Chapter Eleven #2
I smile and nod my appreciation, and the meal arrives with great fanfare.
The amount of food for just five people feels criminal somehow, every kind of meat and vegetable imaginable, paired with rich sauces and creamy butters.
I sample everything, but had I not, Chiron fully enjoys the rich meal enough for all of us.
One would think he starved these last days on our simple rations.
This quietly amuses me, but not so quietly that he doesn’t take notice.
Chiron’s foot lightly kicks my own under the table, and I am both amused and aghast. Sometimes his amusements are so childlike, I cannot help but return them.
So I take great pride in myself when I pinch his thigh, and he smothers a yelp into his napkin.
Wren looks at us curiously, but no one else comments.
When the Lord Nephrys next speaks, he raises his glass towards us and says, “To our newlywed triad, may your marriage be fruitful and full of love.”
Chiron and Menira lift their glasses as well, so Wren and I follow suit.
The wine we were served is far too rich for my taste, so I imbibe carefully.
It does not stop me from choking when Menira says, “How have you found wedded life, Prince Chiron, Wren, Vonetta? The Lord and I, we were a love match, and so we always hope for the same passion for a new coupling.”
Her words are meant in real kindness, but the shock of them ripples through us all. Wren’s eyes go wide, and Chiron clears his throat, but no words form. I catch my breath and try to think of a response, but I feel the heat in my cheeks the longer the silence persists.
Love match. Wedded life. Gods alive…
“I would say that we have spent the bulk of our days together traveling and preparing for our trials. We have formed a friendship, and I think it will serve us very well as we continue our journey through the Kingdom.” The lady’s smile back is polite, if not a bit regretful.
Of course, we were not a love match; what a silly hope to have put on us.
Surely she knows that we never met before the Rite?
It dawns on me now that perhaps everyone assumes we’re experiencing some type of marital bliss?
Are we supposed to be experiencing that?
The pressure of this entire day is heavy.
We finish our dinner more quietly than it even began. Chiron and Wren speak quietly with Nephrys, and I try not to appear as discomposed as I feel. I thank Menira for sharing this meal with us, and she nods her welcome to me.
“Vonetta…lady. I hope that you will take tea with me before you leave Nerine. It would be a great honor for me.”
I consider this and nod my own ascent, much to her delight.
…
I nearly collapse on the great bed when we are finally relieved of our duties for the night.
Wren retreats to the chair with his book, something that has become a silent routine that I’ve come to appreciate these last few nights.
Chiron doesn’t immediately join me, though.
He walks to the door of our room and opens it, speaking in a low voice to the guards there, and I cannot hear him.
When he returns, he is holding two small packages.
First, he hands one of them to Wren. Then he comes and sits next to me on the large bed, handing me the other.
“Netta, you handled that intrusive remark from the Lord and his wife like you’ve been at court your entire life. I was so impressed. Obviously, I picked these out before that, but I thought of each of you today when we were out. Just a little something.”
I unwrap the gift, and inside I find a pair of leather gloves.
The material is thin but sturdy, lined inside with a soft material I cannot name.
The right glove is the most interesting, because the three middle fingers have a slice where they meet the palm, and a small loop with a button at the top on the opposite side.
As I inspect them, I hear Chiron’s soft voice next to me.
“They can be folded back for using your bow. I had to guess if you favored your right hand for that. Was I right?” I look at his face, and he looks a little abashed but genuinely hopeful that his gift is appreciated.
It is. Very much so. I’ve never owned anything so perfectly picked for me. I draw in a deep, steadying breath and reach for Chiron’s hand. I squeeze it when I say, “There are no finer gloves in the Kingdom. Thank you, Chiron.”
His smile is wide and relieved, and it makes me smile too.
I look to Wren, who is inspecting his gift from Chiron.
It’s a pen. I walk to him to see it more clearly.
It’s absolutely stunning with gold accents swirling up from the tip.
Wren marvels at the fine craftsmanship, thanking Chiron quietly and testing it in his book.
I place the gloves on my cloak, running my fingers over both now. The gloves are slate colored, not quite black. The stitching is a light grey. They look beautiful contrasted with the muted purple.
When I turn back to Chiron, he is watching me.
I am still not used to this. I enjoy that his eyes find me often.
I give him a smile and head into the washroom to prepare for bed.
I release my hair from its plait, and I don a white shift that was left for me.
I stay in here longer than necessary, letting the day’s events flow over me in pieces as I comb through my hair.
It is difficult for me to truly understand what I feel right now; everything is constantly new and changing in front of me.
But not Wren, not Chiron. They are unveiling who they are to me. I think I am to them as well?
When I emerge, Chiron is donning his own nightclothes, and the broad expanse of his back is briefly visible to me. I at once feel like I should look away and like I absolutely cannot look away.
I avert my gaze, and I see that Wren is also very much unable to not appreciate Chiron. There is so much there in his gaze. Sometimes I think Wren is the most complex of us all. I settle into the great bed, and before long, I am joined by them both. Nothing needs saying.
We all experienced the same day and know that we each need to decompress from its events.
Someone built a fire in here while we were gone, so the room is warm and dimly lit by its flames. I fall asleep to the crackle of the fire and the heavy breaths of the men on either side of me.