Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

As the uproar of laughter and applause faded, the feast resumed its lively rhythm, the sounds of clinking glasses and cheerful chatter filling the grand hall once more. Alpheo, however, sat with a neutral expression, his gaze focused on the patterns of the tablecloth before him.

He raised his cup to his lips and took a deep drink, the sweet cider offering a momentary distraction from the turmoil swirling in his mind.

Alpheo understood the predicament he had been thrust into. This insult was a double-edged sword; by responding with indifference, it would portray him and Jasmine as weak, a vulnerability that could alienate the nobility and threaten their support which was already low on its own .

His thoughts spiraled as he considered the prince of Herculia’s motives. Was this a deliberate attempt to ridicule their royal couple, and undermine their authority in front of their peers? Or perhaps it was a clever strategy designed to make them them lead an assault on their territory?Which would mean making their army bug down for a siege, before leading a counterattack knowig their current weak state, or who know maybe this was just an opportunity their prince took to slight an hostile house.

Either scenario left Alpheo with little comfort.Between the two Alpheo thought that the first was more probable as I don’t think there could be many prince that would risk their land getting invaded and raided , as this would effectively cause devastion , of course if the lands was not directly of the prince but of a rival noble than it would make sense to hope for such things to happen.

There is nothing to do, the more I think the less I understand, he thought as he extended his hand to grab his cup.Taking another sip, he reminded himself to maintain his composure. The laughter and merriment around him felt distant, the faces of his friends blurring into a haze.

He was getting too much drunk...

The remainder of the gifts presented were far more conventional, each in keeping with the long-standing traditions of noble weddings. Lords and ladies approached one by one, offering treasures that reflected their respect for the newlyweds. Glittering jewels, elegantly crafted and fit for royalty, were handed over with graceful bows. Fine garments, woven from the softest silks and embroidered with delicate patterns, were gifted to her and some also to him as well.

For Alpheo, the gifts were more practical, but no less significant. Several nobles presented finely crafted armor, with pieces like ornate breastplates and greaves. Others gifted him proud steeds, powerful and well-bred warhorses that would serve him in the field. Of course he received so many pairs that he thought to share some with his companions, wondering however if it could be perceived as an insult in this setting.

Though each gift was given with formal ceremony, the steady procession of jewels, clothes, armor, and horses was a welcome return to normalcy after the earlier insult.

As the revelry continued, the atmosphere in the grand hall grew increasingly raucous.

The wine flowed freely, and the intoxicating effects of the drink began to take hold.

Suddenly, two courtiers, their judgment clouded by too much drink, erupted into a shouting match that quickly silenced the surrounding conversations.

”I told you before!” the first man slurred loudly, pointing a wavering finger. ”Yes, I fucked your wife! And if your mother wasn’t already rotting in the dirt, I would have fucked her too!”

A shocked gasp rippled through the nearby guests, but the second man wasted no time in responding. His fist flew forward, landing a solid punch square on the first man’s jaw. ”You bastard!” he shouted, his face red with rage. ”I’ll kill you for that!

That was followed by a punch as the cucked man started shouting profanity while delivering right and left to the other’s face.

The surrounding guests erupted into cheers and jeers, their encouragement igniting the fight even further.

”Get him!” one of the guests shouted, while another bellowed, ”Don’t let him talk about your wife like that!”

Alpheo watched the scene , he glanced over at his guards, handpicked soldiers from his own ranks, standing at attention nearby. With a subtle shake of his head, he signaled them to intervene. The guards exchanged quick glances before springing into action, moving through the crowd with purpose.

”Enough!” one of them shouted as they reached the fighters, their voices cutting through the din. They grasped one courtiers by their arms, pulling them apart with a firmness that brooked no argument,while they brought the other to a physicist as they even started to wonder if the bastard was still alive. The cheers quickly shifted to groans of disappointment as the guards escorted the bickering nobles out of the hall, away from the festivities.

Alpheo sighed, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Shahab, sitting comfortably at the high table, exchanged a knowing glance with Jasmine. With a subtle nod from Jasmine, Shahab rose from his seat.

”Ladies and noblemen,” he called out, his deep voice cutting through the drunken noise of the hall. The guests, still caught up in the excitement of the brawl, began to quiet down, turning their eyes toward Shahab. He paused for a moment, glancing around the room, before continuing, ”It seems the hour grows late, and with the joy and revelry of this grand night, I believe it is time for the bedding ceremony.”

A ripple of laughter and excited whispers spread through the crowd. Some of the more inebriated guests cheered, clearly eager for the next tradition of the evening. Shahab gave a slight bow in Jasmine’s direction as he spoke, his tone light but firm. ”Let us escort the bride and groom to their chambers.”

The hall erupted into cheers, the nobles’ voices rising in raucous approval as Shahab’s words sank in. The ladies of the court, giggling and excited, swarmed around Jasmine. They gently lifted her from her seat, half-carrying, half-guiding her with delicate hands toward the bridal chambers. Jasmine, regal as ever, smiled softly, her cheeks flushed from the evening’s revelry, but she let the women take her without protest.

Behind them, the male nobles remained at a respectful distance, raising their cups as while many of them were drunk they still had no goodwill toward the groom, as the only reason they had come was out of respect for the crown, who in less than a month had dealed with the hot potato called Ormund.Couples also with the fact that they had nothing to gain from slighting them.

The chamber was finally silent, the echoes of the night’s cheers and laughter fading into the distance as the last of the guests had left. Alpheo and Jasmine stood alone now, the once raucous energy of the hall replaced by a heavy stillness.

Jasmine’s lady-in-waiting, moving with quiet grace, approached her princess. She began to assist her, untying delicate laces, carefully loosening the intricate garments that had adorned her throughout the night. Jasmine stood still, regal even in this intimate moment, as each layer of finery slipped from her form. Alpheo, leaning casually with his back against the chamber wall,started to take off his clothes.

When some of the remaining servants moved toward him, offering to help him disrobe as was the custom, Alpheo waved them off with a flick of his hand.

The servants froze, unsure of what to do.

They started exchanging glances before bowing and retreating from the room after Jasmine was done . The chamber door closed behind them with a soft click, leaving only the two of them to seal their marriage .

Making use of the silence and awkardness Jasmine eyes fell onto the young man’s body.

Once lean and starved from the trials of slavery , with proper nutrition and regular training , Alpheo could be described as generally fit , his skin bronzed from the sun and his back hidden to her, scarred by the past.

Jasmine’s eyes met his, and for a moment, they simply looked at each other. She broke the silence, her voice soft but clear. ”This would be the moment when we share vows,” she said, her tone hinting at the formality of what should have been, yet there was an undeniable vulnerability beneath it.

Alpheo breathed deeply, his brow furrowing slightly. His thoughts seemed distant, not focused on the ceremonial nature of their union, but something deeper. ”What’s your dream, Jasmine?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping out with an almost desperate curiosity. His eyes searched hers, seeking something beyond the surface, beyond the politics and titles.

Jasmine blinked, clearly surprised by the question. Her brow furrowed slightly as she considered his words. ”My dream?” she echoed, confused. ”Sitting on the throne as a princess,” she finally said, her voice calm, as if the answer was obvious. ”Is that not what all of this has been for?”

Alpheo shook his head slowly, his eyes still locked on hers. ”No,” he said quietly. ”That’s your ambition, not your dream.”

Jasmine hesitated, taken aback. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out at first.

After a moment, she sighed softly. ”That was my dream,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. ”And now that I’ve reached it... I just wish to maintain it.”

Alpheo’s gaze softened, but a part of him still seemed to search for something more.

Jasmine meanwhile stood laying on the bed. Her bare skin seemed to glow in the dim light, and as she rested against the pillows, her breath was steady but slow as she tried to put up a facade of bravery, yet the eyes gave her away betraying a hint of nervousness . This was new for her, a moment she had never experienced before, and it showed in the way she clutched the bed’s cover slightly in her fingers, her body tense and anxious.

Alpheo stood at the foot of the bed.He could see that this was her first time. The thought filled him with a mix of tenderness and responsibility. He would have to be gentle, careful, and slow—he knew that half the marriage started on the first night

Taking a deep breath, he moved closer, pulling the cover over them both to shield the moment from the world beyond these walls. As he crawled between her legs, he did so with the utmost care, his touch soft, his movements measured. He wanted her to feel safe, wanted to approach this new experience with patience, knowing that it would set the tone for the future they would share.

Jasmine’s gaze remained on him, trusting yet anxious- He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as he prepared to guide her into this new uncharted space that she would soon dive in.