Evangelina wasn't sure of who had funded the wedding party, but it didn't look cheap at all. She could see the decorations around the throne room and various large tables were filled with food for everyone. As far as she knew, hundreds – if not more than a thousand – of people were invited. There were nobles from every corner of the country and musicians near the table the newly cwed couple were sat along with their families, ready to attend any request from any of them.

The princess didn't give them any attention, though, but continuously stared at her own skirt while twisting her thin fingers in her ivory dress, until her husband cleared his throat.

"So, Evangelina," he turned to her. "What's your favourite colour?"

The girl arched her dark eyebrows at him, not understanding what he meant while locked in his forest green eyes.

"Your favourite colour," he repeated. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Oh," she felt her cheeks warming up in embarrassment. "It's green, my lord."

He nodded, acknowledging the fact as someone poured wine on the large cup the two shared.

Dean just stared at her for a moment when his wife didn't say anything more and tried to continue the conversation.

"What about your favourite fruit?"

"I don't have one, my lord. I like many of them."

"Like…"

"Berries," she finally affirmed, putting a lose black curl behind her ear. "Grapes, blackberries, strawberries, raspberries…"

"Cherries?" he suggested with a small smile and her blue eyes grew wide.

"Oh, no, my lord. Cherries make my face swallow and my body to become itchy for days," she confessed, embarrassed.

Dean looked at the tables around, and it finally hit him that there was no sign of cherries in the party, possibly to avoid her contact with it.

"Would you excuse me, my lord?" Evangeline decided and he nodded softly.

"Take your time."

Trying to look casual, the princess stood up and walked into a random direction, finding Charlie and quickly having her wrapping her arm around her and held her hand tightly.

"You're cold," she noticed. "Are you afraid?"

Evangeline took a deep breath before confirming with a nod. She could barely feel her toes, already absurdly cold inside the tight shoes. Still, she was smiling it out as a well-educated princess.

"Panicking," she said finally, looking around.

Charlie laughed while caressing her sister-in-law's hand.

"Don't worry. My brother is a good man, he won't hurt you."

She looked confident, though the princess didn't completely believe in her words.

Evangeline wanted the party to go for hours and days long, but time wasn't with her. Each wedding party had a huge pigeon pie, and she knew her evening was coming to an end very soon when theirs was announced.

"Evangline," her husband stood up, his very tall figure creating a large shadow as he moved away from the table. "Come."

She looked at Charlie for a moment and then walked in his direction quietly, standing by his side. He honestly made her feel extremely small.

"Hold it with me, please," he whispered and the new wife complied.

She didn't know who owned the blade but wrapped her fingers around its handle while he wrapped his huge hands on hers. He was so close to her that she was completely engulfed by him, and could easily rest her head on his strong chest, his warmth circling her. When the couple – mostly Dean, honestly - brought the sword down to break the crust, dozens of pigeons left it in a very dramatic way, which made her smile for a moment.

Her blue eyes were glued on the birds as they found their way out of the throne room and her attention only moved away from them when Dean touched her shoulder with his free hand, a gentle smile on his plump lips.

"My mother told me it is a fish pie," he whispered as someone cut a piece for the two of them. "You don't like pigeons?"

"Not really," Evangeline looked down in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, you probably…"

"I don't like it either," he interrupted her, smiling as if it was nothing.

Under everyone's attentive eyes, he fed his wife a piece of the pie carefully, smiling when her pinkish lips curled in delight.

"Thank you," she muttered and he reached out to clean her chin from the crumbles. "Thank you."

The ritual served to calm the girl down, and she even accepted when Samuel – Dean's middle brother – asked her for a dance.

"Princess Evangeline," he smiled as the two started moving elegantly. "You look beautiful."

The girl flushed, looking down at her feet for a moment and he chuckled. Sam looked a lot like his brother but was much taller. Dean even looked short by his side, which he definitely wasn't.

"My brother is a very lucky man," he affirmed, moving gently with her. "And you are a very lucky woman."

"Am I?" she muttered.

Samuel gave his new sister-in-law a small, sad smile.

"I know it is hard," he affirmed. "You don't know each other, but you will soon enough."

Evangeline sighed and he stopped moving, caressing her hand.

"Dean fell for you when he saw a painting of you," he affirmed. "And we all heard many good things about you. He's willing to try, but you need to be too."

He moved his eyes to his side and the bride looked at the same direction, finding her husband waiting for them.

"I'll leave you to be," her brother-in-law walked away, and Dean approached her, offering his hand for his wife to hold.

"Come."

Evangeline felt her heart racing. He had a gentle look on his face but it didn't help her nerves.

"Where?" she questioned.

"To our chambers," Dean said calmly.

The girl frowned, looking around and noticing how no one was paying attention to the two of them more than to the food and wine.

"But the bedding ceremony…" she looked up to his face, taking his offer and her skin meeting his. "I don't understand."

"There will be no bedding ceremony," he caressed her cold skin with his thumb. "Just you and me. Come."