Chapter 9
Vastion
The next day brought with it the usual flurry of plans and arrangements for the wedding.
A tradition largely kept for the humans’ sake.
But this was the first time a wedding had been held after an attack by the Forlorn.
I could not surmise if their numbers were somehow increasing, or if more were just braving farther from the nests.
Any semblance of self-preservation seemed to have been eradicated from their instincts.
All that remained was the desire to hunt, fueled by insatiable hunger.
My sentries had not escaped the skirmish unscathed, but those that were able to return had since healed themselves with honorable feedings provided by our supply from Vassals.
My own wounds required the same, but I drank in private, keeping my word that I would not indulge in front of the humans or my bride-to-be.
Though, that would all change once Esiree returned home with me.
The other Tributes witnessed my proposal amongst the chaos but, as was tradition, they’d be expected to stay through the ceremony in case anything was to go awry.
Except, I’d be damned if I let anything happen to Esiree.
I still didn’t fully understand my own sentiments toward her.
Why this impulsiveness? Why did I feel such fierce protectiveness over her?
Facing the Forlorn alone was risky, even for me.
I could sense that this magnetism vexed her, which only fed my desire to prove its unmistakable presence.
Had I really grown so bored that I had become reckless with my own throne?
Esiree was likely somewhere being fitted for the gown we’d brought with us.
This was my sister’s favorite part of the Harvest. I had to put her in charge of something, that or she’d continue to invade my privacy in the days leading up to the excursion each Season.
And since the territories would never be able to produce such decadence as the Vampyr, it was an acceptable gift to each future bride.
Like all bridal dresses, especially ones of such ornate detail, they had no use beyond that day.
It was such a pity; I hated seeing anything go to waste.
Long ago, I decreed these dresses be donated to the bride’s family after the ceremony.
The jewels and fabric were worth a small fortune, which helped secure the stature of my bride’s family.
Some, I’d heard, preserved them as keepsakes and handed them down through the generations.
The fatuousness of mortals seemed boundless.
Orin and Mina arrived near simultaneously at the entrance of my tent. “We should discuss preparations for nightfall,” he said, looking grim. An expression that had not left his face since my return from the encounter last night.
My sister shoved past him, looking annoyed.
“No, we should discuss that hag of a bride you’ve selected!” she said, exasperated, throwing herself dramatically onto my bed. No matter her years, Mina would forever be a petulant youth in my eyes.
I waved my hand to Orin who still stood at the entryway waiting for me to choose business over entertaining my sister’s episode.
“I’ll come find you shortly, Commander.”
Orin released the flap of my tent and walked away without so much as a huff, more than accustomed to my sister’s dramatics.
I turned to face her. “I do not appreciate you speaking ill of Esiree.”
Mina sat up abruptly, rearing like she was ready for a full-on argument.
“That is the least damaging description I could conjure, Vastion.” She gestured wildly as she talked, something I had always found amusing.
“First, she tried to decline the dress entirely, claiming she’d wear something she brought. ”
I nodded, letting her speak, which is all she really wanted. It was best not to interrupt my sister, especially not when she was seemingly on the warpath.
She continued, “When I tried to pretend like I might indulge her and asked to view the gown, I was appalled to discover it wasn’t even white!” she screeched when it looked like my attention was dwindling. “She had the audacity to suggest wearing a red dress to her own wedding.”
Mina’s face contorted into disapproval, and I let out a small chuckle. Part of me thought this was likely just Esiree trying to cause another stir. Something told me that, while my bride liked to ruffle feathers, she would ultimately follow tradition.
“How did you two resolve things?” I asked, knowing that my sister always prevailed. One way or another…
She smirked at me and said, “I’ve paid off all of her attendants to ensure all other gowns are scorched or otherwise inaccessible for tomorrow’s events.”
“Mina…” I said slowly, narrowing my gaze. “Ensure they are neatly packed in trunks for our departure. If I discover any of them were so much as singed or went missing, we will have more than words, you and I.”
She gritted her teeth, looking furious, but she knew I would not allow her to offend my future wife, and her future sister, with such foolishness.
“Find a way to reason with her and see to it that she receives a proper fitting from our tailors. Let her see choice in other matters that you care less about,” I proposed, hoping that she’d take my words as command and not suggestion; it was never a given where she was concerned, regardless of my being king.
Mina looked unconvinced with my proposal. She had spent far less time with humans than I. She no longer remembered or cared to understand what made mortals tick.
“Present her options for the diadem. Give her choices in flavor of cake and pastry. Ask her which song she’d like played for our first dance,” I prodded, knowing that this would give my feisty betrothed some sense of control. With absolute certainty, I knew that was what Esiree craved. Control.
I thought her loose-lipped banter and quips were more a defense mechanism than manicured means of flirting, but only time would tell. I’d have to work hard to lower those defenses. But I was, perhaps, the most patient of kings and husbands-to-be, because I had all the time in the world.
Mina accepted her assignment and, as she strode away, I followed closely behind to reconnect with Orin and discuss fortifying our Watch for the evening.
If I couldn’t keep my subjects convinced that our protection was worth their Vassals, then I’d have more problems than just staving off the Forlorn.
I could have no more risk of danger, certainly not on the eve of my wedding.
My seventh wedding, to be precise. But something felt truly different about this one.
The eternal absence of sleep brought with it the eternal absence of dreams. How I missed being transported to the far reaches of my mind, indulging in the possibilities of the unconscious world.
I sat in bed all night waiting for the dawn, anticipating being able to see Esiree again.
I’d considered visiting her tent last night, but I figured I should give her some final moments of freedom to spend those waning hours as a citizen of Leto.
A human, and not a human queen. After today, all her days would belong to me and the service of our kingdom, so I chose to be patient and leave her be.
There were many things I disliked about the way the day’s traditions would unfold.
Most notably, not seeing her till she walked down the aisle.
Part of me wanted to offer every selected Tribute one last moment to run.
Run from this obligation they were about to partake in.
If the tables were turned, that’s what I would hope someone would have offered me.
But humans still clung to many of the old ways, which the Vampyr honored—though more out of placation than respect.
When the day officially got underway, I drank double the quantity of my usual morning donation.
It would need to satiate me well into the evening.
A full day surrounded by the scent of humans, plus the delightful scent of her.
While others of my kind would gorge themselves on goblets of blood, I would abstain.
I moved through the familiar motions of this occasion. Perfectly tailored garments with royal adornments representing my lineage. A sword at my hip, nothing more than decoration. There was only one thing left before I’d be ready to proceed.
It was typical that each human bride received a wedding ring with a stone representing their territory.
Sapphires for Muir. Emeralds for Lyr. Rubies for Enud.
But we had never had a Tribute from Leto so, when my artisan approached me to prepare a ring for Esiree, he was at a loss.
The idea came to me with little hesitation.
I instructed him to bring me a specific tiara that had belonged to my mother, now in the possession of Mina.
It was encrusted with a handful of moonstones.
When I was just a boy and we were both human, she used to tell me bedtime stories.
She spoke of a magical and ancient people who once went to war for those precious stones that adorned her head.
Now, the moon represented something very different to me.
A kind of refuge that only night could offer our kind.
This feeling of sanctuary was what I hoped to offer Esiree. If she’d let me.
When the first notes of the bridal processional began to drift through the hall, the guests rose as one—shielding her from my sight. I found myself straining, patience fraying as her father escorted her toward the altar hidden behind the restless, shifting bodies of the court.
The collective gasp of the guests only sharpened my hunger to see her.
When she finally carved her way through the crowd, the rest of the hall collapsed into a gray, inconsequential haze.
My world narrowed until there was nothing left but the silhouette of Esiree, a burning beacon in a room full of strangers.