24. Harlow
HARLOW
W eddings in Lunameade are always bright and shining, with huge floral garlands and boisterous music, but in Mountain Haven, the only light in the room comes from a few flickering candles.
This is partially my fault. Wedding ceremonies both in Lunameade and here at the fort mimic tales of the Divine. I chose the love story of Asher and Stellaria, which is a story of darkness.
I thought Henry would be charmed by the callback to the night we met. I also thought it would remind him that our first interaction was me trying to kill him, in case either of us forgets that this marriage is just a means to an end.
I’d hoped the darkness would feel comforting, but it’s done nothing to ease my nerves.
In the stories passed down through generations, the Divine of Malice, Polm, didn’t like that his daughter, Stellaria, was losing focus in her celestial duties as the Divine of Stars, choosing instead to spend her nights with the Divine of Endings. Polm captured Asher and stole him away.
Polm thought Stellaria, ever the dutiful daughter, would take the reminder and go back to work.
He thought the love affair was something temporary since an eternity of existence meant most of the Divine weren’t prone to attachments.
He didn’t realize that Asher and Stellaria had bound themselves together in the Divine approximation of marriage.
Stellaria didn’t go back to her duties. For three full days, she blotted out the stars and sun and moon. She turned the entire world into the deepest, darkest night and went to reclaim Asher.
Now, a room of important Mountain Haven families waits for me to claim and promise myself to a man I can’t stand, before I’m meant to feast and fuck in front of them.
I knew this would be awkward, but I didn’t think about the fact that all of the groom’s guests wear black masks to show their support for him, while the only person here for me is Gaven.
He stands stiffly at the back of the room—the only silver mask shimmering in a sea of matte black.
He’s not even staying for the ceremony. Even though I’m pretty sure nothing scandalous will happen during the vows and blessing portion, I’m not taking any chances. Plus, I figured tonight’s festivities would be his best chance to poke around the rest of Havenwood House with minimal disruption.
I hadn’t counted on how unnerving it would be to look out and not see one friendly face. I suppose it will at least make the consummation ritual less awkward if I can’t recognize every single face in the crowd.
The collective weight of every eye in the room slides over the fine silver silk of my dress and its barely wedding-appropriate cut.
The thin straps cross on my back where the fabric drapes just above my scar.
The silk is so fine and the neckline dips between my breasts enough that I couldn’t wear any undergarments.
It’s a marvel they have access to such delicate fabrics in this remote fort. Generally, they seem focused on necessities only. But the fact that I arrived to a closet full of dresses, furs, and coats—all designed according to Henry’s tastes and preferences—makes me wonder if that’s a front.
I’d always been taught that Mountain Haven was isolated—that the only way out was through the front gates. But, being here, I wonder if they’re not as isolated as they seem.
For all their talk of needing crops, they seem remarkably well-provisioned.
Every meal I’ve had includes fresh fruit and vegetables, and while I know there are some plots on the lower levels of the fort, and nothing is ever wasted, it’s still more variety than I’d expect them to be able to provide .
My stomach dips as Henry’s mother, Evangeline, hands me a candlestick. I shouldn’t be nervous. This part is easy enough. I nod to her, and the crowd stands.
She walks down the aisle ahead of me. “The night comes swiftly. The daughter of wrath. She’s here to claim her love.”
I wait for Evangeline to take her seat at the front of the room. All the candles in the room, except the one in my hand, gutter out at once.
The wax dribbles down the side of the candle, and I try to hold it steady to keep it from dripping on my dress. All I smell is melted beeswax mixed with the delicate floral scent of the Stellarium Blossoms that line my path.
It takes a small eternity to walk down the short aisle.
This is just the first part of the three-part ceremony.
First, the vows and blessing, then the communion, and finally the consummation.
Rationally, I should be most nervous about the public sex, but the biggest point of failure is my ability to be in emotional and spiritual communion with Henry.
Sex is one thing, but intimacy is unnatural.
I make it to the front of the crowd, where Henry sits in a chair with his father, Philip, standing over him.
Philip meets my eye. “You shouldn’t be here, daughter. This tantrum must end. Go back to the sky and do your job.” He projects his loud, steady voice so that everyone in the room can hear him.
“You have something of mine.” I’m relieved that my voice doesn’t betray my nerves.
Philip crosses his arms. “He’s mine now. He’s agreed to stay.”
I don’t feel particularly connected to Stellaria, but the stories of her always make me think of Aidia.
I tilt my chin up and try to summon my sister’s defiance.
“You cannot claim him. He is mine as I am his. We are bound by spirit and veil and blood. You cannot hold what doesn’t belong to you.
I am the darkness at the end of the world. You have no power over me and mine.”
I reach for Henry’s hand and draw him to his feet.
“Praise the Divine,” Henry says.
All at once, the candles in the room burst back into flames, bathing the space in golden light.
“The Divine have blessed us,” the crowd says in response. They clap in approval .
I know the candles are just the work of someone in the room with a blessing from Stellaria making this experience more real, but it’s unnerving to feel the hand of a deity in the room with us, even if it’s just an act.
Philip raises his hand, and the room settles. “It’s my pleasure as both the mayor of this fort and a father to welcome all of you who have come to bear witness to the joining of my son, Henry Asher Havenwood, to Harlow Catherine Carrenwell?—”
Philip continues to speak, but I’m too focused on Henry’s proximity to pay too much attention. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me.
It’s hard to even meet his eye after he saw my scar, after everything he told me last night. But I force myself to hold his gaze because this is just a job. I am just a woman getting married to protect her sister.
Henry’s gaze rakes over me slowly, from the loose braid in my hair strewn with Stellarium Blossoms, down over the dress that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. The silk is so thin, the dress fitted so exactly to my curves that I was nervous I wouldn’t be able to sit down.
“You look stunning,” he whispers.
My mouth falls open in shock for a split second before I can master myself, and his eyes light up.
Divine dammit . I should not let him fluster me so easily. One sob story and one minor favor, and I’m already fawning over him. What would Aidia say?
She’d probably say he’s very handsome and that I should relax and enjoy the fun part of this assignment our parents have given me.
He is annoyingly attractive. His dark hair is a little too long, but it’s combed back into neat waves instead of falling into his dark blue eyes.
He’s exchanged his leather armor for a crisp white collared shirt, a black vest with golden embroidery, and a perfectly fitted matching jacket that shows off his broad shoulders and muscular chest.
“Harlow?” Henry’s whisper rips me out of my thoughts. “Are you ready for the blessing? It might be?—”
“Intense. I know,” I whisper.
I read about this part of the marriage ritual about ten times because it was the most vague. Henry’s parents will call down blessings from the Divine to guide us in our marriage. The book I read implied that those blessings can sometimes have “an effect” on the recipients .
Philip is joined by Evangeline. She places a hand on each of our shoulders and smiles warmly.
I stare at her. Evangeline’s face is warm and open.
She’s beautiful, with dark hair and dark blue eyes like Henry’s.
Faint smile lines crinkle around her eyes, but her skin is otherwise smooth and well-preserved.
It’s hard to picture this woman sitting by while her son is repeatedly, violently killed so that she can bring him back.
I have the irrational urge to slap her, but it’s not as if my own mother hasn’t done her share of enabling.
“People of the Haven,” Evangeline says, her voice clear and strong.
“I ask Divine Asher and Divine Harvain to bless these two children of the Divine, as they have once before. I ask Asher, who has already been so generous to us, to bless them so their lives are long and their fights end swiftly. May Harvain bless them with luck in their endeavors and in their love.”
She holds up a hand, and everyone in the crowd lifts a hand to mimic her.
“May the Divine blessings shine upon them for the good of the Haven.”
“For the good of the Haven,” Evangeline echoes.
She steps aside and Philip takes her place, resting a hand on each of our shoulders.
“People of the Haven.” Philip sounds as commanding as his wife.
“I ask Divine Vardek and Divine Kennymyra to bless these two children of the Divine, as they have once before. I ask Vardek, who has already been so generous to us, to guard them from all who would wish them ill and to strengthen their marriage bond to last for many years. I ask Kennymyra to bless them with all the pleasure of partnership and to make their marriage bed fruitful with many blessed children.”