Chapter 21 Entertainments
Entertainments
Raewyn
My wedding day. It didn’t seem real.
And something about it didn’t seem quite right, though it was what I’d always wanted.
Perhaps I was just tired. Since early morning, my chambers had been a flurry of activity.
It started with a dress fitting.
A gorgeous dress, which I could only assume had originally been meant for Lady Helina, arrived at my door along with a seamstress and her assistant. I stepped into it and stood patiently for hours while they altered it to fit me.
A series of beautification treatments followed. Every woman who came to my room to administer them and prepare me for tonight’s ceremony asked the same question.
“Aren’t you excited to be marrying the King?”
Every time, I answered with some variation of, “Yes, very excited.”
But I wasn’t certain the sensations coursing through my body were the result of excitement exactly. Tightness in my chest, shivering and nausea, an empty feeling in my stomach though I’d been well fed.
Everything was happening so fast. Yesterday I was on a horse, escaping from Pharis. Tonight I was leaving my chambers at Seaspire to go downstairs and marry his brother, the new King.
My attendants had been chattering all day about what the evening would hold. Apparently a great feast and several entertainments would precede the actual wedding ceremony.
Back in the village where I’d grown up, wedding events happened in the opposite order, but the Fae did things differently. I was far from that human existence now, in every possible way.
It felt almost like I was living a different life. I was about to become the Queen of Avrandar.
I was about to be Stellon’s wife.
Again the nauseous sensation stirred in my belly. Though I’d just left my chambers to head for the mechanical lift, I wondered if I should turn around in the hallway and run back inside to the washroom.
Then a thought floated to the surface of my mind and settled my stomach.
I love Stellon.
Right. Yes. Of course.
I loved him, and this was what you did when you loved a person the way I’d always loved him.
I mean, look at what I’d done to get back to him.
I’d escaped Pharis’ castle, stolen a horse, and managed to navigate hundreds of miles of roads from Stormcrest here to the royal city. Somehow.
The fact that I couldn’t remember actually doing any of that was a bit unsettling, but I was here wasn’t I?
The sick feeling threatened to return, but the lift came to a stop on the first floor, and its golden doors slid open to reveal Stellon waiting for me.
He was resplendent in a blinding white tunic and breeches, his wavy blond hair shining. His eyes shone too as they raked over me, examining my appearance from head to toe.
He stepped forward with his hands outstretched.
“My lady,” he breathed. “There has never been a more beautiful bride.”
I stepped out of the lift, followed by my attendants, who held the back of my dress to keep it from dragging the floor.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said stiffly.
Stellon laughed. “You don’t have to call me that. You’re about to become ‘Her Majesty’ in a few short hours. Come… everything’s ready for the wedding feast.”
Taking my hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm and began walking toward the ballroom.
My feet felt like they were made of lead as we walked together—it must have been the heaviness of the dress. As we reached the ballroom doors, two footmen opened them.
Hundreds of faces turned toward us. A hush fell over the previously noisy room.
Then the crowd parted, and Stellon escorted me past scores of staring eyes up to the dais.
Some things hadn’t changed about the space. I remembered the massive chandeliers and the wondrous glass dancefloor with the ocean creatures swimming beneath it.
I remembered the incredible sea glass throne as well, where King Pontus had sat watching the Opening Night ball festivities.
But now there was a matching, albeit smaller, throne beside it.
Stellon led me up the dais stairs and to the smaller throne. As I turned to sit on it, my attendants moved and spread my dress so that its long train flowed down over the steps.
My groom took his seat beside me and waved a hand. The music resumed along with conversation.
I looked over at my soon-to-be husband in his crown and wedding finery and then out at the crowd.
This was all so surreal.
I couldn’t remember everything about my captivity in Pharis’ castle, but I remembered luxury and incredible beauty. During that time I’d grown used to grand spaces and Elven faces.
But this was… it was a lot. I hadn’t felt like such an outsider since the night I’d infiltrated the Opening Night ball in disguise.
How was I supposed to serve as Queen to these people? I was barely even familiar with their way of life. And yet, that title came along with being Stellons’ wife, so it must be the right thing.
He took my hand, running his thumb over the backs of my knuckles, and I had to suppress a shudder. It took effort not to snatch my hand back to my own lap.
What was wrong with me?
This was my wedding night. I was about to marry Stellon, my true love.
“I’m so happy you’re here, my heart,” he said with a smile.
“My only regret is that I didn’t know where you were earlier.
If I’d known you were being held against your will by my selfish brother, I would have marched up to his castle and rescued you sooner.
You and I could have been long-married by now. ”
My head nodded in agreement, but something deep inside me began a silent chant of no, no, no, no.
The start of the entertainment was a welcome distraction.
A bard performed first, his high, haunting voice touching my soul.
Though he sang in Old Elvish and I couldn’t understand most of the words, I was nearly in tears by the time his song ended.
A troupe of acrobats performed next. Their strength and abilities were astounding, their feats far beyond anything human athletes might hope to achieve.
Many times my heart stopped, and my hands came up to cover my mouth.
After that, an Elven couple performed a powerful yet graceful dance, and then a quartet of musicians played what must have been a popular song among the Court based on the applause that followed.
Though I enjoyed each performance, my eyes kept drifting to the clock high on the wall across from me. Every minute that passed was one closer to the time we’d be married. It couldn’t be long now.
As the musicians lifted their instruments and left the center of the ballroom, I turned to Stellon.
“Is that it? Are the performances finished?” I asked.
“My eager bride.” He flashed an indulgent smile and leaned over to give me a kiss that was, thankfully, brief.
I still wasn’t warming up to the physical contact thing, in spite of my love for Stellon. How long was it going to take?
My new groom wouldn’t be too pleased to find his “eager bride” cringing at his touch tonight. What if I couldn’t get over this weird ick reaction by then?
Unaware of my internal turmoil, he gave me a covert grin. “There’s just one more entertainment to come. I think you’re going to like it.”
“What is it?” I asked.
Just then the ballroom doors opened, and a group of ten men walked in, forming two lines and carrying a long, wide stone cylinder between them on their shoulders. It was the size of a massive tree trunk and was carved with symbols unfamiliar to me.
Apparently the others knew what it meant because gasps filled the room.
Reaching the center of the ballroom floor, the porters moved simultaneously to set the cylinder on one of its flat ends. It settled into place with a loud thud.
Standing upright like that, the pillar was much taller than the tallest of the men, and I doubted if any of them would be able to reach all the way around it.
At first I assumed it was an elaborate prop for another dance or perhaps a short play.
And then I saw the manacles attached to the post at various heights.
What was going on?
Another man walked through the open doors. He was wide and hulking and wore a black mask over most of his face.
In his hand was a whip.
My hand crept over my stomach which was filled with a sinking sense of dread.
A flash of memory took me back to that horrible day in the arena where a similarly dressed and masked man stood ready and waiting to end my life at the end of a noose.
Were we about to witness an execution? On my wedding day?
Was that some sort of macabre Fae tradition I hadn’t heard about?
My face broke out in a cold sweat, and my stomach started trembling. My hands, too, were shaky when I reached to tug at Stellon’s sleeve.
“What is going on?”
He didn’t look at me but kept his eyes trained on the empty ballroom doorway in anticipation of what was coming next.
“Justice,” was all he said.
Two burly guards came through the door. Between them they held the arms of a tall man in iron shackles.
There was a hood over his head, but I knew instantly who the prisoner was.
His powerful body had been stripped down to a single undergarment, leaving the rest of him—including his prominent chest tattoo—visible for all to see.
Pharis.
I rocked in my chair, clenching my jaw as I watched the guards remove his shackles and lock his wrists into the iron hand restraints on the column.
Then one of them removed his hood. I sucked in a breath.
Someone had cut off Pharis’ beautiful long hair.
His waist-length locks were now short, barely reaching his ears in choppy, uneven layers that looked like they’d been carved with a dagger.
He was facing the stone monolith, his chained arms stretched above his head, his back bared to the shocked crowd.
There were whispers and even a few outcries of surprise and confusion.
“Is that the missing Prince?”
“Pharis Randalin is alive!”
Gripping Stellon’s forearm, I turned to him with pleading eyes.
“What is happening? What is he doing here?”
I thought I’d left Pharis back at Castle Stormcrest. How had he gotten here? When had he been captured?