Sora gives a breathy laugh. “You’re right,” she agrees, turning quickly to lead the way.
And I might be imagining it, but I’m pretty sure I caught a glimpse of disappointment on her face.
But I don’t have much time to read into it as we reach the great room, where the master of ceremonies announces our entrance into society as man and wife.
Applause echoes around the marble-gilded room as we make our way to the sweetheart table for dinner.
The food comes out as soon as I’ve thanked the guests for coming to witness the momentous occasion, then we settle in to eat.
It’s the only moment in the evening that we get to catch our breath, and it’s gone in the blink of an eye as the wedding moves on to toasts and dessert as Sora and I cut a massive, five-tiered white almond cake with buttercream frosting and decadent flowers cascading down one side.
The first dance quickly follows, and since Sora and I have been intentionally kept apart because of my antics, we haven’t practiced together at all.
I don’t even know what song she picked.
But when the first haunting notes on the violin begin to play, they echo deep within my soul.
Taking her in my arms, I give her a ballroom frame, and she fits perfectly, her hands resting lightly in my palm and on my shoulder.
She tilts her head back, elongating her neck for the perfect posture of a waltz, and when the rest of the band joins in, I start to guide her around the dance floor.
“What song is this?” I ask, mesmerized by the ethereal feeling of it that somehow matches Sora’s grace like it was made for her.
“‘A Ti Korita Vu,’” she says, her lips curving into a soft smile. “You like it?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s one of the few things I picked personally for today. It’s one of my favorites.”
Something deep inside me squeezes, knowing that this song would be the one she wanted to dance to on her wedding day.
Heat surges through my veins, and I look down at my new bride as if seeing her for the first time, suddenly intensely aware of the way our bodies press together, moving in perfect synchronicity across the dance floor.
She’s a beautiful dancer.
And every moment I’m near her, I want her more.
When our song wraps up, others join us on the dance floor, and the celebration goes late into the night.
It ends with a finale of fireworks set off for everyone to view from the terrace, and when I finally lead Sora away from the reception to my wing of the house, I’m more than ready to be alone with her.
I might not have agreed with this wedding.
I don’t believe in this alliance. But Sora is a singularly beautiful woman.
The fire in her has captured my interest in a way I never thought possible, and tonight, she’s my wife.
All the tension that’s been building between us since the day we met feels as though it’s on the cusp of exploding as I guide her to our room, her hand resting lightly in the crook of my elbow.
She’s quiet, her eyes focused ahead when I glance at her from the corner of my eye, and the energy rolling off her in waves feels nervous.
“This is us,” I say as my assigned guards pull open the double doors, granting us entrance.
They close behind us with a heavy click, leaving us completely alone.
Sora’s eyes widen as she takes in the spacious suite.
It’s decorated in the modern style, with clean lines and simple white against dark grays and black.
