The shelves held little of interest. A few short story anthologies that could potentially be useful for light reading later, an etiquette guide clearly intended for very young girls that felt like a pointed insult, some decorations that made the shelves appear more full, a couple of novels... Rikuma had an inkling of what she wanted to find, but of course it would not be in her room. She would have to see if she could find a library later or, better yet, Aubron's private study.
Exhaustion soon began to set in. Plans, no matter how important, would have to wait. She settled onto the bed, higher off the ground and far more plush than what she was accustomed to, and closed her eyes. Here, alone, without her studies to keep her distracted, the full weight of her situation set in.
No matter how well she behaved, Aubron would find a way to use this union against her, and against Rashouris. Of that, she was certain. And in the meantime, she would spend the next few centuries spiritually bound to someone who, while nice enough, didn't seem a fitting co-ruler. Or coparent, once she adopted an heir. Then there was the matter of what would come tomorrow. Every question of why her parents weren't here for their only daughter's wedding stung more than she wanted to let on. Not to mention, she still wasn't sure how convincingly they could fake the wedding night. Nothing good would come of this, and she was meant to endure it as she had most things: utterly alone. But at least alone, she did not have to pretend.
When she woke in the morning, she could still feel the stiffness on her cheeks where her tears had fallen, the sting in her eyes. The sun made it feel like she was on fire, and nearly blinded her but, more importantly, someone was knocking on the door. She quickly wiped her face with the sleeves of her sleeping robe, then tossed on a kimono - casual, but still appropriate for mixed company - and her veil. "Who is it?" she asked, glaring at the door.
