Chapter 4

The wedding ceremony finally came to an end and it was time for the groom and bride to go to their home. 

 Freya couldn't stop blushing at the back of the caravan that rode them. He was sitting with her at the back and looking out. Freya got the opportunity to study the corners of his face and his biceps, which poked out of the clothes he was wearing and made him look like a Greek god. Her cheeks went hot again as the memory of their kiss played in her mind and she brought up her fingers to touch her lips. 

 “You seem very happy,” he spoke for the first time since the beginning of their journey. His voice brought her to the present, and realisation dawned on her that she still didn't know him or know why and how she was here—and they had just exchanged vows at their wedding. What has she been thinking about ever since? Did this man put a spell on her or what? 

 “I—Why am I here?“ she asked first, since that was the only conversation starter she could think of. 

 There was a moment of silence, and then he replied. “You're my new bride. That's why.“ 

 “No. I mean…” Freya took a deep breath. “I don't know you… and I'm sure you don't know me either. A part of me is still thinking that this is a dream.“ 

 He cast a glance at her, and their eyes met, which made her feel a sudden jolt in her stomach—this man was making her feel things. “There's no need to know me. You're not going to last long, anyway.“

 Freya felt a sharp pain in her heart as she heard him. She was slowly starting to realise that this wasn't a dream. She was in a mysterious land which seemed ancient and mediaeval with a mysteriously-beautiful man who everybody seemed to fear and who was also her husband. She suddenly remembered his last words before he left her back in that room. 

 “W-what was it that you saw in my eyes?“ she asked, trying not to sound as scared and anxious as she felt.

 Freya thought he was going to answer before the caravan made a sudden stop. One of the guards with them in the carriage came down and announced that they had arrived. 

 The Lord came down from the caravan and helped a pale-looking Freya to come down too. She looked around them immediately her foot touched the ground. They were in a castle which was grand and luxurious, with a wide space and beautiful garden. 

 He started to walk towards the direction of the castle without a single word, and Freya found herself rushing after him in fear of being abandoned so early. 

 “My L-lord… even if I'm going to die, eventually; don't I deserve to know why? It's not like I did anything bad to deserve any of these cold treatments you're giving me. Or… did I?“ Freya was suddenly very pissed and frustrated. She was sick and tired of playing games and she didn't mind if he decided to kill her for trying to get answers from him. 

 The Lord stopped in his tracks and turned back to look at her. His face showed a little emotion for perhaps the first time—but Freya couldn't name it. He stared straight into her eyes like he was trying to make sense of what she said.

   And then they heard a gasp. 

 Freya moved her head to see who it was, and saw that it was two girls who were about her age dressed in the same uniform. They looked really shocked and scared as she stared at them—and Freya knew it was because she caught them listening to their conversation. 

 The Lord turned at last, and he seemed to speak to them with his eyes.

 “W-we just came to welcome you and our Lady and prepare her for the evening.“ 

 “Prepare me for what?“ demanded Freya, her tone sounding rather harsh. They immediately averted their gaze and looked to the ground like they were scared shitless.

 The Lord took Freya's hands and squeezed it a little. “We'll talk later after you settle down.“ Then he walked away without looking back. 

 “My Lady, if we may, let's lead you to your chambers so you can bathe and get into more comfortable clothes,” said the maid, who seemed to be a little older than the other one.

 Freya forced a smile and nodded her reply. They silently led her past a wide and beautiful hall-way before finally entering a room.

 Freya gasped at the sight of the room, but soon regained her composure after she realised the maids were watching her every move. It was a large room which looked and smelled of royalty with a big bed decorated with Lion sheets—the exact kind she's read in books.

 The maids led her into a dressing room and helped her get out of her wedding dress. They assisted her in picking a beautiful cotton nightdress from the dressing room's wardrobe before asking if she needed a bath. Freya replied in the positive since she thought it would help relieve her body of the stress and fear of the worst. They showed her to the bathroom where a warm bath was already waiting. Freya breathed a sigh of relief and started walking to the bath. She was about to strip when she turned and saw they were still there. “Thank you. You can go now.“ 

 They looked at each other with confused expressions on their faces. “My L-lady,” the older one spoke again. “It's our duty to bathe you.“ 

 “What?“ Freya almost screamed, but then realised that she was some sort of princess in a mediaeval kingdom. “Okay.“

 She slipped out of the night dress and stepped into the bathtub, completely naked and aware of the fact that they were watching her. 

 The two maids then walked to the tub and sat on a stool as they sponged her body and washed her dark blonde hair. 

 “You have such beautiful hair, my Lady,” said the younger one.

 Freya faintly heard the older one scold her at her remark and decided that she liked the younger one for not fearing to voice-out her thoughts. “Thank you. What are your names?“ 

 They hesitated for a few seconds, and then the older one spoke. “My Lady, my name is Joan and hers is Edith, and we're both your personal maids.“ 

 Freya nodded, feeling relieved that she had two people to talk to before the unknown doom befell on her. “ I'm Freya; you both can call me that when we're alone.“ 

 They seem to exchange looks before replying in unison: “We will, my Lady.“ 

 Freya sighed. “You just called me “My Lady” again.“ 

 Their movements on her body immediately started to slow down and Freya realised she was making them feel uncomfortable. She was deliberating if she should ask them about her mysterious husband. 

 “Can I ask you both something?“ 

 “Anything, my La—Freya,” replied maid Joan. 

 “What's his name? My husband?“ 

 They stopped bathing her completely. “H-he hasn't told you?“ asked Edith, sounding really surprised.

 “No. Why? He hasn't told me anything at all. Just that…” Freya paused in pain. “…I'm not going to last.“

 Freya heard the both of them gasp. And some moments later, Joan told her they were done. 

 “Don't go anywhere!“ Freya commanded, using the authority she knew she had. “You're not done here.“ 

 “My L-lady… he—he has to tell you his name himself,” said Edith. 

 Freya had finally had enough. “What is going on here, really? Why do you all fear him so much? Is he a god, or a demon from hell? Is he—” 

 “You both… get out,” the Lord said to the maids as he suddenly entered the bathroom. 

 They both bowed and scurried-out with fear on their faces, not even having the courage to look him in the eye.

 Freya fought not to show her fear as he walked majestically towards her, looking like an evil walking-temptation. 

 He sat on one of the stools and carried a sponge in his hands before adding some soap, his eyes avoiding Freya's the whole time.

 “W-what do you think you're doing?“ Freya asked before she could stop herself. 

 “Bathing my new bride,” he replied after a beat just before he started washing her from her neck downwards… 

 Freya felt her body go flaming-hot in response to his touch, and bit her lips to suppress her moan. His pinkie fingers mildy touched her skin as the sponge rotated around her collarbone and began to move downwards to her breasts. The sponge was at the top of her breasts when she suddenly recovered from her trance and held his hand. 

  “W-we can't do this. I barely know you. And you act like you want to chop-off my neck in one second but in the next… you're calm and tamed.“ 

 He seemed taken aback for a moment, and then he chuckled. “Calm and tamed?“ his voice was a whisper on her ears, which made her skin tingle in want. 

 “Y-yes,” she replied, feeling drowsy. “And I don't even know your name.“ 

 Freya felt his hands go rigid in hers as she said her last words. “I don't know yours either.“ 

 “That's because you never asked.“ 

 “You never asked for mine, either,” he replied coldly.

 “I was supposed to ask?“ Freya's voice was louder than she expected. “I even demanded for Lord Ethan and the maids to tell me… but they refused and said you'd have to tell me yourself—and that's what I've been waiting for.“ 

 “I told you you don't need to know for the reasons I mentioned… did you forget?”

 “I don't care about anything that happens, eventually. I just want to start this by knowing your name.“

 “Okay,” he whispered, his pinkie fingers escaping her hands to touch her skin again. “You can call me Draven.“ 

 Freya's entire body went limp when he mentioned his name, and she continuously repeated it to herself. 

 “Draven… I like the name.“ Freya flushed. “But, why then do they call you The Lord?“ 

 “It's not important, Freya,” he said, and instantly wished he could take it back. 

 A sudden numbness befell on Freya. “Y-you already knew my name?“ 

 “You talk too much,” he muttered. “Can you release my hands now?“ 

 Freya obeyed him without thinking. And then she felt his hot fingers on her breasts!