A/N Hi friends. This story will likely continue for at least one more chapter. Please review with any thoughts/comments, even if it's just 'I liked it' or 'It was dull'. Thank you, and happy reading!

Walking up that aisle was possibly the hardest thing Mia ever had to do. Especially after Joe told her that Nicholas hadn't set her up (at least, according to the maids), she felt the full weight of what she was doing. This wasn't just a stunt for publicity. This wasn't a short-term choice. The man at the end of the aisle was going to be her partner for life. And, God, was it terrifying.

The music swelled, and Mia took that horrible first step. She tried to ignore all the guests staring at her and just watched Andrew. Andrew Jacoby, Duke of Kenilworth, was stunning in his dress uniform, she had to admit, and in about 20 minutes he would be her husband. Not thinking about that. She tried to shut off her brain and just follow the steps that had been drilled into her the past week; walk, stand, kneel, stand, repeat after the Priest. And she was done.

The next several hours passed in a blur for her. People congratulating her, waving to the crowds and cameras, the reception with its formal first dance, toasts, and dinner. And finally she and Andrew were in the car, heading to The Genovian, the finest hotel in the capital city. Mia had thought they'd spend their wedding night in the Palace (duh, it's a Palace), but Joseph had logically explained that the suite for the couple wouldn't be ready until they returned from their two-week honeymoon, even with all the work that had gone into it since the engagement. So here they were, riding in the car all of five minutes to the hotel.

Once they were in the Honeymoon Suite, it started to hit Mia just how real this was. Wedding Night, meaning first time together, consummate the marriage Wedding Night. Shit. What exactly was her new husband expecting tonight? Damn Parliament and their ridiculous marriage law!

"Would you like help getting out of that gown?," Andrew asked, breaking her out of her panic before it could really take hold. "It looks rather uncomfortable."

"You should have seen some of the other options," Mia quipped as she turned her back to him so that the many buttons were accessible. "There was one that literally had laces, buttons, zippers, and would have been sewed on me. This one was pretty harmless next to that."

Andrew chuckled lightly as he finished off the last couple satin-covered buttons. Mia peeled the gown off without feeling too self-conscious; the slip and corset-like bra she had to wear under it covered her more than some of her summer dresses. Again, her new husband proved his use as he helped her haul the heavy mass of fabric over to the couch in the sitting room and lay it out.

"So...I think I'll take a shower and try to wash all the hairspray out," Mia said as she started towards the massive bathroom.

"Of course," Andrew nodded, as he moved toward the bedroom, taking off his jacket.

Once Mia got into the bathroom, she suddenly realized that the corset might be even harder to get off herself than the dress. She tried twisting, pulling, and shimmying. At one point she started looking for a pair of scissors in her toiletry bag. (no luck.) She plopped onto the little stool by the sink and sighed.

"Come on, Thermopolis. Get it together. This is your husband. You've already shot a flaming arrow into his arm. How bad can it be?" Her little pep-talk got Mia up and to the door. "Plus you're going to have to have sex with him soon enough." Bleagh. Not the best choice of pep talk. But she was already turning the handle and stepping out before she could freak herself out further.

"Um, Andrew?" She called hesitantly as she stepped into the small hallway, not sure if he was still in the bedroom, or dressed himself.

He quickly appeared, wearing a long, comfortable navy bathrobe, "Yes, Mia?"

"Sorry," she blushed, "it's just, I don't think I can get myself out of this corset thing, I think they tied all the laces into knots, if you could just help to get it loosened enough?" She stopped herself, realizing she was babbling. Great. Cause that makes everything less embarrassing.

"Of course, love." Andrew smiled at her, "It's no problem at all." She turned around and he started to untangle the mess she had made of the knot at the back.

She didn't know why she was feeling so self-conscious about this. She still had the slip on underneath the corset. And it wasn't like he was pawing at her or anything. Really, as far as she could tell he wasn't paying any attention to what she looked like, which was just as well, since she couldn't help turning red. I guess it's just intimate to have someone undress you, she thought.

After several minutes, Mia was finally able to wriggle out of the stiff garment. She quickly grabbed the corset from him and slipped back into the bathroom. The intervening minutes had only made her more embarrassed, if that were possible. Finally able to undress fully, she stepped under the steaming water and tried to let the several shower heads massage out her stress while she let her mind go blank.

Going through all the usual motions of grooming and lotioning, Mia tried to remain in a zen state. Happily, her lavender bathrobe was already hanging on the back of the door, so she didn't have to make another awkward call for help.

"Ah, all relaxed?" Andrew was lounging in an overstuffed chair by the windows, reading what appeared to be a military novel.

Mia plopped herself onto the edge of the bed, "Yeah, that shower is something else. I wonder if it's too late to upgrade the one they're putting in." Smirking at Andrew so he'd know she wasn't too serious (though the shower was amazing), she began to rifle through her small bag of personal items to look for her journal. Although she didn't need it quite as much as she had as a teen, it was still habit to write down a few lines when anything momentous happened. And her wedding day more than counted.

The newlyweds settled into a comfortable silence while one read and the other wrote. Mia was shaken out of her reverie as the bed dipped a bit and Andrew settled onto the other side. She snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't bad looking. Kind of handsome, really, which only made her more nervous, of course. They'd shared several kisses for the cameras, and had spent lots of time holding hands. But none of that added up to a wedding night, and she hadn't slept with anyone in a long time.

"Are you okay, Mia?" Andrew was suddenly very close, "Mia. Breathe."

Gasping in a breath, she held it for a second, and let it out slowly.

"Good. Again." Andrew breathed with her as he spoke. "What were you panicking about?"

Mia was startled that he'd even known what was going on, and blurted out the truth, "Us, sex, the wedding night." She blushed, realizing what she'd said, "I mean, sorry, I didn't mean…"

"No, Mia, it's okay." Andrew said, "I don't want you going into panic attacks because you don't feel like you can tell me what you're thinking." He sighed, "I think we've both been a little focused on getting through the wedding since we started, and now we're here…"

Watching his face, Mia saw some of the confusion she was feeling reflected in him. "It sort of just hit me when we got back here that we're really married. And I maybe didn't think through all the 'wedding night' stuff so well before tonight." She looked down at her wedding ring. "I don't know how to talk about this or what's expected of me now."

She watched him take her hand in one of his. "Perhaps in our own rooms we can let the expectations go a little," he said, " and just focus on getting to know each other better without the press and our families swarming around."

"But what about, you know, consummation and stuff?"

"Well," he said slowly, as though pondering, "I don't believe Genovian custom actually requires bloody sheets these days." He grinned at her chuckle, "Really, though, Mia, no one else needs to know what happens in our bedroom. If it would make you happy, I will readily consulate our marriage tonight, but if you'd prefer to spend this honeymoon getting better acquainted, I am equally content with that."

She looked up into his face, trying to see if he meant it. "Thanks," she said, not finding any lie in his expression, "that's a relief. Oh, not that sleeping with you is a burden or that you're hideous or something…" She left of explaining as he started to laugh, "Hmph. Well, at least you're not offended."

With a twinkle in his eyes, he said, "Fear not, sweet princess, my manly pride is not so easily wounded." He gallantly raised her hand to his lips and brushed her knuckles with a kiss.

Unexpectedly, Mia found herself blushing at the motion. "Um, so, maybe we should talk some, or…"

"If you'd like." He generously overlooked her change of subject, "Though I'm fairly worn from the day, so sleep may need to be the first priority."

Feeling her own exhaustion wash over her, Mia agreed. As they each settled into their own spot, barely touching in the middle, Mia wished her new husband good night. Perhaps this won't be so hard after all. The thought drifted through her mind as sleep claimed her.