34. Raea
Raea
I wipe my hands down my gown, taking a steadying breath.
Last night, men from around the system arrived, all hoping to Bond with me.
I’m waiting with my mother and Mera in a room off to the side while the men mingle.
Every part of my body is twisting or shaking with nerves.
I know how this ends, but I still can’t convince my body of it.
After fake Bonding Ceremony practice this morning, I know there are at least a handful of men out there whose lips may very well be on mine tomorrow morning.
The very thought makes me want to throw up.
Ryker and I have had very deep conversations this past week, airing it all.
Last night, I didn’t get to bed until late, having to spend time diplomatically entertaining our guests. The only “worshipping” Ryker managed was helping me into bed, where he held me against his chest as I drifted off to sleep.
He understands what must be done, though he promised he’d knock them out if they even thought about using tongue.
I hate all of this.
“You look beautiful,” my mother says, standing beside me.
I am wearing a delicate ice-blue gown, a masterpiece of sheer silk overlaid with a galaxy of gold and silver stars that shimmer with every breath I take.
The front plunges into a deep V, and the back dips dangerously low to my waist, the fine material feels like a celestial second skin.
The sheer sleeves catch the light as I move, trailing behind me with every step.
Mera has woven my hair into intricate loops and thick, regal braids that crown my head.
The custom moonstone crown is bracketed by crescent moons and a brilliant diamond.
My parents added a sapphire that dangles above my brow.
It rests perfectly against the gold filigree and pearls woven into my hair.
It matches the necklace from Ryker that I am still wearing.
I’ve moved my engagement ring to my left hand, so it doesn’t look like the promise it is.
Wedding bands are traditionally worn on the right pointer finger.
My mother squeezes my hands. Her chestnut hair is pulled up in a low bun with her golden crown glittering even in the dim light. “All will be as it should, my dear. You both have a role to play. By this time tomorrow, you will be the most beautiful bride.”
I nod and swipe away a stray tear.
“Okay, head high, my dear.”
With that, my mother leaves me. Mera gives me a small smile as the ballroom doors open and all eyes turn to me. With a deep breath, I take my first step toward my future.
The ballroom has been transformed into a living fairytale.
Towering trees, no doubt summoned by my mother’s hand, stretch toward the vaulted ceilings, their branches heavy with wisteria and vines that weep over the white linen tables.
Thousands of twinkle lights are buried within the foliage, casting a soft glow that makes the gold dishes and flickering candles dance like stars.
The room is draped in a soft, low light with the center of the room open for dancing. It’s where all forty-three men now wait, all wanting my attention. My father is on the dais ahead, along with my mother, Queen Priana at their side. That’s where I focus as I walk forward.
The men bow as I walk the aisle toward the dais, and my stomach swirls with a sickening unease. I focus on my steps—one in front of the other—and recite the properties of the Aethermark Bond Elison described, using the lore like an anchor to keep my head high.
The Aethermark is a Bond forged in creation—the resonance of one soul divided into two parts.
I take another breath, the ice-blue silk of my gown shimmering like starlight itself.
A Bond, once initiated, cannot be broken or undone.
The trial period begins when the two accept the reality of the Aethermark.
I repeat the words internally, a silent prayer against the forty-three pairs of eyes watching me.
When the lifeforce awakens, the mark will fight for completion.
By the time I reach the final row of suitors, I’m acknowledging the truth. This ‘Ceremony’ is a theater for the kingdoms, but the Bond? The Bond was sealed the moment we accepted it beneath the stars that night at school. I am not walking toward the unknown—I am walking toward my mate.
Ryker steps forward, and for a heartbeat, the forty-three other men in the room cease to exist. He is a vision of Okenen royalty, his dark hair perfectly coiffed—despite me running my fingers through it a few hours ago—and his royal coat broad across his shoulders.
“Princess,” he purrs, bowing as he takes my hand. His eyes dart to my engagement ring—now a secret hidden on my left hand—and that familiar smirk tugs at his lips.
As we move to the dais, his hand slides across my back, sending a jolt of golden heat through me that makes my breath catch. He pulls me flush against his side before he whispers low enough for only me to hear. “You look stunning.”
When I stand beside my father, I see the tears gathering in his eyes. His mouth lifts softly before he turns to address the room.
“Honored guests, friends of Treon and Malaya, and esteemed allies,” he begins, his voice carrying easily across the hall.
“First off, a huge thank you to Queen Priana and Prince Anders for being our gracious hosts. To all of you, we are deeply grateful that you have journeyed here tonight, despite the shadow of war gathering beyond our borders.”
My father glances at Ryker and me momentarily.
“Yet even in uncertain times, there are moments meant for celebration. Tonight, it is my greatest honor to present to you my daughter—Raea, Princess of Treon.”
His voice softens. “May this evening be one of joy, fellowship, and new beginnings. The tables are prepared, the music will soon begin, and I hope you will join us in making this a night none of us will forget.”
It’s then that I notice the royal families gathered around tables throughout the room, their crests gleaming in the candlelight. And scattered among them are plenty of young women ready to fill the dance floor.
I breathe a little easier.
I take my seat beside my father, Ryker on my other side, as the men shuffle to the tables. The meal is brought out—plates of roasted meats, colorful vegetables of all kinds, creamy soups, and greens. Rolls are placed on the tables alongside the wine.
My father talks with my mother, leaving me to sit quietly with Ryker. I don’t want to talk, much less eat. Instead, I push the food around my plate, nibbling every so often to give the appearance of being calm and collected, though I feel anything but.
Ryker slips his hand to my thigh under the table, his thumb softly brushing small circles.
The first dance is mine and whomever my father chooses. Thankfully, it’s Ryker, who gladly meets me in the center of the dance floor. When the music starts, he bows and then leans in, pulling our bodies flush.
“We’re a little close,” I whisper as he takes the lead.
Cameras flash from around the room, and I know more than one person is probably streaming this dance—I wouldn’t put it past Ciara.
“And?” he says. He spins me away from him before I slam into the muscle mass of his exquisitely toned body.
“And I am a princess,” I tease. I don’t care really, but it’s inappropriate, and I don’t want other men thinking they can dance with me like this.
“And I am your mate,” he retorts, his eyes swirling with more silver light than I’ve ever seen.
“Thank you,” I say, taking two steps back before twirling back into his arms.
“For?” he asks as we step shoulder to shoulder toward the dais before turning back to each other.
“I needed to laugh. I feel like I can’t breathe.”
The song is coming to an end, but I don’t want it to. I want to remain safe in his arms. Instead of the usual end of a twirl, he bends me back, leaning in close as my hair brushes the floor beneath me.
For that minuscule second, his lips brush the pulse point of my neck, and the thrum of our Bond drowns out the music and the clicking cameras. It's a reminder that no matter who else is in this room, I am already claimed.
“It’s all for show, my love.”
Then I’m back upright and time resumes. The crowd claps as Ryker once again bows before me.
The next dance belongs to Sir Mikl. He is a few years older than me from Kadora. He looks as nervous as I feel. At least he’s good at dancing. He barely touches me as we dance and keeps a good arm’s length of distance.
Because the crowns have all demanded an official Ceremony, I’m supposed to be using this time to narrow down who I have a Bond with. Little do they know, the answer is none. I feel absolutely nothing. The Lumos Bond is gone. It disappeared the moment the Veil fell.
I thank him for the dance and move on.
An hour later, I retreat to a private courtyard off the ballroom. Queen Priana is out here and startles me when she stands from the fountain.
“My dear.” She embraces me in a hug. “You look beautiful. This gown, your hair.” She inspects me like I’m hers, and I so badly want to be. I am still a ball of nerves. She searches my eyes and then leads me to the fountain to sit with her.
The air in the courtyard is a relief, cool and misty, smelling of damp soil and ancient pine.
Queen Priana stands by the fountain, her own golden crown glittering under the moons.
Her eyes—so like Ryker’s—search mine, and I feel a wave of calm wash over me that feels suspiciously like she’s using her own gift to settle my frayed nerves.
“Much better,” Queen Priana says with a smile. “I remember my Bonding Ceremony. I threw up twice before the ball and then right after dinner. I couldn’t even finish the evening. After a few dances, my father excused me to my chambers.”
“Really?” I ask, feeling relieved.
“This is a lot to deal with. Bonding may be a gift from the gods, but it is also a burden. It’s a good thing we know how this ends.”
We stay in the courtyard for a little while longer. I love talking with her and hearing her stories. She’s an inspiration and calming presence. When I feel calm enough to return, I excuse myself.
The rest of the evening dissolves into a dizzying blur of silk, scent, and strangers.
Men are shuffled in and out of my personal space like cards in a deck, but I keep my focus sharp enough to manage a mental list. Out of forty-three, I’ve narrowed it down to seven who won’t make a scene during the Ceremony tomorrow—Kellan, Ryker, and Kamden included.
At least with Kamden playing along and a repentant, muttering Kellan, I don’t have to worry about a battle for my lips on the dais.
“Need a break?” Ryker’s voice is a low vibration against my ear, cutting through the hollow small talk I'm making with a family from my kingdom.
I nod, the relief nearly making my knees buckle.
Together, we slip away from the heat of the ballroom and out onto the sprawling lawn, where the air carries the sharp tang of the sea.
The sun is a sinking orb of liquid fire on the horizon, turning the surface of the pools into shimmering gold—a final, beautiful moment of peace before the world changes forever.
“There you are!” Ciara’s voice rings out as she sprints toward us. She throws her arms around our necks, nearly knocking my moonstone crown askew. “You’re getting married tomorrow!” she squeals, her excitement a bright, loud contrast to the tension in my gut.
We both laugh, the sound so familiar, yet it feels like a loss as the rest of our group catches up. My life is changing tomorrow.
Tate, Trysten, and Kamden join us, though Kellan lingers at the edge of the circle, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
The wine has made everyone’s voices animated and light.
Tate is already halfway through a dramatic reenactment of a noblewoman practically humping Trysten on the dance floor when the laughter dies in my throat.
Moving across the grass, her face a pale, ghostly mask in the dying light, is Aolyn. The magic of the evening shatters the moment I see the tears in her eyes.