The Bride He Hates-Chapter 18: First Wedding Gift

When Lyanna woke up, the sunlight was already filtering through the curtains. She looked around and saw Azrael lying on the far side of the bed. He was already awake, staring at the ceiling

"You’re awake." He said without looking at her.

"How did you know?"

"Your breathing changed." He turned his head to look at her. "You slept surprisingly well for someone who had such a traumatic evening. I trust the silk was to your liking?"

"I was exhausted from the performance." She snapped.

"Indeed." He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "We have a busy day ahead. The court will expect to see a satisfied bride at breakfast."

Even though nothing had happened, but to face the court and pretending it had was mortifying.

"After breakfast, I have a wedding gift for you." He said with a smile."Something I think you’ll find very educational."

"What kind of gift?"

He stood up and began dressing with his back turned towards her, giving her privacy to do the same.

"Victor returned from the Graves Castle ruins yesterday evening, just before the wedding. He brought something which I think you’ll like very much." He glanced over his shoulder. "Cara will be here shortly to help you dress. I’ve selected something suitable for you to wear."

"Of course you have." Lyanna muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

He finished dressing up and left without saying anything else. Minutes later, Clara arrived with a cream colored gown that made Lyanna look delicate and innocent. The kind of colour a bride should wear the morning after giving herself to her husband.

Clara helped her bathe and dress, chattering about how the entire castle was talking about the sounds from the royal chambers last night. Lyanna wanted to bury herself because of the embarrassment, but she listened to her comments with shy smiles and a blushing face.

When she was finally ready, Azrael returned to escort her. He looked at her as if assessing her.

"Perfect. You look exactly like a satisfied new bride." He offered her his arm. "Ready to face the wolves?

"Are they wolves or vampires?"

"Both, in their own ways." He smiled.

The dining hall was full of vampires and whispers. Everyone watched as Azrael led Lyanna to the head of the table. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"Your Majesties! You both look... exhausted. I trust the night was satisfactory?" Damien said.

Lyanna felt her face burn, Azrael’s hand tightened on her arm.

"Extremely satisfactory." Azrael replied smoothly, guiding Lyanna to her seat.

He pulled out her chair, then sat beside her, immediately reaching for her hand on the table.

Lady Elise was sitting at the other end of the table.

"How lovely that you’re so... satisfied, Your Majesty. But why are you so quiet, Lady Lyanna? Was the king’s intensity too much for a human girl to handle?"

She was implying that Azrael had been rough or uncontrolled. Lyanna felt anger spike despite knowing Elise was just being petty.

Before she could respond, Azrael’s hand moved to her thigh under the table, squeezing it to warn her.

"My intensity doesn’t concern you, Lady Elise. Moreover, I see no reason to restrain myself with my own wife." He turned to look at Lyanna. "Do I, darling?"

"No, my lord." She whispered.

The nobles seemed satisfied, and the conversation shifted to politics.

When breakfast was about to end, and nobles began to leave, Azrael stood up and addressed them.

"If you’ll excuse us, I have promised my wife her wedding gift this morning. We’ll be taking our leave."

Azrael led Lyanna out of the dining hall. Once they were in the corridors, his demeanour changed. His expression hardened, and his grip on her arm became controlling rather than intimate.

"Where are we going?"

"To see your gift in my private study." He replied with a cruel smile.

The reached the study, Azrael unlocked the door with a key he wore on a chain around his neck.

There were bookshelves on the walls, a massive desk was in the centre, and everything else was properly organized. But what caught Lyanna’s attention were the items spread on the centre table.

A child’s wooden horse, a woman’s hairbrush with strands of hair still in the bristles, a pocket watch, a small portrait in a silver frame, a broken necklace, a tiny pair of shoes along with portraits of vampire families, children and individuals covering one entire wall.

Azrael walked to the table, and picked up the wooden horse.

"This belonged to a vampire child named Thomas." He put it down carefully. "Your mother’s intelligence about the vampires made hunters attack them. Thomas died trying to hide under his mother’s dress. The toy horse was found clutched in his small hands."

"Stop."

"Stop?" Azrael laughed. "We’ve barely begun. You see, I realized something after our wedding night. You already knew that your mother betrayed us, that vampires died. You’ve read the reports, heard the numbers."

He picked up the hairbrush.

"But numbers are easy to forget. So I thought, what would truly make you understand what your mother did?"

He gestured to the table full of belongings.

"This." He put the hairbrush in her hands, forcing her to hold it. "This belonged to Lady Nicole. The morning, before the attack, she’d been brushing her hair. Nicole tried to fight but she failed. They found this hairbrush next to her body."

"Please stop." Lyanna whispered.

Azrael ignored her words and pulled her to the wall covered with portraits.

"Look at them."

Lyanna looked at a family portrait of five.

"The Silvermoon family," Azrael said, pointing to the family portrait. "All dead. Because your mother told the Order exactly when and where they’d be gathering."

He moved to another portrait, and then to another. Lyanna’s vision was blurring with tears, but Azrael was merciless. He forced her to look, to listen, to understand exactly what each death meant.

Azrael stopped in front of a small portrait of a child.

"This is Lily. She was Adrian’s niece. She loved listening to stories." He picked up a small doll from the table. "This was her favourite toy. When the Order attacked, Lily ran and hid. But they found and killed her because your mother told them where to look."

He placed the doll in Lyanna’s hands, and she couldn’t hold back the sob.

"This is your legacy, Lyanna." He gestured to the room. "Every item in this room represents a vampire who died because of the intelligence your mother provided."

Lyanna’s knees gave away, and she collapsed to the floor, clutching the doll as tears streamed down her face.

"Why?" She gasped. "Why are you showing me this? I already knew...I already felt guilty..."

"Because guilt without knowing the whole truth is meaningless." Azrael replied coldly. "I wanted you to know what was taken from us. Children who’ll never grow up, parents who’ll never see their children become adults, lovers who are left alone."

He crouched down to her level.

"This is why I hate you, Lyanna. Humiliating me publicly is secondary. This is the real reason why your suffering will never be enough. Because no revenge can bring back what your mother destroyed. But I’ll make sure you carry the weight of it for the rest of your life."

Lyanna couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but cry while holding a dead child’s doll and staring at the room full of evidence of her mother’s betrayal.

Azrael stood up and walked towards the door.

"I’ll leave you here to process. Take all the time you need. Look at every item, every portrait, and learn their names."

He left, leaving Lyanna alone in a room full of ghosts.

Alone surrounded by the possessions of the dead, holding a child’s doll in her shaking hands, she finally understood what her mother had actually done, and the weight of it was unbearable.

Lyanna pulled the doll close to her chest and wept for the child who’d never hold it again.

Outside the study, Azrael leaned against the wall, listening to her sobs. He’d told himself this was justice.

But hearing her cry like that, he felt an unwelcome tug in his own chest. He walked away, refusing to acknowledge the quiet voice in his head whispering that he might have gone too far.

This is revenge and revenge requires cruelty.