IDURHF 11-PART 3

Chapter 11

11. The Wedding Night I Slept Through

By the time everything — the wedding ceremony, the reception, and the evening banquet — had finally ended, the date had already changed to the next day.

I was utterly exhausted.

When I returned to my room in the Imperial Palace, I let my ladies-in-waiting take care of everything: they undressed me from my gown, helped me into a bath, and I somehow managed to brush my teeth on my own. That’s the last thing I remember.

Because it was my wedding night, my attendants brought me to the marital chambers where His Majesty Aleksanteri was waiting for me. I tried to wait for him, sitting on the sofa so I wouldn’t fall asleep — but before I knew it, I’d dozed off, my body leaning to the side until I was lying down.

I vaguely remember hearing His Majesty’s voice calling to me in a dreamlike haze, but I can’t recall what I said in response. At some point, he carried me — I don’t know when — and laid me gently on the bed as if I were something fragile.

And just like that, I fell fast asleep.

In my dream, little Garne was staring intently at the fabric I was embroidering. It was a special commission — a wedding dress for a young bride in our village.

Wedding dresses are supposed to be made of white fabric, but the girl was too poor to afford it. Instead, she used pale blue cloth, and I embroidered white thread onto it to make it look like a proper bridal gown.

“Big sis, that dress is really pretty.”
“Isn’t it? One of the village girls will be wearing it for her wedding.”
“Are you going to sew your own dress too, when you get married?”

When Garne asked me that, I paused to think. I was only sixteen, and marriage had never crossed my mind — but if I ever did get married, I knew I’d want to make my own wedding gown. I wasn’t rich, so I’d have to, but still — I wanted to find the best fabric I could and sew it myself.

It wasn’t that I longed to be married; rather, just imagining a dress of my own making was a kind of dream.

“The dress you make would be so beautiful. I want to marry you.”
“That again? Garne, you’re still too young! You can’t get married yet.”

In our country, one couldn’t marry before the age of eighteen — the legal age of adulthood.
There were, of course, exceptions, but most people obeyed the law and waited.

I still had two years to go before I reached adulthood. When I did, Garne would only be eight.

There was simply no way we could marry.

“Then wait for me until I grow up.”
“If I wait for you to grow up, I’ll be an old lady by then.”
“That’s not true. You’ll always be you, big sis.”

Garne said it so earnestly, but how could I take the words of a six-year-old seriously? Besides, I knew that someday, someone would come to take Garne back to where he truly belonged. Knowing that, I couldn’t make promises so lightly.

“I really love you, big sis. I only ever want to marry you.”
“When you grow up, you’ll forget all about me.”

I tried to laugh it off, but Garne’s pomegranate-colored eyes shimmered with tears.

“That’s not true. I’ll always, always love you.”

Seeing him so serious — to the point of tears — left me speechless.

“I’ll become someone important,” he said, “so I can buy you all the fabric and thread you ever want. So you can make any dress you dream of. I promise. So please, marry me!”

Tears welled in his jewel-like eyes, and I couldn’t bear to see him cry.

“If, when you grow up, your feelings still haven’t changed… then we’ll see.”

I had no plans for marriage, no person I loved, and no one who would ever propose to me. At this rate, I’d probably remain single forever — and I was fine with that.

In this country, women were expected to obey men. If I married, becoming a seamstress would only grow harder. People would expect me to bear children and devote myself to household chores.

That wasn’t the kind of life I wanted.

I wanted to leave the village someday and become a dressmaker — to make my own living, to be independent.

It was a dream I knew might never come true, but when I looked at Garne, I couldn’t help but imagine it might.

I imagined us living together until he finished school, leaving the village, and building a life in the city — me as a seamstress, him with his own work.

I knew it was an impossible dream, yet I found myself wishing it could be so.

I didn’t want to be separated from Garne.

When I opened my eyes, I was wrapped in warmth and strength.

Someone was holding me — tightly.

Who…?

As I tried to move, the strong arms around me wouldn’t release me. When I looked up, His Majesty Aleksanteri was gazing down at my face.

“Good morning, Reisie. Did you rest well?”
“Good morning, Alek… Wait! I—I fell asleep!?”

Last night was supposed to have been our wedding night — the night when His Majesty Aleksanteri and I would be joined as husband and wife.

And yet, I had… fallen asleep before he even arrived.

“You slept soundly,” he said gently. “You were exhausted — from dawn till midnight, no less. I hope you rested well.”
“I’m so sorry…! I fell asleep on such an important night…”

I wanted to jump out of bed and kneel to apologize, but his strong arms wouldn’t let me go. Instead, he brushed back my disheveled black hair and pulled me closer.

“You were tired; it can’t be helped. I was sleepy too. Let’s just say it’s good that we both got to rest.”
“Are you sure that’s all right?”
“There’s no need to rush. We’re married now — our wedding night can be any night. What matters more to me is that you didn’t have to push yourself. I always want you to feel safe by my side.”

Even though I had fallen asleep completely in his arms, he didn’t scold me or look disappointed. He only smiled and said it was good that we both had time to recover.

That gentle kindness — that was exactly why I had fallen in love with him.

“Then tonight, I’ll make sure not to fall asleep again.”
“Reisie, there’s no need to hurry. Just being able to hold you as you rest is enough for me.”

At last, Reisie is truly mine.

He murmured it with quiet emotion.

It made me remember my dream — and Garne’s words.

“I dreamed of Garne,” I said softly. “He told Cecil he would buy her all the fabric and thread she wanted so she could make her own wedding gown. Alek, you kept that promise.”

For both my engagement and wedding gowns, I’d been allowed to use the finest silks, lace, and frills — luxuries beyond anything I had imagined.

Perhaps His Majesty had done so to fulfill the vow Garne once made to Cecil, back when he was still known by that name.

“I couldn’t keep my promise to Cecil,” he admitted. “So I wanted to give you everything you desired, Reisie. It’s my way of making up for that.”
“I was so happy,” I told him. “It had always been my dream to make my own wedding dress — and my husband’s as well. But that dream seemed impossible when I was engaged to Lord Renan.”
“I don’t enjoy hearing another man’s name from my beloved wife’s lips.”
“Forgive me. But… you granted my wish. And now, you even allow me to continue sewing. That means more to me than anything.”

At my words, His Majesty’s expression grew serious.

“There’s no need for my permission,” he said.
“…What do you mean?”
“I mean, you don’t need my approval to live as you wish. You should live following your heart — that’s what will make you happy. You never need to ask my leave for that.”

He loved every part of me — the woman who sewed, who made artificial flowers, who grew vegetables in her garden.

I didn’t need his “permission.” I was free to do as I pleased — and he told me that was how it should be.

In Cecil’s memories, marriage meant being bound to one’s partner, giving up one’s dreams, raising children, tending to the house, and supporting the husband’s work. That was the fate of women in this country — a life Cecil never wanted.

To change that, I built a factory with dormitories in the Dian County.

So that women — and men — could live independently.
So that no one would have to abandon their dreams.

What began as Cecil’s dream of a seamstress’s workshop had now expanded. With Sophia and my parents, we would take it even further into new fields.

And as His Majesty Aleksanteri had recognized the Dian family for promoting women’s social advancement and raised our title in rank, other noble families would surely follow our example.

This country was changing — right before our eyes.

“I love that about you, Alek,” I said.

And as I spoke from the heart, he pulled me into a firm, tender embrace.