Eloise
The wedding happened so fast like a blink of an eye. I never expected it to take place in less than a week— I mean, it's so sudden that I didn't get to process things properly. Everything happened in England. Everybody was there. Mom couldn't stop crying and all of that.
It was like.....a bit of rush, I guess. George on the other hand was not taking things slow. It almost felt like his life saver rely on the wedding itself. He was happy. Much more happier than I've ever seen him before.
He didn't want to waste more time prolonging the wedding dates, arrangements and all of that. He was here and there, organising things and Maverick was supporting him too. Running everywhere like a traffic organiser.
And I was like: why can't we take it slow? Maybe by then we can organise everything properly.
But his only response was: time is expensive.
And I get to figure that out myself. And also to find out that it wasn't just a wedding in a grand style, but a Royal Wedding-Coronation Day.
Yes. It was also the coronation day. A day where I get to become the crown queen and he becomes the king. To me, it was all in one. Too much tension for me. Apart from the fact we'll be wedded at the altar, I'll also be introduced to his people as his wife and queen.
His sister Alice was right with me, supervising even the slightest things. Although we had the whole shit handed directly to the event organisers, but still, both families still decided to help.
The queen was putting up with a few changes later, deciding which colour suits best for the décor and the perfect wedding gown that do suit right on me.
Honestly, everything felt like a dream to me. I couldn't believe it was my wedding keeping everybody busy, even the queen herself wasn't left out.
Alice, my sweet girl. The only princess in this magnificent wonderland. Still hot and bubbly in her middle twenties. The moment brought me closer to her where I got to know her better. She was not the kind of girl with the bad influence. She always comes out with something positive and of a great instinct. I heard she's dating a duke in the neighboring country and he is yet to propose.
While Gabriel? I thought that one was gonna be the jealous type, or moreover like the rival brothers I used to see in the movies but he was just the opposite of my assumption.
He was nice but strict. Too strict to be vulnerable. He doesn't talk much but whenever he does, you'll get the lesson. George said he wondered how his girlfriend manages to cope with him without a single complain.
And there comes his royal majesty. The empire of this great nation. The king himself. I think we've only been opportune to talk once or twice, I guess. He is just a man of power and audacity. Just like George. No difference. Persistent with small talks. Same blue eyes, except Gabriel and Alice who took their mother's grey eyes.
After the wedding and coronation, I was in my chamber. On a normal recence, I'd call it room if I was home in Zürich. But now, things have changed. I'm not going back to dad's house to stay anymore. I'm the new queen of this great nation. The people here are now my people and where the new king stand, is where I stand too. My sense of humour would have to also change. Starting from how I see things, how I walk, how I dress, how I eat, how I talk and how I interact with people. Everything. In fact, I even get to resign from my job totally. Yeah, surprised? Well, not my choice. I guess some things are also meant to be left behind.
I somehow missed my bedroom way back home. I had done my best efforts in bringing out the best in it and now, I was leaving it forever. All my doll houses and toys I once had when growing up as a kid had all been packed into a box and kept somewhere I don't know. It was really heartbreaking but one needs to grow up and move on in life.
The chamber smelled faintly of roses and candle wax, every flame dancing against the carved walls as though celebrating with us. My wedding gown had been long switched into a soft silk robe, but my heart was still racing as if the vows had just been spoken.
Yes, the vows. It's not like the usual vows couple swore to take in front of the holy altar and the archbishop. This one has to do with blood oath taking, promising vows and all of that. It was literally royal in its own way. Something that the both of us has to be submissive and committed to each other until the very last day of our breath.
I stood by the window, staring out at England's midnight glory—London lit like scattered diamonds below, the Thames shimmering like liquid silver. My hand clutched the curtain, as if holding on to it might steady me.
And then—I felt something from behind me.
His arms. Strong. Sure. Wrapping around my waist from behind, pulling me flush against the warmth of his chest.
I gasped. "George…" because I wasn't expecting him so sudden and even in my room— oh, sorry. I mean, chamber.
His lips grazed my ear as he whispered, "You're trembling."
I shiver. God, I shiver.
"I didn't hear you come in." My voice was small, breathless.
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against my back. "You were lost in thought. Tell me—what were you thinking of?"
What was I thinking of?
I shook my head quickly. "Nothing."
It's not even the first time we've been this close but tonight was making me shiver. Like a newbie and maybe, I was.
He turned me over, gently in his arms, his hand tilting my chin upward. His eyes, those impossibly intense blue eyes, locked onto mine. "Don't lie to your husband, Eloise."
Husband?
The word 'husband' sent a rush through me so fierce I almost stumbled. Come on, I'm still getting used to the platform.
"I…" I swallowed. "I was thinking that this doesn't feel real."
Yeah, bitter truth.
His thumb stroked my cheek. "Then let me make it real."
And before I could protest, his lips captured mine.
It wasn't rushed—not the way I'd imagined his kisses might be, full of hunger and impatience. This was different. Soft, coaxing, like he was trying to unravel every thread of fear knotted inside me.
I melted against him before I realized it, my hands clutching at his shirt. When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against mine.
"I know you're afraid," he whispered. "But I will not harm you. I will not force what you cannot give. All I ask tonight is your trust."
I knew what he was talking about. I understand exactly what he meant by those words.
"I've never—" The words broke, the truth catching in my throat.
"I know." His eyes softened, and his hand slid to the back of my neck. "And because of that, I will go slowly. You'll guide me without realizing it."
I closed my eyes, the tears stinging. "George…"
"Shhh," he murmured, kissing the corner of my mouth. "Do you trust me?"
I nodded, barely able to breathe.
His lips found mine again, firmer this time, his tongue brushing against mine in a way that stole the last of my strength. My knees buckled and I clung to him, my body betraying me with how much I needed him closer.
"Good," he whispered against my mouth, tasting my surrender.
His lips trailed downward, along my jaw, over the sensitive hollow of my throat. I gasped, my head falling back, exposing more of myself without meaning to.
He kissed slowly, deliberately, pausing between each one as though asking permission, waiting for the sound of my breathless sighs to guide him.
"George…" My voice cracked, half pleading, half unsure.
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. "Tell me to stop, and I will. Say the word, Eloise."
I hesitated, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might break me. And then—I shook my head. "Don't stop."
The smile that curved his lips was dangerous and tender all at once. "As you wish."
He kissed me harder now, his hands steady at my waist as he walked me back slowly, step by step, toward the bed. Every time my heel hit the carpet, my heart skipped. By the time the mattress touched the back of my legs, I was breathless, dizzy, consumed by him.
He laid me down as though I were glass, fragile, precious. Hovering above me, he brushed a strand of hair from my face.
"Tonight," he said, his voice rough with restraint, "You are no longer Eloise, the woman who feared me. You are Eloise, my wife, my queen. Mine."
And when he kissed me again, I felt it—that truth wrapping itself around me tighter than his arms.
The rest blurred into a haze of tenderness and fire, fear and surrender. He moved with patience I didn't think possible for a man like him, every whispered reassurance softening the edges of the pain, every kiss deepening the flame of discovery.
By the time exhaustion claimed me, I knew: something in me had changed forever.
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The next morning.
The first light of dawn stretched across the chamber when I opened my eyes. I was cocooned in warmth, his arms banded tightly around me, his chest rising and falling beneath my cheek.
I tried to move, but my body protested—sore, heavy, like jelly. I winced, biting back a sound.
And then my gaze shifted, and I saw it.
The faint stain of blood on the silk sheets. Proof.
I froze, tears welling unbidden. Not of regret—but of knowing.
George stirred, his lips brushing my hair. "Awake already, my love?" His voice was low, rough from sleep.
I swallowed hard. "George…"
His arms tightened around me instantly. "You're mine now, Eloise. Do you understand? There is no going back."
Yeah. No going back. I wasn't going anywhere anyway. I belong here now.
I closed my eyes, breathing him in, hearing the steadiness of his claim. "Yes," I whispered. "I am yours."
"Forever," he added.
"Forever," I repeated.
And as I lay in his arms, weak and sore yet strangely whole, I knew the truth: last night, I had not just given him my body. I had given him everything.