Chapter 36 #2
“This man, Lord Florian Southland, comes here today to demand Grimes Morse’s hand in marriage,” Judge Draved shouts with a striking air. Morse is Grimes’ real last name, which he had to conceal from me during his plan because of his boxing fame.
My dramatic heart loves the theater of it all. In Rhennian tradition, the person who proposed is portrayed as a brave adventurer daring to confront a dragon. Although, it’s been so long since I was called Lord Florian Southland, I almost forget that he means me.
“May I have your hand in marriage?” I ask Grimes. I know the lines off by heart.
“Persuade me,” Grimes says, with a wolfish grin.
The Rhennians know it’s all part of the script. I made sure to explain it to Breta and family, and my mother, so they wouldn’t be concerned.
Judge Draved looks at me severely. “You heard the answer of your beloved. Florian, what can you offer Grimes?”
“My undying love,” I say.
It’s the line everyone uses, but the intensity is all my own. Grimes eyes melt as I look at him. Maybe his kohl isn’t going to make it through the day after all. My own eyes are prickling with tears, but I keep them fixed on him.
“Grimes?” Judge Draved says.
He’s supposed to demand more: there are a bunch of things I’m supposed to offer to him, including protection, care and all my worldly goods. But he veers completely off script.
“I’m sold,” he says.
The crowd bursts into laughter. Grimes looks embarrassed, but determined.
“I mean it,” he says to Draved. “I can’t wait a moment longer.”
His kohl starts to run, black streaks down his brown skin. He’s crying properly now and so am I. I reach up and brush away his tears right in the middle of the ceremony. Stars, I love him so much. It scares me.
Judge Draved’s smile is warm as he says, “As you wish. I pronounce the two of you legally married in the city of Obal, through the entire reaches of the Rhennian empire, in the eyes of the world, and beyond.”
That’s the legal part. That’s all that matters.
We’ve done it. We’re married, and no one can make us part now.
Grimes pulls me into a rough kiss, while applause rains over me and I’m overcome with a feeling that’s both intense and soft and comfortable.
I’m home. Before I can even detach my lips from my husband’s, we’re mobbed by the small congregation.
No one ever gives the couple space or privacy during a Rhennian ceremony; this is a public celebration.
There are hugs and kisses and loud congratulations.
My mother catches Grimes’ hands, smiling at him, pure joy on her face. “Welcome to our family,” she says in Rhennian.
Grimes gives her a little bow, looking so grave and handsome. “Madam, to love and protect your son is the great honor of my life,” he says.
She giggles. “Madam? No need to be so formal. You’re the man who’s making my son’s knees shake.”
Grimes looks at me, kind of scandalized, while I laugh though the happy tears that are still on my cheeks.
“I see where you get the forwardness from,” he mutters to me.
“Ready for a Callinthen tradition now?” I ask him.
He nods, looking half wary and half excited. He watches curiously as our guests head for the vases of flowers in the corners of the room.
“It’s time for the floral blindfold parade,” I say with a grin.
“That sounds… self-explanatory,” Grimes says. “But why blindfold?”
“It’s symbolic. We’ll be oblivious to the rest of the world for a few weeks as we take our cirelli,” I say, using the Callinthen word for honeymoon.
He tilts his head and smiles at me. “Only for a few weeks? Who says I’m letting you out of the bedroom ever again?”
The look in his eyes turns my knees to liquid. I get a sudden vision of him scattering the flowers over our sheets later, and spreading me out to be taken on a bed of petals.
“Behave,” I say. “We can talk like that later.”
He grins with no remorse. “So what do we do?”
“First we have to stay totally still as everyone pins flowers to our clothes.”
I hold both his hands as our friends and family pin the blooms all over our jackets until we look like walking gardens.
Breta has brought some red kive flowers all the way from the dessert.
They’re dried and pressed to ensure they survived the journey, but even so the sight of them brings me right back to where Grimes and I shared our first kisses.
Judge Draved smiles as he attaches a huge yellow rose to my lapel, unleashing a gorgeous scent.
Then, with a flourish, he takes two strips of silk from his pocket.
The soft fabric is placed over my eyes by Prevana, who winks at me before my world goes dark.
As Grimes is blindfolded, his hands get tense in mine.
“Don’t you like it?” I ask.
“It’s a little nerve-wracking,” he confesses, voice tight.
I should’ve known he’d find it worrying to relinquish control. I remember how he tried to hide his fear of the hot air balloon. Not so long ago, he wouldn’t have admitted any nervousness.
“Just say the word and we can stop,” I say.
I feel it through our grip as he takes a deep breath. “No. It’s okay,” he says. “You’ve got me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
I hold onto one of Grimes’ hands and someone—my mother, I’m certain—takes my other hand.
Grimes and I are led outside the courthouse.
The outdoor air hits my nose, fresh but with a hint of smoke and horse dung from the cabs and carriages of this busy city.
Immediately I hear the sound of clapping and wolf-whistles from onlookers on the street.
There are always a few kids hanging around outside the courthouse, and people passing the time, looking out for weddings to cheer for.
“What’s going on?” Grimes asks.
“Now we walk around the city, and people cheer for us,” I say.
There are plenty of Callinthens in this city: a good proportion of pedestrians know exactly what’s going on.
Applause and congratulations ring out as we walk, slow and tentative, but trusting our family and friends to lead us.
I drink in the sounds of congratulation from complete strangers like the best drug as everyone shares in our joy.
I can’t see them, but I can hear genuine happiness in their voices.
Grimes’ hand starts to relax in mine. We turn a corner, our wedding party keeping us steady with hands on our shoulders.
“This is a sweet tradition,” Grimes says. “I didn’t realize Callinth had anything like this.”
He probably thought his enemy empire was all bizarre, martial traditions.
“Sorry,” he adds, like he just realized how his comment came out.
“I had no idea either,” Jagder says. “Maybe we should try to make it catch on in Rhennes.”
The procession lasts for about ten minutes, and then our blindfolds are ripped off, so suddenly I blink in the glare.
We’re standing outside the restaurant where we’re having our wedding dinner.
Our family and friends give us more hugs and kisses as if we’ve just run an impressive race rather than being led around at a snail’s pace.
As soon as we walk through the restaurant door, all eyes fly to us.
Seeing our flower-laden clothes, the whole restaurant bursts into applause.
Obal is big on weddings. Grimes’ hand tenses again in mine.
I know he’s thinking about his tattoo. I place my hand on the side of his neck, covering his prison tattoo while pulling him in for a kiss, acting like we’re giving the customers a show.
They cheer and I whisper in Grimes’ ear, “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Sometimes I can’t help it,” he says.
I hold him tighter. Both of us are still works-in-progress.
Just because we’re married doesn’t mean that all of our insecurities are washed away.
But the beauty is that now we don’t have to face them alone.
I’ll be strong when Grimes can’t be, and he’ll be strong when I can’t.
I stand back, keeping my hand on his neck like a caress, and by the time the wait staff have seated us, everyone’s attention has gone back to their own meals.
We all sit down around a big, circular table. The waiter hurries off to bring wine.
“So how does it feel to be Lord Southland?” I ask Grimes as I spread a napkin over my lap.
He wrinkles his nose, like it’s just occurred to him. “I guess I am Lord Southland now, aren’t I?”
I nod. “According to Rhennian law.”
“I never thought I’d see the day that you join the aristocracy,” Jos says with a laugh.
“It’s very cool,” Beveen says, wide-eyed.
“I suppose it is,” Grimes says. “But to be honest? I don’t really feel like I deserve it.”
“It’s not as though I did anything to deserve it, either,” I point out.
“Or me,” Jagder says cheerfully, with an intentionally dopey look that makes the little kids giggle.
“You should use the title,” I say. “I mean, if you want to. It could be useful. For example, for getting a bank loan for our boxing gym.”
“That’s true.” Grimes’ eyes light up.
I love watching hope spring into those dark eyes.
Land and property here in Obal are much more expensive than in Galbrava.
He’s been working in a bar, and we’ve been saving as much of his wages and mine as we possibly can.
But with the rent on our apartment, saving up has been slow.
A bank loan would help a lot. An application coming from two Lord Southlands might encourage them to dig a little deeper into their pockets.
“No business talk,” my mother says. “This is a joyous day.”
She’s right. I catch my breath as I process the thought: Grimes is my husband. Bonded by law, by desire, and by love. He’s mine.
I look around at the unlikely group, brought together by our love.
A Galbravan prospector’s family, my mother who I thought I’d lost forever, Grimes’ best friend who he thought he’d lost forever, my best friend from home, and the sketchy but ultimately good-hearted judge who saved us.
It’s a far cry from my noble, spoiled life back in Rhennes. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I can’t believe how full my life is now. I have meaning, purpose, and love. I can’t wait to help Grimes make his dreams come true, both in business and in bed together. He wants nothing more than to do the same for me.
He raises his glass and looks me straight in the eyes.
“To you, flower,” he says. “I love you more than words can say.”
“I love you, too.” I drop my voice so he has to lip-read the last word: it’s for him alone. “Boss.”
THE END
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