The evening arrived quietly, slipping through the castle corridors like a soft whisper. Liora stood behind Eliana, fastening the final clasp of her gown. The fabric was deep crimson silk, smooth and luminous beneath the candlelight, delicate lace tracing her neckline and wrists. Her dark hair was left cascading freely down her back, brushed until it gleamed like polished obsidian.
"You look breathtaking, my lady," Liora murmured.
Eliana stared at her reflection, hardly recognizing the woman before her. "Is it… too much?" she asked softly.
"For a husband such as yours?" Liora smiled faintly. "It is exactly enough."
When Eliana entered the grand dining hall, she stopped at the sight before her. The long table was adorned with crystal dishes, silver goblets, and an extravagant feast—roasted meats glazed in rich sauces, jeweled fruits arranged like treasure, fresh bread still warm from the ovens. Candlelight flickered across polished stone walls, casting golden shadows.
"So much…" she whispered.
Sebastian, seated at the head of the table, observed her reaction carefully. "You are surprised?"
"I did not expect such abundance."
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. "You are my wife. Nothing in this castle will ever be scarce for you."
Her heart fluttered at the certainty in his tone. They dined in measured silence, yet she felt his eyes on her constantly. Each time she dared to look up, she found him watching her—not casually, but intently, as though committing every detail to memory.
Later, back in her chambers, Liora brought out a night garment unlike any Eliana had worn before. The fabric was pale and weightless, brushing against her skin like mist. It was modest, yet undeniably intimate, flowing gently with each breath she took.
"Walk slowly," Liora instructed softly. "Meet his eyes. Do not rush. And remember—you are his wife."
Eliana nodded, though her heart beat so loudly she feared it might betray her.
When she entered Sebastian's chamber, he stood by the window, the moonlight casting silver against his dark silhouette. He turned at the sound of her steps—and stilled.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
She approached carefully, attempting the confidence Liora had described, though her innocence betrayed her in the slight tremble of her fingers. She placed her hands lightly against his chest.
"I am ready," she whispered.
Something in his eyes shifted.
In one swift motion, he pulled her against him. His lips captured hers—deep, consuming, yet not cruel. His hand slid along her waist, drawing her closer. The kiss deepened, stealing the air from her lungs. She clutched at him instinctively, her breath growing uneven.
At first, his touch was measured. Careful. But as her fingers tightened in his shirt and her body leaned into him, restraint began to fracture. His grip grew firmer—not hurting her, but no longer as gentle as before.
"Eliana…" he breathed against her lips.
Her heart pounded wildly.
Too wildly.
He heard it. Every frantic beat. Every unsteady breath.
And just as the moment threatened to spiral beyond control, he stopped.
Completely.
He pulled away, his breathing controlled but strained. She blinked up at him, confusion and disappointment flickering in her eyes.
"Why?" she asked softly.
He turned slightly, running a hand through his hair. His jaw was tight. "Do you know how difficult this is for me?"
Her chest tightened. "Do you not find me beautiful?" she asked, hurt slipping into her voice. "Am I not attractive to you?"
He stared at her for a long moment—and then a quiet laugh escaped him, low and disbelieving.
"You think I stopped because I do not want you?" His gaze darkened again, intense and honest. "Eliana… I stopped because I do."
Her breath caught.
"I do not want you to give your innocence to a man you barely know," he continued, stepping closer, cupping her face gently this time. "When the day comes that I take you fully as my wife, I want it to be memorable. I want you to look at me without fear. Without uncertainty."
His thumb brushed against her cheek.
"I want you to be in love with me."
Silence filled the chamber, heavy yet tender.
"And until then?" she whispered.
A faint smirk curved his lips, though his eyes remained serious. "Until then… I will teach you. Slowly. Bit by bit."
He stepped back toward the bed, watching her carefully.
"Come here, Eliana."
This time, the command felt softer.
Not possession.
An invitation.
And she went to him.