10. The Gift Unwrapped
Chapter 10
The Gift Unwrapped
T he evening dinner at Suncrown was Celestine’s first time being privy to true magnificence, not in passing, but in enjoyment.
Everything felt right in Tristien’s realm. The scented oils left her skin silken. The bath assuaged the wearies within her.The attendants seemed to know exactly what her body and mind needed before she could even ask. Luxury was not just the fine things, the softness of the chaise, the smoothed ridges of exquisite wall paneling, or the glint of the thousand glass beads of a chandelier. It was someone spending their entire day ensuring she was happy. Well fed. Pampered. Taken care of. Six times over.
Encarmine was a raw wound in her heart, and when she shut her eyes, she still saw him there, off at the border, watching her from his warhorse.
If I sent word, he would invade now and burn this mansion to the ground, claiming me as his bride.
That raw wound was treated, sewn shut, and embalmed with lotions, oils, and luxury. Every knot and twist of her neck and shoulder muscles had been coaxed away by rolling fingers and hands from her attendants. At one point, she lay covered as one worked her feet and put a glaze on her toenails, priming and cutting them, while another massaged her hands and another placed a treatment of strange and pleasant oils on her face.
The thought and terrible betrayal came to her mind unbidden, and she wished she wanted to resist it.
I could get used to this.
They dressed her. A fresh shift, tailored to her body, a gown of white and yellow, jewelry draped her hands but nothing on her neck. Celestine noticed all the attendants wore yellow ribbon necklaces, two or three strands folded over, with a looped emblem they wove through. The emblem was the symbol of Lord Solis’s estate.
An interesting adornment.
When the six attendants brought Celestine before the grand mirror, where white candles that smelled of lemonwood burned in polished braziers for reflective light, she couldn’t help but smile.
Celestine whispered, "Magic," while peering forward. They had coiled her hair, building it and letting it fall in controlled chaos. Her eyebrows sharpened, her lips outlined and brought forth by a smudging of coloring. She looked like a fairy tale.
The clothing, the jewels, the shoes, the gown, the stockings, it all felt so fine. So right.
No longer is beauty just a dice tumble to be weathered by age and warring season. The brush and paint of a face so expertly done, the bath so hot and skin treated, it polishes the gem instead of painting over it.
“Dinner awaits, my dear lady.” One attendant bowed behind her.
“Please, lead the way.”
“It is not our place, Lady Celestine. James shall meet you outside and announce your arrival.”
Celestine thanked each of them, taking their hands in hers. “Thank you, so very much.
The attendants looked down, not meeting her eye as if they were afraid to engage.
“Please, raise your eyes. Your hard efforts could have plowed a field, but instead, you have given me a magnificent gift.”
“James awaits, my lady.” No one met her eye.
Celestine bowed to them in honor and walked to the grand doors in silken slippers. They opened as soon as she was close, two guards in yellow vestments standing at attention for her.
The manservant James waited with eternal patience.
“Lady Celestine, please, to dinner. You are the guest of honor, the wondrous visitor, and the curiosity for all.”
Celestine followed James, who stood to her right, and the guards came behind them down the enormous staircase.
“This evening will be in the ballroom. My Lord Solis has spared no expense.”
“Lord Solis is extremely generous,” Celestine agreed. They walked past the main entrance into a garden parlor, which was white-framed and had high glass showing the immaculate species cultivated within and without.
“My lady, please forgive me. This is not a correction but a message. Lord Solis wishes to be your paramour, lover, and owner of your heart and flesh. Please call him Tristien this evening.”
“I should refer to him as thus when speaking to guests?”
“Indeed, my lady, though all will call him as his proper title.”
They walked down a long hallway now. Scalehall had been adorned with things of war, of conquest, of honor. Here, there was a sparsity. A clean whiteness with flashes of canary yellow everywhere. One room she passed she saw was empty save for a giant marble white statue of a woman hoisted high on rings, her face a meerschaum carving of rapture. This Lord of Summer was not the sun that burned the skin in march. He lit the fields in splendor.
It was hard not to be impressed.
“This is a wonder,” Celestine said aloud. “So many must work so hard to make this place so.”
James didn’t stop walking, but he did nearly miss a step. She felt his eyes upon her. Glancing over, she wondered if she had given offense. “Is something the matter?”
“No, my lady,” The handsome young man said. He had a full face, a shorter stature, and was easy on the eyes like most things in Tristien’s realm. “It is kind of you to notice such a thing.”
“The men that forge crowns are rarely the ones that don them,” Celestine said. “Who wields true beauty? Who possesses it? The one that can wear it, or the one that can create it?”
James nodded as if speaking to a dream. They continued in silence.
Celestine heard the grand gala before she even saw its glimmer. They walked in boldly, four guards of honor on each side of the grand doorway, a hundred people waited.
“Lady Celestine! Of the Unbannered!” James announced.
Every nobleman and noblewoman in Lord Solis’s realm turned. Each woman wore a yellow ribbon of some sort of variation, silken, woven, and jewel-adorned.
“The Final Bride of the Painted Realm!”
Applause broke out, claps and cheers as if she was at some grand tourney or melee. Whatever color she had donned on her cheeks and lips, surely they darkened somewhat in her embarrassment.
The crowd parted, and Tristien, waited for her. Tall, golden, beautiful. He was wealth and control personified. The very air around him seemed to be owned by him. His tunic, frock, and pants were all pale silver with canary yellow and topaz adornment.
He matched her perfectly.
A smooth jawline, white teeth, flashing blue eyes under golden hair. So lean, so fine.
This is him without his circlet. What a marvel this man is. .
“And soon to be betrothed.” Tristien smiled and bowed, sweeping one leg slowly across another, a hand flaying out behind him. A beautiful belt of topaz and gold glittered on his slim waist.
Celestine took him in. This castle, this land, the very sun and sky, it moved upon his whim and he showed it.
Music broke out, light, but grew louder. Tristien walked towards her, taller than any man or woman in the room, his fine shirt splayed open, showing his hairless and sinewy chest.
He took her hand in his and kissed it. His eyes never left hers.
“Lady Celestine, welcome to Suncrown.”
“Tristien… thank you.” Celestine stepped forward, ready to embrace him. She reached out, touching his shirt, feeling the deep line of his abdomen underneath finer cloth than she had known could exist. In a moment, she was in his arms.
“My lord, I am not well versed in dance…” Celestine breathed. He smelled of summer, the summer you ran with your friends along. Where boys kissed you in the warm evenings next to hay bales that looked more and more comfortable the longer their lips touched yours.
His hand held the small of her back. Tristien smiled, looking down. “Your feet say otherwise.”
Celestine followed his gaze. They practically floated above the ground, moving together as if they were two stars circling one another.
“How…”
“Feel your hand in mind, being led, being shown, my touch upon your back. What do you feel?”
“I feel…guided.”
“You are the sails, and I the wind. A ship may turn or cut through it, but it will never be as it should unless it follows what the wind shows it.”
Dancing felt effortless, easy. There was no choice to make, nothing that needed to be worried about. Everyone adored her. Everyone looked upon her in his arms, swirling and spinning upon the floor, wafting on music and his majesty, and she found she loved it.
“I understand. I am to attend your chambers this evening.” Celestine looked up at him.
Nothing wavered for this Lord of Season. How could it? She danced with a piece of summer itself.
“They will be our chambers, Celestine. You will be my bride. You will never leave wish to leave the realm of the Yellow Banner. I know Encarmine took your crest, but I will own your soul.”
It felt so true, hearing it from his lips. Tristien brought her in closer as the dance ended so only she could hear.
“I will take you, Celestine, and never let you go.” His hands circled her back, locking there for a moment. “I cannot wait for you to see your gift.”
They broke, and Celestine's face flushed. She smiled up at him. It was so hard to do anything else. “I look forward to it.”
Tristien introduced her to everyone. She had been nervous about seeing him again, but when she was on his arm, it felt like every fear and anxiety she ever had simply could not exist in his presence. He steered her around the room.
“My lady,” a beautiful older noblewoman greeted her with her husband. “We are so pleased to have you. We hope Lord Solis comes with a bride every year, but none seems to last!”
“Thank you…,” Celestine looked at Tristien.
“Lady Lapis,” Tristien said. “and Lord Donal, my highest Bannerman.”
“A pleasure, Lady Celestine.” Lord Donal bowed. He reached out to take her hand.
“No,” Tristien’s voice landed like a hammer.
Does he think I will take offense?
Lord Donal did not miss a beat. He brought his hand to his chest, bowing. An apology would have cheapened him, and when Tristien spoke not to touch Celestine, it was as if the law itself had been written the moment it was uttered.
She wished to give Donal a reprieve. Celestine saw now that his wife’s yellow ribbon around her neck, which was like jeweled silk, looped down her neck, and the end ended in her husband’s hand.
“Your necklace, Lady Lapis, your husband holds it?”
“It’s actually his, Lady Celestine. A gift to me when I pledged myself to him. We have been together ever since. It is a custom in our land. Have you not seen a ribbon ceremony at a wedding or a pledging?”
“Her realm differs in many ways.” Tristien drank from his fluted cup, eying Celestine with a smile.
“Are your people able to visit the Painted Realm?” Celestine asked.
Lord Donal shook his head. “The only way is through Calendar, my lady. We do not visit other banners even. Long ago, the Lords of Season brought us here, or perhaps there. They will not tell us. We are not keen to know. Even if we could, we would never stray from Lord Solis’s realm. It is simply too lustrous.”
“I would agree,” Celestine spoke and looked at Tristien. It would be hard to leave such a man or his world here.
More servants and attendants came. Lady Dawncrest and she chatted, comparing customs and tales of the land of the Yellow Banner. She was fascinated to learn of her time with Encarmine and his people.
“I can’t imagine the hands of that brute. I have always wondered if he and Lord Solis are brothers, and my husband has traveled to the Red Banner once on a trade delegation. He said the people that walked there were killers.”
“Soldiers.” Celestine thought of Dritha and her friends in the barracks. Even among this propriety, I miss them. I would love to see the shocked look on these dandy faces.
Massive men carried heavy tables into the middle of the ballroom, clearing the space. These servants looked vastly different as if used for pure labor, like horses. Their necks did not hold yellow necklaces but rather scarves.
“Are those captives?” Celestine asked.
“Bonded men, you do not have these in your realm?”
“We do not.” Celestine watched the large men leave, heads down. “Are they criminals?”
“Shh, the toast comes.” Lady Lida nodded. Celestine turned and saw Solis raise his hands. Among the dozens and dozens of lords and ladies in the room, the faces of the attendants cast down and the servants hurrying to plate the food among the table and bring in chairs. His control and assertion were absolute.
“It has been many times to Calendar, my dear friends. Where the Seasons indulge themselves in wanton gluttony and lust. The brides of the Painted Realm are contenders for the hearts of beasts like me.”
Polite laughter littered the floor.
Tristien looked over at Celestine. “This evening is for Lady Celestine. To welcome her to our realm. To begin our courtship. For I seek to win her favor. I may not have the stink of horseflesh or the scars of a warrior to woo her.” More laughter came.
Tristien’s eyes locked onto hers. “But it is the majesty of devotion. Of love. Of service, labor, and the trappings of devotion that will surrender her heart to me. So let us give toast before this merriment to brave Celestine, the Final Bride of Calendar. May Summer reign!”
“ May Summer reign! ” the room echoed.
The feast began, and Celestine was seated at the head of the table next to Tristien. He ate sparingly and placed many dishes in front of her, bidding her to taste them.
The wine flowed with carbonation and sparkles, a yellow grape pressed into a tight brightness that glittered in the glass. Discussion, talk, and jokes rang across the table among the lords and their wives.
“I must attend to myself, my lord.” Celestine went to rise, but Tristien grabbed her wrist. His blue eyes flashed, then softened. His grip loosened, taking her hand and kissing it.
“Of course, my love. Just ask.” Tristien snapped his fingers, and a servant came forth. “Have a lady escort Lady Celestine to the powder room.”
“At once, Lord Solis.”
He did not nod nor thank the servant. Celestine felt the wine flow and followed the servant out of the hall while others ran past, carrying the next course.
“This way, my lady.” A female attendant came forward and escorted her to a powder room. The raucous ballroom behind her finally ceased its loud assault, and she heard her own footsteps. As they walked out into the hallway, Celestine heard something and turned.
A servant spread her hands on the table, bent over and heaving. Celestine saw a nobleman behind her, ravaging her with his lust. The serving girl looked neither shocked nor in rapture. For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Two other noblemen standing on either side, sifters of dark liquor in their crystal glass, watching with feigned interest. The door shut as she passed.
“What is happening in there?” Celestine asked.
The attendant turned, seeing the shutting door, and her face turned from confusion to complacency.
“Lust comes with the wine, my lady. She is serving him willingly, I assure you. All do.”
Celestine kept walking. A bit tipsier than she had been earlier today, but… something seemed wrong.
They were standing around, watching her being bred like a prize mare. Like noblemen trying out a new saddle and tack.
Once she came from the powder room, the door was still closed. She walked back into the hallway towards the raucous goings-on inside.
She floated on air the rest of the evening, sitting next to Tristien. He knew when to speak and when to listen. Everyone fought for his attention, even the most experienced noblemen and women. The servants always smiled when near him.
Towards the middle of the dinner, he placed his hand on her thigh. Tristien leaned over to catch her ear.
“If it were up to me, we would end the evening now.”
“Is that so?” Celestine smiled, caught up in the merriment.
Tristien’s beautiful young face nodded down, and she looked to his thigh, where his arousal slid thickly along his silver trousers.
“It’s agonizing, to sit next to your beauty.”
Celestine blushed, looking up. He hardens for me, just me sitting here. The lust of these gods will be the death of me.
When she tried to think of Encarmine he seemed far away, even in her mind.
The powers of these Seasons are like each realm is its own universe. I was a pining heartbroken girl this morning, now I am doted upon, and this strange magic makes me a heartless shrew.
“Not before my elaborate gift,” Celestine laughed. Then she slid her hand across his muscled thigh, down, feeling him. It was so thick.
Laughter rang out as a bawdy joke was made. A nobleman tugged his wife’s dress down, freeing a single breast, which she cackled at and covered while bringing her dress up.
“A lively court you have, Tristien.”
Tristien sat back, surveying his people and realm, a table that sat some hundred, attended to by nearly twice that. Celestine saw the servant in the room with the three noblemen, walking and smiling, chatting with another servant.
She looks in good spirits. Or is it a mask?
Tristien stared down at the table of guests. “Nobility acts with vulgarity to enjoy themselves. The yeoman and bonded laborer treat themselves to morsels of luxury. It’s funny how one side of the wheel seeks to imitate the other.”
“Perhaps we seek to enjoy that which we are not, or do not know?” Celestine sat back, watching the party with him.
Tristien reached out, holding her hand on the arms of their dining chairs for all to see. She left it there, a little drunk, gay, and merry from the feast and dining.
“A gilded saddle?” Celestine asked.
“Wrong again,” Tristien laughed and grabbed her hand. They raced down the hallway of his palace. More wine had come as the dinner ended. She had never been this intoxicated.
“A horse painted yellow!” Celestine laughed.
“Incorrect!” Tristien raced now, dragging her along with him.
After they slowed, Celestine caught her breath. Tristien was looking at her, wanting something.
“What is it? Did I tear something?” Celestine looked around her gown.
“Encarmine did not steal your hope?”
Celestine’s face softened. Tristien’s glowed in the candlelight of the mansion.
“He won my touch, my taste, and my embrace of him, in truth. He said he had to court me in his way, so I knew what he was. I thought it noble.”
Tristien stared at her. “I am surprised as anyone, to say I agree.”
“Will you do the same, Lord Tristien?” Celestine spread her hands to the opulent hallway. “Shall you draw me baths and drown me in your wares?”
“If you wish.” Tristien grinned and bowed. “But I feel unoriginal. I intended to court you in my own way. I seek you to know me, Celestine. And I seek to know everything about you.”
Celestine grinned back. “I know a few places we can start. Take me to bed.”
This may be a mistake, but the wine helps me make it. Bless whomever first pressed the grape into a reason to forget one man and drown yourself in another.
Tristien took her hand and led her up the staircase. “I have to show you your gift.”
It’s going to be his bed, of course. And maybe I want to see it. And feel it. And sweat and sleep in it with him. In the morning, we will not dress but be dressed in the luxury of this world.
She followed him down a different hallway to his chambers. The doors opened on their own. There were no guards here.
There was nothing short of opulence in his chambers, either. A broad featherbed, larger than three put together, sat on the far wall, the canopy above it the canary yellow of his emblem. The sun sigil adorned the walls in topaz figures. Long windows framed the entire room, but the curtains were closed.
“Here it is.” Tristien led her to the middle of the room where a sole table sat high, like a speaking pillar. A beautiful box of diamonds and lace waited for her.
She walked up to it. “It's beautiful.”
Tristien slid behind her, and the doors shut. He pressed his body against hers from behind, his hands slid up and down her sides.
“I made it for you,” he whispered, kissing the nape of her shoulder and neck. Celestine shuddered and ground back against him. He was hard for her, pressing through the gown of her dress. His fingers explored the lacing of the back of her corset. Tristien’s touch made her ache. She wanted to please him. There were no lordly contests here. He saw what he wanted and would have it. She would sleep here, she would serve his body, and he would serve hers.
“Open it,” Tristien ordered. His voice was a bit firmer.
Celestine smiled, a night of sparkling elegance encasing her as much as the fine gown she wore. Everything sparkled here. Even the wine. Everything glittered in his estate, from his fields to his wine and now… his women.
Celestine undid the silver clasp on the box. Tristien stepped from behind her, moving across to watch her open it.
She raised the lid of the box, looking down.
A loop of metal sat in the box. She lifted it out, not understanding.
It was dirty. The hinges were uneven. The metal rough, with a single metal ring that creaked when it moved.
She held it out into the light.
When she looked up at Tristien, the warm, affable glow of his eyes was gone. Complete ownership stared back at her, deadly serious… and she was afraid.
The price beneath the surface.
“Put it on,” Tristien’s voice was rough. Sharp.
Celestine’s hands trembled. This was no thing of beauty.
Nothing opulent or lovely.
It was a collar.