The reception is here. The guests stand as an army of servants clear the benches, unfolding huge, cleverly joined oak tables as everything in front of the dais is cleared away and a table carried out in front of us.
I take my seat at his right hand, our… Hell, call them what they are. Our thrones are pushed together so they touch, and I rest my arm on his as the presentation of the wedding gifts begins. It takes two hours for them all to be given, foreign dignitaries and government ministers and locals carrying them up, holding them high so we can see them, then carrying them off to a side table where they quickly pile high.
Then comes dinner, the first of nine courses, so much food that if I tried to eat a full helping of all of it, my dress would burst.
I’m not showing yet but I would be if I ate all this.
So much attention is fawned over me I start to feel drunk from it, and end up leaning on Kristoff’s arm, ignoring most of the goings-on as the food is brought and taken. He feeds me choice bites from his plate for a while, and then the time comes for the cake.
I follow him to the middle of the hall as it’s carried out. It must be ten feet high, so elaborately decorated that it feels tragic to take a knife to it. Yet I do, though we skip the whole smashing the cake in the groom’s face thing. It’s not dignified. I cut big slices for each of us and we eat them standing up.
I can feel my anticipation fluttering in my stomach as I swallow the sugary cake, swiping at my lips with my gloved fingers. I feel like a virgin all over again, thinking about what tonight will bring. My prince’s glances and longing looks turn my legs to jelly.
After the cake is served and the tables are moved again, the band starts up, and he pulls me into the room for a solo dance, sweeping me around the stone floor, lifting me from my feet as he turns me in his arms. I cling to him and squeeze his sides hard.
Other couples join. It’s so surreal to see my mother and father dancing at my wedding…here, of all places. I can barely believe this is happening. It’s like a dream.
Kristoff notices that I’ve started to cry, and pulls my head to his chest.
“What concerns you, my princess?”
“I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all.”
“Share your burdens.”
“I… I feel like I don’t deserve this.”
The music slows and so do we. The world blurs until it’s just the two of us, dancing through a magic kingdom.
“No one could deserve it more.”
“I wish my brother was here. I wish…” I trail off, leaving my second wish unspoken. I can’t tell my husband I wish my dead fiancé was here.
“I know,” he says, tugging on my braid until my hair falls loose.
“If he left me or we broke up or something it would be different but one night he was just gone and… I feel so awful. I want to love you with all my heart, but there’s still a piece of him there and I can’t just make it go away.”
“That piece of your heart is part of you. I love you for it. For your compassion, for your kindness, for your strength and humility. I said my vows before the people, but this is my vow to you. Now and forever I am yours. Hold me in your heart as well. That is all I ask.”
I sniffle into his chest and we dance until the music begins to fade.
Then it picks up again, a raucous tune. He told me this would happen but I’m not quite ready for it. All at once he scoops me up and I yelp and throw my arms around his neck.
Kristoff told me that traditionally, I’d be stripped naked by all the male guests and thrown into bed with him while they wait outside during the consummation. I almost thought he’d go through with it, but he’s only teasing me.
I cling to him as he carries me out of the hall, the guests in tow. They stop at the gate to the old section of the castle and we go the rest of the way ourselves. He doesn’t let go of me until he lowers me onto the bed and steps back to close the door.
I lower my feet to the floor and stand up. As he turns around, I undo the toggles and laces on the sides of my dress and let it fall in a pool around my feet. Underneath I’ve chosen a set of white lingerie and white stockings. I slip out of my shoes as he undoes his formal coat, stopping when I begin to undress him.
He tucks my crown onto my head to make sure it stays in place as I kneel before him. I look up at him and reach out with my tongue and pull the head of his cock into my mouth. He was already hard but gets harder, his hand gently resting on the back of my head as I wet the tip of his cock, swirling my tongue around it.
He likes that, I’ve learned.
The look on his face when he gives me a little thrust is priceless, like he forgot himself. I take him deeper in my mouth and then abruptly pull back, pressing my lips around his shaft just under where the head flares, as if saying no, no, let me do the work.