Chapter Three
Rolan tried to keep still as the attendants fixed him with the proper wedding garments. Customarily, the dressing was done in a room just outside the Chapel of Ancients, and to his surprise, this time… there was no exception made for him.
He’d been prepared to dress himself, just as he’d bathed alone. But upon arriving, two stiff-lipped maidens ushered him in and got to work.
He couldn’t help but wonder if this was the beginning of a welcome change in the way he was viewed by his people. Perhaps marriage would mean he could hold his head higher amongst them. Perhaps even prove himself in battle.
He was strong—the Empress had made him so—and could fight as well as any of the Vegoths. But he’d never been allowed to battle with the others. “Ha!” the Empress had laughed when he suggested it once. “No one wants you out there either, my pet. Your curses follow you everywhere. The dungeon is the only place for you.”
He’d hoped to either fight his way into a better position or die on the frontlines and end his misery. Truthfully, he’d have been happy with the latter.
Now, he was actually glad he hadn’t. If he’d died out there on a battlefield, he wouldn’t be here today for his bride.
“Be still,” the maiden snapped, trying to fit a cuff that was too small around his bicep.
He attempted to settle, futily striving for patience. The ceremony couldn’t begin soon enough.
He’d tossed and turned all night wondering about his bride. Did she have dark fur like him, or lighter? Maybe her hair-covered skin was fair and blond. He thought maybe hers would be soft to the touch and not coarse like his. But even if it wasn’t, he’d love exploring her, learning her.
Just a little longer, bride, he thought. And this torture will end. We’ll be together.
Just a little longer and he’d be able to breathe. Free of the Empress, free of his loneliness, free of his shame.
What seemed like hours later, he stood tall as the chainmail veil was lowered over his face. His bride would wear one too, adorned with flowers, so that neither could see the other until the veils were lifted.
It was almost time.
As he followed two weathered Ancients down the aisle, each step brought him out of his miserable past and into a hopeful future. With each step, he stood taller, braver. With each step, he felt more like a man and less like a monster.
He would take his scorned bride and make a life with her. A life worth living. One like he’d never had before. Like she’d probably never had before. He would love her more than she’d ever been loved. Because he needed her to love him back.
He needed love.
It wasn’t something he’d ever admitted before, when it was so out of reach. But now, walking down the aisle to her, he could.
Thank you, he thought, hoping the Ancients could hear him. Thank you.
Peering to the front of the cathedral, he spotted his bride and his heart pattered away in his chest. She wore a gown of silver to match the brilliance of her veil and a crown of pale pink roses sat upon her head. There was no hint of her hair through the veil. Blonde or brunette, he wondered. Ruby or raven?
As he approached, he could see she was much smaller than him. Petite, with a small waist and curved hips. He would enjoy bringing her into his arms to make her feel safe. He would be like a fortress around her.
He stopped before her, standing closer than was customary. But she seemed to shrink from him. How frightened she must be. If only he could send her some kind of message to let her know it would be all right.
They only had to get through the vows, then the veils could be lifted and she would see she was perfect for him.
“You may greet,” the officiant said.
His bride made no move so Rolan eased forward, taking her gloved hand in his. He brought it carefully to his chest as he leaned forward to whisper at her ear.
“Fear not, my bride. All will be well.”
A small gasp carried through her veil and she straightened as he stepped back.
Rolan smiled behind his veil, noticing how her shoulders eased, how her crowned head lifted, and a sense of peace like he’d never known came over him.
Already, he was able to comfort her. Confidence filled him to the brim.
This was going to be greater than anything he imagined. He knew it. Happiness was standing just before him, and for the first time, he was going to reach out and take it.
***
Abauna stared up at her groom. He was tall and broad, thick muscles evident through his wedding clothes. He was at least shoulders above her, and he stood with so much confidence, she knew he must be one of the fiercest Vegoths.
But his voice…
It was rough and soft at the same time, and still nothing like she’d expected. It was kind. For now, it was kind.
What would he think when her veil was lifted and he saw he’d been given a female of Trice? Maybe he wouldn’t mind so much since she was beautiful. Maybe he wouldn’t see her outward appearance as a mistake of nature like others did.
Many times, she’d wished her differences away. But now, perhaps they would be a blessing instead of a curse.
A priestess approached, mumbling prayers no one would understand. Above, in the rafters, the Ancients watched the proceedings with their steely eyes trained downward, while the Empress presided from her throne above the dias.
Abauna took note, no family had gathered for either her or her groom.
What could that mean?
Was he despised as much as she was? It would make sense. The bathing attendants had called him cursed.
But his kindness as he’d greeted her… she couldn’t ignore it. Perhaps her male was simply misunderstood, like she was.
She decided she’d give him the benefit of a doubt. Everyone deserved a chance to be understood. It was something she’d become passionate about, and now it would carry over to her mysterious groom.
“This day we have gathered to bind these two by marriage,” the priestess called loud. “All who agree, say aye.”
“Aye,” came the collective hum of the Ancients.
“Aye,” Abauna said, finding her groom’s eyes through the shield of their veils. She couldn’t fully make out their color, but she could tell he was watching her too, and more of her fear bled away.
It was going to be all right. She didn’t know how, but she could feel it in her bones.
What the Empress meant for evil, fate would make good.
“Aye,” he rumbled, a sure nod punctuating his agreement.
“Very well, then.” The priestess folded her hands in front of her glimmering robe. “Let us begin. Join hands.”
Abauna tried to stifle her excitement when her groom’s hand darted out to capture hers. As if he was eager to touch her again. The brief moment earlier, when he’d pressed her palm to his chest, was so unexpected that she hadn’t had a chance to treasure it. Now, he gripped her firmly, his thumb falling into the divot of her palm as if it was meant to go there. They were like puzzle pieces.
She wanted to remember this moment.
Just in case…
Just in case he was disappointed when the veil was lifted. No matter what happened, she would have this one moment of unbridled acceptance from her male.
“We will now speak the vows before the Ancients. Vows that cannot be broken unless by death,” the priestess continued. “Are you both prepared to carry that burden?”
Abauna’s groom seemed to hesitate and her heart raced in her chest as he turned to the priestess. Was this it? Would he reject her before the vows were even started?
“It’s no burden,” he said softly. “It is a gift.”
Oh.
Oh, that was the loveliest thing she’d ever heard from a Vegoth. Her male was not only kind, he was sweet. He was… romantic. Something she’d never expected.
Abauna’s throat ached with happy tears that she positively couldn’t shed. Not now. She wanted to get this right. She wanted to show him that his trust in her wasn’t misplaced. She would never be a burden, only a gift.
“I’ll take that as a yes then,” the priestess said before turning to Abauna. “And you, female?”
“I-I’m ready.” Even though her voice shook, she hoped her groom could hear happiness in it.
“Very well. Then repeat after me. I promise to abide by my spousal duties, to execute them to the greatest of my ability, and to do so with all the fervor of a true Barbarian.”
Her groom spoke his promise so clearly and with so much pride that she hardly noticed how very rigid and utilitarian the words were. It hardly mattered when the serious timbre of his voice made her feel warm all over.
And then it was her turn.
“I promise to abide by my spousal duties, to execute them to the greatest of my ability, and to do so with all the fervor of a true Barbarian.” Could he tell she was smiling beneath her veil?
“I promise to be your moon in darkness.” The priestess nodded at Abauna. Oh, yes. This was her part.
“I promise to be your moon in darkness.”
Then the priestess spoke the groom specific words. “I promise to be your sword and safety.”
When he boomed the promise as if he wanted the entire tribe to hear him, Abauna felt a shiver roll up her spine.
“From this day forward, under the eyes of the Ancients, until death parts us.”
Together, they recited the final vow, their voices winding together making the union seem positively solid. “From this day forward, under the eyes of the Ancients, until death parts us.”
There was a beat of silence as the priestess glanced to the rafters for a confirmation.
“You may now reveal yourselves,” she announced, and Abauna was so giddy she could hardly make her hands move to lift the heavy chainmail that hid her groom.
This was it.
What would he think of her?
Please don’t let him be disappointed.
Feeling braver than she had in a very long time, she took a deep breath…
And lifted the veil.