Chapter 36
Florian
We’re having a courthouse wedding. There are only a few people that we really want here to celebrate with us.
As Grimes says, our love bloomed in the stark surroundings of the Galbravan desert, and it’s fitting to make it official with a simple ceremony.
I still dress up, though. This is me we’re talking about.
I’m wearing my whitest shirt, buttoned respectfully high, even if Grimes is a terrible influence and tried to make me loosen a few more buttons before we left the house.
I’m also wearing a new pair of breeches of the most delicate material, and new shoes, the buckles polished and perfect.
And several bright Callinthen necklaces.
My hair hangs loose, except for two plaits which are twisted around my head like a crown.
My own attempt at recreating Rab’s style.
Grimes says it looks even better, but then he’s very biased.
Grimes places an extra flower in my hair as we stand outside the courthouse, then kisses my forehead.
“You’re perfect, Florian,” he says.
“You are.”
He looks amazing, dressed in a dark, sober Rhennian jacket and trousers which suit his imposing frame.
Even through the jacket, his muscles are visible.
Formalwear looks good on him. No dour hooded cloak in sight.
His eyes are lined with kohl, as per Rhennian tradition for special events.
I decided against joining him, because I don’t want the makeup running halfway down my face like a sooty river when I inevitably cry during the ceremony.
He takes my hand and we walk inside the courthouse.
Breta and her family are waiting for us.
They traveled all the way here by stagecoach to celebrate with us.
My eyes get moist, already, as they come forward to greet us.
Probably the first of many tearful outbursts from me today, if I’m honest. But I don’t feel like I have to hide my “Callinthen” emotions anymore. Grimes never gets tired of my feelings.
“Congratulations, love,” Breta says giving me a big, motherly hug.
“You two look just perfect together,” Prevana says, kissing our cheeks.
The little kids, Beveen and Tav, crowd around, overexcited. But they aren’t quite so little now. They’ve grown up a lot in the last eighteen months. Beveen has lost her baby teeth since I last saw her, and her adult teeth look adorably huge on her.
“Did you two enjoy the journey on the stagecoach?” I ask them.
“It was amazing,” Beveen says with a starry-eyed look. “We saw the whole desert.”
“No, it wasn’t amazing. It was hot and sweaty and exhausting.” Prevana gives a resigned laugh. “But well worth it to be here for your wedding.”
“I told you, Grimes,” Breta crows. “I knew you and Florian were made for each other. I was right.”
“Yes, very clever,” he growls, sounding like it’s killing him to admit it. He can never stand to be proved wrong.
I smack his arm. “Be nice. This is your wedding day.”
Breta glances at the prison tattoo on his neck and her face gets serious. “So this is what you were hiding under that cloak all that time. Silly man. As if I or my girls would care about something like that.”
Grimes clears his throat, no words coming out, just a gruff nod of thanks.
“I told you it was silly to worry about the tattoo,” I say.
“No cheek from you,” he says.
“Yes, Boss,” I say without thinking, and then my face goes on fire as I remember I’m in public.
“Why are you still calling him Boss?” Beveen asks, wrinkling her nose in thought. “You don’t work for him anymore.”
“Come on, girls, give Florian your gifts,” Breta say, struggling not to laugh.
They reach into their pockets and bring out some crumpled pieces of paper.
I think the drawings are supposed to be of me and Grimes, with a lot of red hearts drawn around us.
They’re absolutely adorable, if a bit off in terms of perspective.
I’m all stick-like limbs and masses of dark hair coming almost down to my ankles.
Grimes is just a huge blob in a hood, his mouth a grim straight line.
He isn’t that much taller than me: they have him at least twice my size.
But his facial expression isn’t too far off reality.
“These are wonderful,” I say. “Aren’t they, Grimes?”
“Er, yes. Very good indeed,” he says, looking studiously at the wall. He’s no good at diplomacy.
Jagder, my best friend from Rhennes, rolls in just in time as usual.
He has a rueful, apologetic smile for me, and a warm embrace.
His wife kisses my cheek. They both look exhausted after the long trip.
They arrived in Obal a few days ago but they still haven’t recovered.
They’re aristocrats and not used to roughing it.
Like I used to be until Grimes toughened me up, as I like to joke with him.
And he rolls his eyes and says I’m still spoiled to the core.
“Settling down at last,” Jagder says to me, slapping my back. “You’re letting the side down. I thought you were going to party your whole life.”
“I still party,” I protest.
“Face it, you’ll soon be a boring married like the rest of us,” he says as his wife giggles.
Before I can really fall for their teasing my mother arrives, in a cloud of perfume and all dressed up.
She seems a little dazed, like she can’t believe she’s actually here.
She thought she would miss my wedding, miss the rest of my life, thanks to my father.
She would’ve been afraid to track me down, knowing my father would be perfectly capable of carrying out his threat to me.
Familiar anger starts to churn inside me, dark and sickening, but this is my wedding day.
I won’t allow him to spoil any more of our lives by dwelling on him.
He’s irrelevant. Of the past. I give my mother a long hug and introduce her to Breta and family.
Then I take Grimes aside, getting a little nervous.
It’s time to tell him about my surprise.
“Boss, I have a little gift, I guess you could call it, for you too. I hope it’s okay. Maybe it isn’t kind of thing I should just spring on you...”
He grabs my chin and lifts my head the way I love. I meet his eyes, all sheepish and meek. He loves that, too. His eyes get darker and he lets go of me fast, remembering we’re in public.
“What have you done?” he says.
I point to the door, where a man is coming in, hand in hand with a woman. He looks tentative. He has brown Rhennian skin and black hair.
“Jos,” Grimes say, staring.
“Don’t be mad,” I plead.
Grimes told me the whole story of how he fell out with his best friend because Jos disapproved of his revenge plan.
He wanted to invite Jos and his wife to the wedding, but kept putting it off.
Obviously afraid he would refuse. Finally I wrote to him myself, knowing that Grimes was going to leave it too late.
Grimes clears his throat. “I’m not mad, flower, just… surprised to see him.”
And more than a little scared, I bet. I nudge his arm. “Well, go on, then, go and talk to him.”
Jos is holding a box in his hands, a wedding gift.
He’s here in peace, not to continue the fight, yet Grimes is still nervous.
His outward strength conceals a core of vulnerability.
I’m honored to be one of the only people allowed to see it.
He walks over slowly, and I watch as the two men embrace.
They fall into conversation: fast, excited, like brothers who haven’t seen each other for too long.
I’m trying to give them a little privacy, but Grimes is beckoning me over already.
I approach, nervous. Meeting the best friend is a big deal.
What if he doesn’t like me? But the warmth of Jos’ embrace dispels any worries.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Jos says. “And thanks for keeping this one out of trouble.”
He punches Grimes’ arm. Grimes happy grin is a sight to behold.
I never knew he could smile like this when I first met him.
Then his parents arrive, his father just an older version of him, his mother a tall, surprisingly jovial woman.
I never used to be able to imagine him with parents, either.
It was like he’d sprung fully formed from the earth in that forbidding cloak.
But now I know him, inside and out, it’s not so surprising to see him hug them warmly and get them settled in their seats.
Finally, the guest of honor and officiant arrives: Judge Draved.
He saved both of our lives when I was drugged.
There’s no way we’d be here without him.
He’s looking better than usual, or at least less drunk.
He gives me a wink as he steps up behind the lectern.
Grimes and I step up to the front of the room.
Though I usually love the spotlight, my knees feel weak.
This is so important. Marrying my soulmate.
What if I start to cry and make a fool of myself, or I can’t get the words out, or… ?
Grimes takes both of my hands and squeezes them. As I look into his eyes, all of my doubts fall away.
“Are you two ready?” Judge Draved says.
“Yes,” I say.
“Hell, yes,” Grimes says.
The congregation laughs. We’re conducting the ceremony in Rhennian.
Judge Draved adjusts his glasses, which I’m fairly sure are only there for effect as they’re so low he isn’t even looking through the lenses.
It’s cute that he wants to look serious for our big day.
He flips through his big leather-bound book to get to the vows.
Lots of people write their own, but we’ve chosen the traditional Rhennian ceremony, which has a kind of old-school, raggedy charm.
My feelings for Grimes are too deep to put into words anyway. I know he feels the same way.