't have, I know. I mean, she was my wife, yes, but my brother and my friends would have laughed at me if I had told them I loved a girl like her. Kiella was petite, with a thin body. Her features were delicate, her smile sweet. Her eyes were beautiful. However, she had a small chest and, worse, her face was a horrible mess. Half of her right cheek and of her forehead was burned, covered in red, brown and black scars. Her right eyebrow was missing. Pimples covered what skin she had left on her face. I wasn't supposed to find such an ugly girl so attractive.
The priest talked about Gods and love, but I didn't listen. I was under her spell, completely in awe. I wanted to talk to her, but thankfully it was not expected of me at this moment because I wouldn't have known what to say. I was lost in her eyes. There was some eerie magic to them.
I snapped back to reality when the priest said the words 'may not kiss the bride'. I didn't know how to kiss! Rickard had tried to teach me, but I had never practiced, so I knew I would fail horribly! My bride took a step towards me. I saw her brittle lips getting close. My heart pounded heavily. I closed my eyes and leaned in.
In only lasted for a brief second. Our lips gently made contact, then parted. Her lips had a rough texture, but a somewhat sweet taste. I stood agape as the priest said the final vows. Kiella smiled and I reciprocated shyly. I probably looked like a fool.
The crowd got up and applauded. We turned to face them. My wife rose her hands to wave. I awkwardly did the same, not believing I almost forgot that part.
We were soon escorted to the bedchamber. I was sweating heavily. Kiella took my hand. Her skin was soft and warm. I felt slightly reassured. There were butterflies in my stomach.
The chamber was vast. Light came from lit torches on the wall and from the moon, which shined through an open window. A slight chill blew into the room. Night had fallen. My wife and I both sat on the bed. We then were left alone.
"Hi," I said timidly.
"Hi," answered Kiella. Her voice was soft like silk. It had nothing to do with the roughness of her face.
I was frozen into place. I knew what had to be done next, but I didn't have the courage to take the first step. I was tempted to escape through the open window, but I knew that would only lead me to trouble. Kiella's father would know if she was still a virgin in the morning.
She suddenly caressed my arm, causing me to jerk back. She frowned, confused.
"Sorry," I muttered, not daring to look her in the eyes.
"Don't be," she softly spoke. "It's your first time, isn't it? It's mine too. My expectations are not too high. Let's just do what we have to do and let's not worry. It would be useless to worry."
I shook my head. She was right. I let her gently stroke my arm. Her skin was pale and smooth. I shivered. Her hand reached up my sleeve. She approached me and I almost panicked as I realized she wanted to kiss me. I stayed calm and let her come forward. Our lips met for a second time. This time, though, it lasted for more than just a second. I didn't move, only processing what was happening. Her coarse lips tasted like caramel. I didn't mind their texture. Electricity was running through my body. After a few seconds, she backed up, looked me in the eyes. I stared too. Despite her disfigured features, she was the cutest girl I had ever met.
"Don't be shy," she said. "Kiss me back."
My eyes widened. I had not moved at all. I must have looked like such a fool. I blamed myself. Mustering my courage, I leaned in. We kissed again. We. It felt great. I understood now what my brother meant with his stories about the maids. I understood what he liked so much about girls. Although there was still more I had yet to discover.