#ares fe4

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Ares stood there awkwardly under the large willow tree that was at the center of the garden. He stayed under it as the sun shone too brightly for his liking.

Here he was supposed to meet his wife.

Faced with the truth that he was a married man, the word sat strangely on his tongue.

He’s been married for a day, and right away he was made to make a visit towards Leonster, where his wife and her family lived. Even during the wedding procession, too many people had come up to him to personally congratulate him, many of whom Ares could not properly remember their faces. He had been too preoccupied dealing with those people to even have a chance to talk to his wife.

The night had ended rather quickly, which Ares was thankful for.

Ares stared at everything and nothing, attempting to see if he could spot her. Just as he was about to give up and go inside the palace to escape from the burning sun, someone cleared their throat behind him.

This was a moment when Ares was glad that he didn’t have his sword.

The noise had startled him so badly that he turned around so quickly that he got the other person caught off guard.

At the sight of who the person was, he let out a sigh of relief, though his posture remained tense.

His wife, Altena, his mind supplied helpfully, stood in front of him.

Her long, auburn hair was loose, and she wore a simple crimson dress with white accents complimenting it. She wasn’t wearing anything extravagant, and the only accessory she wore was the plain bandana settled neatly on her head.

Standing before her now, and without the weight of a hundred eyes on him, he took in her appearance in silence.

As he stared, one contrasting detail made its way apparent.

She was taller than him.

For some unknown reason, this seemed to annoy him terribly, and it annoyed him more that he had to crane his neck a bit to properly look at her.

Her near black eyes stared down at him, and Ares cleared his throat, not wanting to look up at her.

An awkward and unbearable silence blanketed them both. To outsiders who knew of their relationship, they most likely saw a newly wed young man and woman, bashful and timid, and not confident enough to talk to their spouse.

To them, though, it was completely different. They had both been unexpectedly thrown to their roles of husband and wife without having a single moment to take the situation in.

Standing before each other, the situation was made entirely clear.

“So,” his wife started, “there’s no point in getting out of this, so we had best get started.” She finished off with a sigh.

Her hand reached out between them and was extended towards him. “Hello, my name is Altena, and I am your wife, whether you like it or not.” Altena said in a monotone voice, before she finished her greeting in a biting and cold tone.

Ares was not offended in the slightest bit, and an ounce of respect welled in him for her.

He extended his hand and shook hers, her grip strong.

He spoke in his usual dispassionate and gruff voice, “My name is Ares, your husband, and I would like it if we could, at the very least, not be at each other’s throats.”

Altena let out a snort, and both let go at the same time.