Azrael's chambers felt different at night.
During the day, it looked like the room of a powerful king with expensive tastes. But now, in the darkness, it felt intimate.
"You'll sleep there." Azrael said casually as he pointed towards the bed without looking at her. "I have work to finish."
He sat at his desk as if this were completely normal to have his future wife standing awkwardly in his bedroom wearing a formal gown. He pulled a stack of documents, dipped his quill, and started writing, ignoring her existence.
Lyanna stood frozen for a moment, not sure what to do.
Should I change? But into what? My nightclothes are in my chambers. I won't ask him for something to sleep in. Should I just… get in the bed?
It felt too bold and intimate, even if he'd told her to.
Finally, she walked towards the bed and sat on its edge. The mattress was soft, and expensive, that reminded her of her home. She sat there with her back straight and hands folded in her lap, feeling awkward.
Lyanna watched Azrael work because there was nothing else to do. He was completely immersed in his work, occasionally pausing to read something, then continuing.
As the fire crackled and the time passed, the emotional weight of the day finally hit her.
The isolation that had ended this morning, the council meeting where she'd been discussed like an object, the constant fake smile at the banquet, the confrontation with Elise, the devastating news about her mother's betrayal, and now this.
It was all too much. She was exhausted not just physically but mentally as well.
Without really thinking about it, Lyanna lay down on top of the covers, still wearing the gown. She stayed on the edge of the mattress, trying to take up as little space as possible.
Her mind was racing. She kept thinking about her mother's letters, the dead vampires, Victor's visit to the Graves ruins tomorrow.
What will they find? What would Azrael do if they found something worse?
Sleep was impossible. But despite everything, her exhaustion won. Her thoughts became fuzzy, and she fell asleep without realizing.
Lyanna woke up to dim morning light. She sat up slowly, looking at her gown that was wrinkled now. Azrael was already up, standing by the window.
He looked like a dark silhouette in the sunlight, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers. He was watching the sunrise through the gap in the curtains.
Vampires could tolerate brief sun exposure. But prolonged exposure could weaken them, burn their skin, and even kill them.
He seemed lost in thought, unaware she was awake or was pretending to be unaware. Lyanna shifted, and the rustle of her gown exposed her.
"You're awake." He didn't turn from the window. "Clara will be here soon to begin wedding preparations. It'll take most of the day. I'm told it's quite an ordeal."
"Did you sleep?" She asked.
He turned with a smirk on his face.
"Vampires don't need much sleep. I rested for an hour or so in the chair. I didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep, you'll have to look perfect tonight, after all."
There was something in his eyes she couldn't name. It was something complicated.
"The ceremony is at sunset." He continued. "Then the reception, and then the consummation ceremony. You'll need to be prepared for everything. Clara knows what to do."
A knock at the door saved her from having to respond.
"It should be Clara." Azrael said, walking towards the door.
Clara entered with a small army of maids. All of them were carrying boxes, bags, and large wrapped bundles. Behind them, two more servants were carrying a copper bathing tub, and behind them, a few more with buckets of steaming water.
In an instant, his chambers transformed into a dressing room.
"Your Majesty." Clara bowed. "We're ready. This will take several hours, if you have places to be…"
"I do." Azrael was already walking towards the door.
He paused next to Lyanna for a second, who was still sitting on his bed. She thought he might give her some kind of warning. Instead, he just looked at her.
"I'll see you at the altar, wife." He smirked.
Then he left.
"Off the bed, my lady." Clara said immediately. "We need to change these sheets and prepare the bathing area. You can stand by the fire while we set up."
Lyanna obeyed and stood near the fireplace. The maids set up the copper tub near the fire, emptying bucket after bucket of hot water into it. They added oils, making the water fragrant. Rose petals were scattered on the surface.
"It's ready, my lady." Clara said. "Let's get you undressed."
There was no privacy or modesty. The maids began unlacing her gown, removing every layer of her gown until she stood naked in a room full of strangers.
She should have been embarrassed. But she just felt numb.
"Into the bath, my lady."
The next few hours passed in steam and scrubbing. They scrubbed every inch of her skin, washed her hair until they were smooth like silk, and polished her nails until they shone.
When they finally let her out of the tub and wrapped her in towels, Lyanna felt like she'd been scoured.
"Now for hair, sit here, my lady."
They made her sit on a stool in front of a mirror, and two maids immediately began working on her hair.
Her hair was pulled, pinned, twisted, and braided. Lyanna's scalp ached but they didn't stop.
Then Clara brought the black roses. They wove them through the updo, which looked like a crown.
By the time they finished, Lyanna's entire head hurt, but her reflection made her look like something from a painting of a gothic fairy tale.
"Perfect." Clara murmured. "Now face."
If the hair styling had been intense, the face part was torture.
They painted her like a canvas. They made her skin even more pale, her eyes were dark and smoky, and her lips were blood red. When they finally stepped back, Lyanna barely recognized herself.
She looked older and more dangerous. She looked like a vampire queen.
"The dress."
The maids brought out the wrapped bundle, laying it on the bed before unwrapping it carefully. Lyanna had seen wedding gowns before, had imagined her own wedding day wearing a white dress with lace and flower crowns.
But this was nothing like that. The gown was red in colour, embroidered with black thorns that almost looked alive. It was the most beautiful and terrifying dress she'd ever seen.
They lowered it over her head and Clara began to pull the corset laces. Lyanna gasped as it tightened, cinching her waist until she could only take small shallow breaths. She gasped for air, but Clara didn't stop.
"You'll get used to it." Clara said. "Try to breathe shallowly. It's only for a few hours."
The other maids arranged the skirt, fluffing out the layers, setting up the train. When they were done, Lyanna turned to look at the full-length mirror and felt a chill.
The woman in the mirror was a stranger. She looked beautiful yet terrible.
A knock at the door made her heart jump. Lord Adrian stood at the door, dressed in a formal military black uniform.
"Lady Lyanna." He bowed. "I'm to escort you to the ceremony. It's time."
It's time.
The words hit her like cold water. Her stomach churned. Her hands began trembling, and she clasped them together to hide it.
"My lady, Are you ready?" He asked gently.
No. I'm not.
But she nodded anyway, because what else could she do?