But maybe this time…

Ailea took out the wedding dress, tried it on, and sat on a chair. Looking at her reflection, tears fell down her cheeks.

“I look weird,” she muttered softly.

Her head dropped, shoulders trembling. The tears would not stop. Her heart ached and she’d been holding it in, but it broke loose when looking at her appearance. An unbearable weight of sadness filled her. She kept thinking of Rita. She was beautiful. She had a pretty smile. She laughed at ease when with Clint. She lived in a different world from her. Rita lived in the limelight while she lived in the shadows.

After a face-full of silent tears, the door opened. She could hear Tarren’s echoing voice

“Captain, come down quickly!” he hollered.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Clint’s new title and being crowned dukedom of Excalibur hadn’t bothered the knights’ much. Their tone was still friendly as ever, a sign of their tight comradeship.

“Fuck’s sake. Had to make too many excuses to escape from the crowds. Looks like you left early,” Clint, slightly drunk, muttered temperamentally. He looked at the woman sitting down as he took off his jacket. “Isn’t that the dress the Crown Prince gave you?”

“Yes… I’m wearing it for the first time.”

“He doesn’t want to marry you. Why’d he give it to you and why are you wearing it?”

“…”

Was it a difficult question to answer? Clint who thought so immediately changed the topic.

“But why’s your back facing me? Turn around.”

Ailea’s shoulder flinched at his question. “I… I tried putting on makeup, but it looked hideous. I’ll take it off first…”

“…”

“It looks like you like these kinds of things… I tried it on… but… I’m sorry.”

“…”

“I look hideous with mak—“

Without her noticing, Clint walked up to her and touched the chair’s armrest.

“This woman is my bride, huh,” he said, voice a little rough from his drunken stupor.

He couldn’t see her face. It was covered in a veil. He couldn’t see her tears. It was falling.

“Who said you’re not pretty?”

“…”

“When did I ever say you were an ugly woman to look at?”

“…”

“Never, right?

“…”

“Then why?”

“….”

“Why are you crying?”

Clint wiped away her tears with his finger.

“Give yourself some credit. You’re beautiful. If you were truly as ugly as you thought, I’d have run away at first sight and vehemently refused to marry you no matter what.”

He lifted her veil.  Ailea’s shoulder, which shook moments ago, froze from shock.

“You’re not ugly, but you’re acting ugly,” Clint laughed like a true playboy.

Ailea laughed at his joke. When she smiled lightly, Clint grabbed her veil and took it off. He moved in front of her and knelt down, wiping the rest of her tears away with the back of his hand.

“Have you finished crying?” he asked softly.

“Yes…”

“Did I marry a child? How come you cry so well?”

When he teased her mischievously, Ailea giggled, hitting Clint’s shoulder as if feeling to stop fooling around.

Clint chuckled and stood up. “Do you want to go down and have a drink?”

“I can’t drink well. I’m not good with alcohol…”

“It’s fine. You can just sit and watch us.”

“Then… I’ll go.”

Clint loved hearing her voice. It was pleasant and sweet to hear. He stroked her hair and kissed her gently on the forehead.

Ailea’s eyes widened in return.

“We’re married, are we not? I’m at least allowed to do this,” he said, waving his hand. “I’ll wait downstairs. Come on down after your tears dry up.”

He left the room and closed the door, leaving Ailea alone. She stayed there, her eyes blank, before slowly looking back at the door. Then she wrapped her hand around her forehead as her cheeks turned red.

“He’s really… a playboy…” she murmured.

This kiss held meaning, telling her that her appearance did not disgust him in the slightest.

Somehow this small act warmed her heart, a feeling she hadn’t known in ages. This warmth devoured all the aching sadness in her heart in an instant.

Ailea rose from the seat slowly and walked to the door. She looked like she’d cry again, so leaned against the door. She never expected such sort of thing to happen to her, especially not from a man like Clint.

“Thank you, my husband…”