I am sitting at my wedding reception, drinking copious amounts of alcohol. Aquilo is nowhere to be found, and I begin to wonder why. I stop one of the maids passing by to ask his whereabouts, and she looks at me like I am a lost puppy before leaning down to whisper in my ear: 

“Your majesty, you sent Sir Aquilo away on a campaign to the border after your engagement, don’t you remember?” 

I slump over after hearing this, once again feeling as though an arrow has pierced my heart. The maid yelps in surprise and, seeming to sense my disappointment, she follows up by saying:

“But he has sent a letter, your Majesty! Would you like me to bring it to you?”

I sit up, and with a nod the maid scampers off to fetch the letter. After a few minutes she returns and hands me a plain white envelope. I tear it open and read its contents:

To His Majesty King Helios,

This humble servant is writing to express my congratulations on your union.

Yours Sincerely,

Sir Aloquin

This gruff letter is like a punch to my chest, and I slump over onto the table once again. The maid panics and quickly alerts my new wife, who is sitting across from me. 

"My Queen, it seems like his Majesty is quite drunk, what should we do..?” 

I cannot see the new Queen from my position, but I hear her voice, which is as delicate as the birds chirping in the spring.

 “Oh my, I suppose I will bring my husband back to his chamber.” 

I feel her hands under my arms, trying to get me to stand. I attempt to stand on my own, a final, desperate attempt to salvage my remaining dignity, but I immediately fall back into my seat. I can hear the Queen laughing softly, and she calls over the maid for help. With their combined strength, I am brought to my feet. Step-by-step I am guided back to my bedroom.

The Queen and the maid lay me down onto my bed, and through my half-lidded eyes I take my first real look at my new wife. Her hair is as dark as midnight, but her eyes are a clear blue that shine as bright as the moon in the sky. Seeing this, I suddenly feel a familiar sense of warmth flooding through my chest, like spring has returned to chase away the winter. My throat suddenly is as dry as a fish out of water, but I manage to whisper a few words. 

“Thank you, my Queen.” I say, my voice hoarse.

She laughs again, and the sound is just as beautiful as the wind. 

“In private, his Majesty can just call me by my name,” she says playfully. “Repeat it after me your Majesty, my name is Selene”

“Selene,” I whisper. “Thank you…” 

I close my eyes, exhausted, and the world around me collapses.