To Bewitch a Devil

“No negativity on this day, Neera”, Pen held up a warning finger. She stood and held up the gown, to which Neera gasped. In Pen’s hands was a fabric that looked like it was made from water. She touched it, wondering if it was real, as her fingers were met by the softest material ever.

“This... is beautiful,” Neera said.

“Well, you have the King to thank for it later, now,” Penelope set it down and stared at her friend up and down. “Let us make magic.”

When the sun was up and ready to resume its full duty, its rays were cast like a spotlight on the throng of people streaming into the castle. Children bounced in with glee, adults in their bests, and royal carriages made their way in. Azriel watched this procession from the King’s chambers, trusting his men on the ground to handle everything.

“Well, we should get going”, Azriel said to a broody King sitting in a corner of his room, already dressed in dashing black trousers and a shirt that hugged every muscle of his chest. The women in the hall were safe from swooning as long as the King donned the long golden robe hung by his bedside. Else, he would appear in thousands of the women’s dreams that night.

Azriel regarded the King, who made no move to stand. “Or you could elope with Neera and I can take over the Kingdom as King.”

“Shut up, Azriel,” Zavian growled. “And besides, you are forgetting Frederick would not simply sit still and watch you be crowned King.”

“Oh, yes,” Azriel said. “I forgot about that crown-thirsty hound for a second. Can’t have my reign starting out with a war. Enough about fantasies. Let’s go downstairs and get you married... again.”

.....

Zavian scowled at him. “I wasn’t married before.”

“Because the smart girl ran before you did so.”

“You keep forgetting I am your King.”

“And you keep forgetting as your best friend, I will always tell you the truth,” Azriel’s characteristic smirk appeared on his face. “Remember, it is going to be a short ceremony. Just go in, pick a Princess, and go out. You don’t even have to attend your own reception, and I can get to pick one or two, or maybe three – future saving in mind- women to help me... relax.”

Zavian shook his head, and to Azriel’s relief, stood. Azriel helped him don the robe, an added weight from its ruby, jade, and gold embellishments.

“Please pick a Princess this time, your Majesty,” Azriel said, part humor and part serious. “For peace to reign.”

“Has peace ever reigned in our world, Azriel?”

“Don’t start, please. Positive day, positive vibes.”

“You started the talks about war, not me”, Zavian gave a heavy sigh. His mind drifted off to Neera for a second, and he shook her away. She had been appearing in his head in glimpses all morning, or rather, every hour he had spent awake till his wedding day. The only way he would survive his own wedding was to keep her out, else he might just throw everything to hell and choose her to be his bride again.

But she was going to be there. He made sure of it and made Pen promise him she would make sure of it. Now, he wasn’t so sure if that was one of his best ideas.

“Your Majesty?” Azriel called, unsure.

Zavian squared his shoulders. “Let’s go pick a Princess and have plenty of wine later.”

Azriel grinned. “Now, that’s the spirit.”

The wedding hall was filled fast, and even though not all Dukes and governors could attend, some had the courtesy to send in representatives, and a few didn’t honor the invite. Among them, just at a seat on the far end of the front row, Neera sat, her fingers latched together to stop them from shaking.

She could not shake off the eyes that settled on her as she walked into the hall, and the loud whispers she had heard them all.

‘She is the Queen’s lookalike! She is the maid the King picked!’

‘Goodness, how can she come here again? And with such finery on her, does she want the King confused?’

‘I understand why the King picked her. Her beauty is blinding!’

Even as she sat, she knew heads were turned in her direction, watching. Neera blew out a breath as hot as her face, and her eyes sought Pen, her pillar of courage, who was not standing too far away. Penelope gave her an encouraging smile, the same smile she had given her in the chambers when she was all dressed up and could barely recognize the woman who stared back at her. She looked like royalty, but felt nothing like one.

Just like the failed wedding a week before, the procession of the Princesses began, and Neera noticed Kitana trying to murder her with her eyes, so she avoided looking in their direction. The King came in next, and when Neera caught sight of him, her jaw almost dropped at how handsome he looked, despite the frown settled on his brows.

As the presider gave a short speech, Zavian caught Neera’s eyes, and his breath hitched. Was that his Neera? She was astounding in the gown and gave him a nervous smile.

Azriel cleared his throat behind him. “Your Majesty, the presider was addressing you.”

Zavian looked towards the old demon, and he clearly looked uncomfortable. The old presider repeated himself, “And which Princess”, Zavian thought he might have mistaken the enunciation on the word Princess, “would His Majesty be picking to rule by his side for eternity?”

Zavian followed the eyes of the presider toward the Princesses. Had they been there the entire time? How did he not notice? Neera had her hold on him throughout.

All three princesses stood out both in personality and in looks; Kitana in her confidence, Jasmine in her sweetness, and Zelda in her serenity. Zavian approached them, his eyes going over one after the other. The crowd went mum, and if a pin were to drop, it would be heard. With bated breaths, everyone watched and waited.