Discontent would be the best way to describe the overall mood of the wedding party, and-indeed-his own. The arrangement, though amicable enough, left much to be desired. Heero was perturbed. It should not bother him that she seemed unhappy. Their marriage was one of convenience and necessity; a business transaction and yet, from the moment her eyes met his he'd felt… different.

The ceremony was scheduled for the following day. They rode through the empty town streets, windows and doors shuttered against the invaders. He didn't blame them. No ribbons or flowers lined the halls of the castle chapel. There hadn't been time. But none of that mattered to him. He would wed her and then return home to begin planning their next move on the path to uniting the kingdoms.

All thoughts of conquest fled his mind when she entered the room. He felt her eyes on him even as her face remained covered. The dress was a beautiful blue satin that hugged her curves modestly. The veil over her face seemed hung over her honey-colored hair. His eyes were drawn to her almost magnetically and as she finally made her way to his side, he felt something in the air change. He reached out, as was custom and lifted her veil…

She was breathtaking.

High cheekbones and a proud nose sat above thin pink lips. She was the very picture of what a regal lady should be, but what really held his attention captive were her eyes.

Large, aqua pools the color of a clear sea stared into his with an intensity that nearly staggered him. He found it hard to breath as the sheer number of emotions swirling through them caused his breath to catch. Hints of uncertainty wavered in their depths battling defiantly with determination. She was sad; perhaps disappointed but she hid it well. The emotion that hit him the hardest was the one he didn't see.

Hatred.

He expected her to hate him for forcing such a fate upon her but there was none. In its place was something he couldn't name, but it was warmer than he had any right for it to be and it called to him like a siren's song. It increased his own sense of unease. As he took her hands in his for the vows, lightning seemed to sear it's way from her touch, up his arm and to his heart.

'She is surely a witch.' He thought, for no woman had ever had such an impact on him.

The priest began the ceremony in his droll, monotone voice but Heero could barely hear him.

"Do you, Heero Yuy, Warrior King, take this woman as your wife and queen to honor and cherish, as one flesh, forsaking all others so long as you live?" He stared into her eyes and nodded.

"I do." Now the priest turned to her and again she showed no sign of hesitation.

"And do you, Princess Relena, take this man as your husband and king to honor and cherish, as one flesh, forsaking all others as long as you live?" Her eyes found his, her gaze firm and strong.

"I do." Her voice was soft, melodious, and seemed to dance in the air. The priest continued with the remainder of the recitation. As they exchanged rings, her gaze never faltered. Regardless of her level of willingness, she was as determined as she was sincere. He thought he may have even caught the hint of a blush as he slipped his ring on her finger.

"I now pronounce you man and wife, King and Queen. You may now seal your vows before God and country with a kiss." He had forgotten about this part, but had no intention of shirking that custom. He stepped forward, leaned in and touched his lips to hers.

Fire lit every nerve of his body and seared through his being to smolder in his gut. He thought, briefly, that she might have felt it too as her lips parted slightly in a gasp. In spite of it all, he felt a bit of pride at the thought of eliciting such a reaction from her.

When they pulled back, his lips continued to tingle even as her eyes finally seemed to find the ground. The priest presented them to the meager crowd before she was shuffled away to collect her belongings and say her goodbyes. Such things must have been kept behind closed doors, however, for her brother's expression held the same stern determination as her own.

She opted to take two lady's maids, one with dusty blonde hair in two long curls and the other with wavy gold hair. Both regarded him coldly as they passed. Trowa helped the wavy blonde into the carriage and she blushed. The other blonde was helped by a serious, Asian-looking man who, Heero learned, had been his new wife's guard for years and was married to the lady's maid he assisted.

When the time came to assist his wife, he offered her his hand and she took it, coolly, as she stepped in. She did not look back but neither did she look at him. For the first time in many years Heero found himself nearly regretting his actions. Not the act itself. He always was a man of duty and honor. No. The thing he regretted most was the look in her eyes when they finally met his.

Pain, sorrow... and resentment.

Heero felt his heart twist as he released her hand and closed the carriage door.

That had been hours ago, but the look remained burned into his consciousness. His heart still ached at the memory which confused him and the confusion angered him. And he had little idea how to remedy the situation and even less so if he should even try.

He sighed in exasperation and ran a hand through his bangs. It would be a long ride back to the capital.