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Her room is warm, crowded and filled with the sound of chatter as Shirayuki digs herself a little deeper into her chair. After several hours of food and drink passing merrily between peals of feminine laughter, the din of conversation had risen to a dull roar. The crowd surrounding her was… an odd mixture. From women of childbearing age to the most elderly—royalty, nobility, and servants alike; it seems as if every married woman in Wistal has deigned to invade her rooms this evening to celebrate her last night as an unmarried woman.
Or haze, rather, Shirayuki thinks as she brings her drink close to her face in an attempt to shade her burning cheeks.
“And my poor husband!” Her Highness, Melati, proclaims, her voice rising above ever loudening shrieks of laughter, “He told me after the fact that he was tempted to call the young knight out to a duel to defend the young Lady’s honor!” Her dark eyes turn wicked as she glances in Shirayuki’s direction, “…if it hadn’t been so agonizingly obvious that Miss Shirayuki was so plainly the instigator!”
The answering laughter was deafening and Shirayuki briefly wondered if she had watched her fiancé climb through windows and scale buildings enough that she could escape this room unharmed.
Honestly, she had expected none of this, and had wished Yuzuri a good night hours ago in preparation for what she knew would be a long day tomorrow, only to suffer from this… invasion just as she was dressing down for the night.
“Ahh! That’s nothing,” one of the maids merrily chips in. “Just last week, I was doing some early morning cleaning of the pharmacy when—”
A rap on the main door could be heard echoing from the sitting room and Shirayuki quickly comes to standing, announcing “I’ll get it!” She doesn’t wait to be excused, spurting out of the room, chased by the delighted sounds of the other women who were now helpless with laughter.
Stumbling out of the room and into the entryway, Shirayuki takes a pause, cupping her cheeks and letting out a deep exhale. She couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out why this was fun or “educational,” as Kiki had insisted. If anything, all the “helpful tips” she was receiving between embarrassing stories were more mortifying than instructive.
There is another rap on the door and Shirayuki straightens her hair and steps forward to answer it. A younger servant is there with a broad smile and a fresh cart of refreshments. Obviously, Shirayuki thought with an exasperated twist of the lips, someone had ordered additional snacks in preparation for staying even longer. Despite the dread that sank all the way into her feet, Shirayuki smiled, thanking the young man and pulled the cart in.
Just as she was turning to close the door, a palm flattened against the outside, stopping her. Shocked and just a little tizzy with wine, Shirayuki gasps and tries to push the door closed on instinct alone. When the door comes mere inches from closing completely, a heavy boot slips just inside the doorway, effectively blocking her.
Shirayuki looks up in panic, only to meet two hazy amber eyes looking down at her.
“Obi!” she breaths, panic draining from her as she leans against the door in relief. A second later, her lips set in a firm line and she pulls back to look up at him. “You’re not supposed to be here. It’s bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding!”
Obi is silent for a moment, his face intent on hers in a way that makes her pleasantly uncomfortable. Unsure of what she is seeing in his eyes, she turns away, clearing her throat and prepares to call Kiki.
“Miss,” Obi’s voice interrupts, just as she is opening her mouth, and Shirayuki can feel the fine hairs raise along the nape of her neck as his voice drags over her skin. She pauses, unable to say anything as he now has her full attention. His eyes are hooded as he leans in as close to her as the wedged door allows, and she notices that the smell of liquor is heavy on his breath. “I just had to come and tell you something.”
Shirayuki leans back slightly, trying to put distance between the two of them. The look in his eyes has her core trembling, and while she welcomed his advances, she was more concerned about what the women in the other room would do to him if they found out he was breaking such a serious rule, rather than what he would do to her. She slips her foot behind the door to prevent him from opening it any wider. “What did you want to tell me?” she asks quietly, in case someone from the other room was listening. The sooner he said his piece, the sooner he could leave.
“I was just thinking, Miss…” he continues, his voice rumbling deep in his chest as his eyes venture from her face, tracing her neck and lower to the décolletage of her dressing gown. Shirayuki feels a different sort of heat start to climb up her neck as she realizes that the ties had come somewhat loose and she clutches at her neckline in response. Obi hums a short, disappointed sound before his eyes move up to her neck with the same sort of hunger. “I am going to have to call you something else after tomorrow night.”
Shirayuki swallows, feeling a little weak with the implications in his tone and thought how he was being totally unfair to her. Honestly, he was the one who wanted to wait. “Why?” she manages to choke out, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.
His smile turns wicked, and she realizes too late that she has stepped firmly into his trap. “Because Miss,” he replies, his voice dropping to a sinful whisper, “It’s going to be my privilege to ensure that you’re no longer a ‘Miss’ tomorrow night.”
Shirayuki feels a sweet tightening of her thighs in response, her breath stolen from her by a simple sentence, and she turns away. Swallowing thickly, she notices with muted alarm that the door is inching open just slightly more and he’s taking advantage of it. She can feel his breath wafting across her cheeks and neck as his face nears hers. “Miss…” he breathes, causing her eyes to flutter shut as her hand tightens on the enclosure of her gown.
She shakily exhales, feeling his breath ghost her neck as she tries to gather her thoughts. “Yes?” she manages to eke out, only to feel weak again when a low and delicious laugh fills the air between them.
“Miss,” he breathes, and she arches her neck slightly towards him to feel the damp air caress her skin. “There are so many things I want to do to you. So many things I will do to you. I am going to make sure the entire palace can hear you and know just how thoroughly you are loved—just how completely I am in your service.”
Shirayuki feels her knees tremble, her strength in holding the door closed against him weakening further, and the door opens just slightly wider. This really wasn’t fair…
His lips skim the nape of her neck, just enough to entice, before breathing her deeply in. A little whimper escapes her lips, unbidden, and she grips rather than pushes at the door. A wet pull at the tip of her ear causes melted ore to pour into her blood in a flood of overwhelming heat. She gasps, feeling his lips caress the shell of her ear and it is everything she can do to stay standing. “I’m not letting you leave our bed without me for our entire honeymoon, Shirayuki.”
This fire under her skin is intolerable. Her knuckles are white where they grasp at the door and his words coil in that hollow place below her stomach. Somehow, she manages to find enough wherewithal to look up at him, and it’s a mistake, because the expression on his face makes her want to cast everyone from her rooms and clear the way to her bed now.
Shirayuki closes her eyes, gathering her sanity, and looks up at him from under her eyelashes, feeling powerless against the burning fire inside of her. “Do you promise?”
Obi’s eyes widen, and she is terribly pleased to see that she has also stolen his breath from him. He lets out a groan from somewhere deep inside of him and the sound skips across her skin, the depths of her absolutely yearning for him. His eyes become wolfish, intense, and filled with singular purpose as he presses his palm fully against the door and pushes just as Shirayuki removes her feeble barricades.
Another hand slams against the edge of the door right by Shirayuki’s head, startling them both. Shirayuki follows a line of pale elegant fingertips, down to a slender wrist and a lean arm before resting her eyes on Kiki’s profile. Her indigo eyes are sharp, leveling Obi with a glare that would bear no nonsense, and the starvation that had been so clear in Obi’s eyes abates to mere hunger.
“Miss Kiki!” he says, his voice absurdly conversational. Shirayuki does not think that she could talk right now, let alone in such a relaxed manner as she watches Obi’s face bend into a harmless drunken smile.
“Sir Obi,” Kiki replies with a sharp smile of her own that is all teeth. Her arm is shaking against the pressure that Obi is exerting from the other side. “I do believe you are lost.”
“Not at all!” Obi objects, his eyes devious as sweat starts to dot the edges of his hairline. “I just wanted to wish my fair bride a good night before the big day!”
The door starts to press open ever so slightly again, and Kiki readjusts her footing to press back, letting out a breath of exertion. “You have done so, then,” she replies, gritting her teeth. “You should return to your room and enjoy the party the men are throwing for you.”
If anything, Obi’s grin gets wider. “Well, I would if they could keep up,” he replies slyly. “And I would really rather stay here for a little longer…”
Both Kiki and Obi let out a grunt, arms beginning to shake as they attempt to force the door in opposite directions. Shirayuki is shocked out of her…appreciation of both of them when a frustrated roar booms down the hall, followed by rapid footsteps.
“I found him!” Shirayuki hears Mitsuhide bellow, exasperation and a certain level of intoxication evident in his tone.
Obi and Kiki have not broken eye contact, though, uncaring of his approach as they attempt to force the other to back down.
“Obi!” Zen’s voice calls, his voice startlingly near to the entrance of her room. Obi’s eyes finally break away from Kiki’s, turning to smile disarmingly in the direction of the approaching Prince and Knight.
“Master! Sir!” he calls, overly friendly, just as he is pushed from the door and tackled to the ground with a loud yowl.
Shirayuki watches, wide eyed, as Zen and Mitsuhide drunkenly wrestle Obi into submission before grabbing him by the shoulders and hoisting him up. Obi glances at her with an all too pleased expression on his face as he is brought to his feet.
Mitsuhide scoffs at his expression, turning towards Shirayuki with an apology on his lips, when his eyes make contact with his wife’s.
“K- Kiki,” he stutters, face blanching. Zen’s disapproving expression towards Obi rapidly shifts into shock and his head snaps to look at the woman hovering behind Shirayuki.
Kiki’s arms have crossed in front of her, eyes bland and face terribly unimpressed with the lot of them. “Control him,” she says simply, moving to close the door.
“Ah! Wait, wait!” Obi cries, pulling half-heartedly against Zen and Mitsuhide’s grip. Kiki pauses, looking distrustingly at Obi, but his gaze has shifted solely on Shirayuki.
“Miss, I don’t just promise. I swear on my life,” he breathes earnestly.
Shirayuki’s eyes widen and her breath escapes her in one shaky exhale. Before any more words can be exchanged, Kiki has closed the door between them with finality. Shirayuki clutches her dressing gown, staring at the door handle, and tries to catch her breath. She can hear the muffled sound of Obi being dragged away, and the scolding voices of Mitsuhide and Zen among Obi’s protesting laughter.
After a few moments, Kiki’s hand press softly to her upper arm, causing her to start and look back at the other woman.
There is a secretive smile there, a sparkle in her eyes that only rarely showed itself. “Come,” Kiki says, pushing the cart back to the guest filled room.
“What was all that commotion about?” Haki asks as they reenter, her face wide in surprise.
Kiki’s pulls a sour expression. “It would appear that the groom has had a bit too much to drink this evening and escaped his chaperones.”
Shirayuki turns her head to look away from the group as soft titters and giggles start to build again.
“I will request that a hangover remedy be sent to his room first thing in the morning,” Haki declares, turning towards one of the maids, who nods dutifully. “He will need it if he is to make it through the wedding day.”
“What about the others?” Melati asks, her face showing obvious concern for her own husband, looking towards Kiki for solidarity.
“Let them suffer,” Kiki announces, her voice firm, before casting Shirayuki a knowing glance. “Sir Obi, on the other hand, has some promises to keep.”