He could hear her coming.

The sounds of her heels echoed along the corridor, and he almost winced at the idea of subjecting his feet to being stabbed by the contraptions women called high heels. Caleb's footsteps were much lighter in comparison, but then again he had been trained to walk like that since he'd taken his first steps all those years ago in the slums. One needed to be quick, agile, and silent to survive in a place like that. Caleb had survived until his teens – when his father had finally set about improving the living standards of the impoverished parts of their grand capital city, Skordia. Leviathan was glad his father had – otherwise he'd likely have never found his third knight.

Ridian had been raised to be a knight ever since his birth to one of the lesser noble households, as had Albion. Caleb was different... but Leviathan liked different. Having three of the same rigid cardboard cut-out knights would have been awfully boring, and if there was one thing he hated it was boredom. Mind-numbing boredom was his worst nightmare. Which admittedly was probably why he was having so much fun with his precious fiancée. She was rather amusing to rile up. He was going to have so much fun when she finally began her lessons.

Leviathan smiled, but he knew his wicked grin would go unnoticed by his precious wife-to-be – she had to be blindfolded, as ceremony dictated. It would be a white little thing, he knew, to contrast with the black of his own. She would be in whites and silvers, while he would be in his blacks and golds. Contrast, symbolic of the harmony between the golden sun which cast shadows, and the silvery white of the moonlight where both they and their cousins thrived. She was to be the moon to his sun – refined, beautiful, and dignified. He resisted the temptation to laugh at the thought. Kaliana was anything but refined or dignified, though he'd certainly argue she was beautiful in the grand scheme of things. Not only was her appearance aligned with his tastes, but her unpolished mannerisms and the sheer range of emotion she could show on her face... he loved every minute of it, especially when they had some modicum of privacy.

He edged closer to where Caleb had left her – outside the doors they were due to walk through in a matter of minutes. "I would say it's nice to see you, brat... but I really can't," he said, leaning towards her, perfectly aware of what was going on around him. He was the one with the enhanced senses, but his fiancée was unfortunately lacking in that area. "Here... let me give you a hand," he continued, offering out his arm. They were to enter together, so she'd end up clinging to him one way or another, and no matter how much he might enjoy tripping her to make her fall into him, he knew his mother would disapprove somewhat. He was allowed to tease his wife-to-be in private, but there were limits to what he could do in front of others. There was an image he needed to maintain.

He was going to be ascending to the throne in three short years. Hopefully it would be after he had sired an heir to secure his claim – not that there were any other proper candidates who could take the throne from him. Three years was plenty of time to tease both the socks, and hopefully the pants off his soon-to-be-wife.

In a matter of hours, she wouldn't be his fiancée anymore – she'd be his bride, his wife, and with that would come her responsibilities. He had three years to teach her everything she needed to know, whether it be about her future duties as queen, or a much needed lesson in anatomy. Apparently she managed to skip over a lot of content in those sorts of lessons back at her own estate – a fact he would soon have to remedy.

She didn't move to take his arm though Caleb soon intervened, like the helpful ghost-like presence he was. If Leviathan was any less familiar with the man, he would never be able to locate him. Not if he didn't want to be found. Her hands clenched around his arm, proving how weak her grip strength was as she held him as tightly as she could.

"Could you clench a little higher up?" he asked, sighing in mock relief. "I've been after a good arm massage for a while..."

Kaliana growled, but he'd prefer to call it a kitten's purr. She wouldn't terrify a fellow kitten with that sound, so she'd hardly scare him with it. He'd wrestled with highland cats before – ridden on tamed ones – so there wasn't much of a growl which could scare him. Perhaps the Dragon Folk might have been able to, but that particular race of Fae had long since passed into history.

"Let's just hurry up and get this ordeal over and done with..." she grumbled, loosening her grip, not even bothering to take up his challenge – or give him a nice arm massage while she was at it, either.

"Do you even know what that word means?" he asked, a smile on his face at the small hiss which left her lips.

"I'll castrate you if you do not shut up!" she hissed.

He tilted his head, well aware of her lacklustre anatomy lessons. She wouldn't be able to castrate him even if her life depended on it... well, not properly at least. A wicked smirk pulled at his lips. "That would involve taking my pants off, dear," he said, the wide grin on his lips not fading in the slightest, and he doubted it would fade for the rest of the day. Kaliana was just too much fun. "And if you are going to castrate me, then I would definitely need to give you a full body exam before you do so... I wouldn't want my wife to be operating on me while she was unwell."

She pushed herself as far away from him as possible, and Leviathan could feel her cheeks burning with warmth. It was a shame he couldn't see that bright red rosy blush. "Go fuck yourself, damned bastard," she snarled, her grip tightening even as he shook with silent laughter. "You aren't getting anywhere near me with your... thingy..."

Leviathan doubled over, sniggers escaping his lips, far too violent to hold back. Thingy? He snorted, ignoring the pointed gaze he could feel Caleb sending his way – his trusty knight silently telling him he needed to get himself back under control. He had an image to maintain, and they were about to enter the hall, where the various nobles would be waiting – ready to watch the ceremony they really should've had longer to prepare for. The assassins wouldn't wait though, and the sooner Kaliana was bound to him, the sooner she willingly chose to sleep with him in his bed, the safer she'd be. The thought sobered him right up, his chuckles fading, his back straightening as the rattle of hinges sounded. It was almost time.

"Well, my dear," he said, eager to throw her off balance before the long boring ceremony was underway. The sooner she figured out a way to maintain her composure with him at her side, the better. "I am rather afraid the logistics of that wouldn't quite work out. It would be a bit hard to fuck myself with my thingy considering it's located on the front of my body, and my arse can be found on the back half... you, on the other hand..." He trailed off, sighing almost wistfully. He would have time to fantasise about what he wanted to do to his precious wife later, after they actually became husband and wife.

Caleb cleared his throat pointedly, before a familiar voice interrupted them. "Lev." Albion sighed, reminding them they had an audience. "It's nearly time... so stop flirting with your brat and get your game face on."

"Flirting?" Kaliana echoed, scepticism lining her voice.

"I'm sorry, Alby..." He paused, turning his head to face his least favourite knight – and by least favourite he meant he loved the guy to bits, but would sooner throw him off the nearest parapet before admitting he found the blonde tolerable. "I don't think I heard you correctly..." Only he was allowed to call her his brat. Nobody else. Not even his irritating childhood friend. "What did you call my sweetheart over here?" he asked, tilting his head, staring straight into those green eyes, despite having a blindfold over his own.

Albion only sighed again, shaking his head at him. "The Blood Monk is waiting for you," he reminded. "Wouldn't want to keep him waiting, would you?"

The doors in front of them opened with a click.

"Well, I think that's our cue then..." he mumbled, glancing down at his fiancée. "Shall we?"

"Screw off," she grumbled, taking a step forwards.

Leviathan leant down, lips right against her ear, ensuring no one would be able to hear his very ungentlemanly words. "I will happily screw you later, should you be willing," he purred, straightening up in the next breath, guiding her out into the hall, acting every bit the prince he was meant to be. "Come on, honey," he said, leading her forwards. "Let's go and get you married to me – the dastardly handsome prince..."

"You—"

"Now, now, dearie." He patted her on the arm. "Let's not forget that my blindfold comes off first... and if another rude word comes out of that little mouth of yours, I will happily quieten you with it." He walked her forward, head held high as he led them towards the altar. He could tell she was silently cursing him, likely picturing all the ways she could humiliate him. Sadly for her, she would never get to enact any of them.

She was forced to stumble alongside him in her heels, despite the deliberate slow pace he was setting. His bride was terribly clumsy – another thing he would need to try and remedy as quickly as possible. He didn't falter in his stride, his arm keeping her upright whenever she threatened to fall. She was alarmingly similar to a baby fawn in certain respects: she struggled to walk without stumbling, and for all her cursing she was innocent and blissfully ignorant to the numerous schemes of everyone around them.

Fortunately for her, they both reached their assigned seats rather quickly – large cushions on which they knelt. He had seen them when his mother had been bustling about with preparations however many months ago. They were red and embroidered with serpelis – the patron animal of their kind. He had only ever seen one once on one of his many patrols around the borderlands, and it had been one of a monstrous size. Still, he felt blessed by the sight and by the few large scales left behind. Serpelis were said to be a symbol of fertility and good luck to vampires. He had been blessed by lady luck, though he wasn't certain he could say the same thing about his bride.

Kaliana knelt to his left, dress no doubt bunched around her legs as she shifted to get comfy. They would be there for a while he knew. The Blood Ritual took time to complete, but once it was over, they would be bound together for the rest of their long life.

He had looked into it years ago, knowing he'd eventually be forced into one – he was the prince, the sole child of his mother and father. It was guaranteed he would be forced to marry. The royal vampire bloodline depended on it. He was oddly grateful it was Kaliana, rather than one of his numerous fangirls. They probably wouldn't have been half as much fun to tease. He smiled, reaching for his bride's hand, enclosing it in his own. He had never really noticed how dainty her hands were before...

A sharp tap on his other wrist had his reaching up to remove his own blindfold, the small slip of fabric falling into his lap, and he left it there – just in case he needed to make good on his promise to shut his delightful bride up. He stared at the man sitting in front of them, his features cast in shadow by the hood of the robe he wore.

He was a Blood Monk, one of those inducted into a highly selective order composed of individuals who could wield the sacred Blood Magic of their race. Anyone found to possess the ability to wield that ancient magic of their race was all but guaranteed a place in their order – the only exceptions being the royal family. Most vampires had an underlying ability of some sort, aside from an unfortunate few. He was still waiting for Kaliana to ask him what it was he could do, but knowing her stubborn pride, she wouldn't. He'd just have to show her exactly what he was capable of.

Leviathan smiled, glancing sideways at his wife-to-be. She was dressed up, a light touch of makeup, lips shining with a coat of gloss. She looked like a doll, a very unhappy one albeit. He tilted his head, eyeing the white and silver blindfold covering her eyes. He could remove it whenever he wished, the spelled clasp at the back ensuring he would be the only one able to reveal those stormy eyes which would no doubt start glaring at him the second he took it off. Which was why he'd happily be leaving it on for a little longer. As much as he took delight in those expressive eyes of hers, he didn't feel like spoiling the mood with her glare.

Dimly, he listened as the monk spoke the greeting, telling them all about how they were 'graciously gathered here today' to celebrate the new couple. A light smile touched his lips.

Kaliana probably would have had a few choice words to say about that had they been all alone in the room. They weren't, though, and she was seemingly smart enough to hold her tongue. Though perhaps she might have been able to feel the eyes boring into her back. Even he could feel them – the jealous glares of the young female court members. Hateful glares because Kaliana was earning prestige and they were not. She was marrying into royalty while they were not, simply because they didn't have the correct blood. Leviathan suppressed a smirk, watching as her back straightened, her head held high. She would make him a damned good queen... well, once he taught her to hide the bratty side in public. She'd be more than welcome to be his brat when they were in private.

A low growl rumbled from her throat. It was soft, almost inaudible, but he'd always had better hearing than most. Cute... How she thought she could intimidate anyone with that, Leviathan didn't know. Still, it just made it easier to tease her. "Easy, love," he murmured, thumb running against her smooth palm. "Don't go getting possessive over me when we aren't even married yet."

"Shut up."

He grinned. "Remember what we talked about earlier, honey." His lips were right by her ear, warm breath making her shudder.

Kaliana's eyebrow twitched, irritation written across her face as she glared at him despite the blindfold between them. "Whatever you say, sweetheart," she muttered gruffly, loathing coating every inch of her words as their wedding ceremony stretched out in front of them.