CHAPTER THIRTY #5
“Don’t worry,” Geoffrey purred, leaning closer. “I’ll be there, front and center—watching. Like the proud father you never had. And when you’re done being fucked for our entertainment, don’t forget our little arrangement. I haven’t been paid in days, and I can only be so patient and understanding.”
I was on the verge of using my magic, of shifting my fist and punching the shit out of him.
Before I could do anything too brash, I was surrounded by dozens of wedding guests, drunk and gleeful.
They threw back their drinks, downing them all in nearly one gulp.
Some signal must have been sent. Because right after that, they all began running to the back of the lodge, leaving me alone with Brennan.
My heart raced. “What is this?” I asked.
“They went out to the cabin, to our bedroom. For the bedding ceremony.”
“By the Gods.” They were racing to get the best seats, to make sure they had a clear view of us. I could feel my chest tightening, dread twisting in my stomach.
Brennan took my hand. “Are you all right?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Me neither. But I think the sooner we get this over with, the better.”
“I know.” I stared down.
He turned to me, lifting my chin in his hands, his eyes blazing. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”
“I know what you meant,” I said, losing myself in the green of his eyes.
“You know I will keep you safe and protected the whole time we’re in there—as best as I can. I swear.”
“I know you will. I only wish I could promise the same.”
“And I will gladly give up a year of my life if I must, to protect my people.” He pulled me closer, and kissed my forehead. “To protect you. It’s worth it.”
But this wasn’t protecting me. This was going to hurt me. And there was nothing either of us could do to stop it.
Brennan stepped forward, leading me from the room, his fingers entwined around mine.
It was like our first night at the tavern all over again. The dread in my belly. The feeling of lead in my shoes, weighing me down. The knowledge of what was to happen. Only this time, it would. Nothing was going to stop us. Everything was in place to ensure our success.
I couldn’t even look at Brennan as we walked the length of the emptied dining hall. My heart thundered, beating through my chest like a drum as we passed the other side of the lodge and made our way outside to the grass.
We crossed a small clearing to the lodge’s second building, the cabin that had been set aside for us.
The sun was setting already, the sky a warm mix of red and orange, the sky clear after the storm.
Brennan opened the door, leading me into the cabin’s entryway where the musicians played, and a few wedding guests still lingered, drinking fresh cups of wine.
The simple cabin walls were covered in tapestries embroidered with moonstags.
We walked beyond them into a sitting room, with a small adjacent library.
And at the end of the hall, where everyone had gathered, was the bedroom.
It was large as far as bedrooms at the hunting lodge went. There was also a separate bathing room, a large wardrobe, a writing desk, a couch, and a set of cozy chairs on either side of the fireplace.
A large carpet lay where we entered, though I could barely make out the color or design. Nearly every inch of it was covered by our wedding guests’ shoes. They had crowded themselves onto it, all facing the center of the room. Facing the one piece of furniture I’d been dreading looking at.
The bed. Sized for a king, the canopy had four panels of white curtains, all drawn to their corners. Curtains that would be closed after we climbed into the sheets, offering us some privacy and dignity as we publicly completed our first act of intimacy with each other.
But there was one glaring problem with that.
“Why are the curtains sheer?” I hissed to Brennan. They were white, but they looked like they'd been made out of the same material as my veil.
“They have to be,” he said, his voice low. “There can be no question of the legitimacy of our union.”
“Why even bother with them then?”
“I did what I could,” he said. “After what happened last night, they were pushing for no curtains at all. I argued for hours. This was the compromise.”
Fuck.
“I told you, I won’t let them see you,” he said. “I’ll keep you as covered as I can. And I’ll do all I can to keep you comfortable.”
“You don’t have to. It’s not even my body,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “It’s someone’s. And underneath it, there’s you, and what we’re going to do is still intimate, and still worth protecting.”
“And what about you?” I asked.
But before Brennan could answer, a trumpet blared, and everyone fell to their knees. King Tirian entered the room, the high priest beside him, his black robes swishing at his feet.
“Rise,” the king said, and lifted a glass of wine to Brennan and me.
“I welcome you all, my dear friends, to the bedding ceremony. To the union of Eskalon’s Crown Prince Jaron Emmerson Rowan Brendathan, and his wife, Princess Olivay, of House Lafir.
May their union be as fruitful as it is honest, by our witnessing of the event.
I know our happy couple has been as excited for this moment as we all are. So, let’s begin, shall we?”