She bowed her head gravely, showing off a full head of white hair that nearly glowed orange in the sun’s setting rays.
“The ties that are bound here will greatly strengthen your union and entwine your souls’ growth over the years you have together. Take each other’s hands and look into your beloved’s eyes.”
The priestesses pulled crimson ribbons from their belt purses. I could already hear Emilia starting to sob from where she sat and knew that tears were not far behind for me as the handfasting ceremony began.
“Lord Ambrose, do you promise to share in Oriol’s pain and seek to alleviate it to the best of your abilities?” The head priestess asked.
“I do.”
“Mx. Oriol, do you promise to share in Ambrose’s pain and seek to alleviate it to the best of your abilities?”
“I do.”
“And so the first binding is made.”
The other two priestesses bound their hands with the first ribbon, interlacing it between their wrists and tying it in a simple but strong knot. They stepped back and nodded, and the head priestess continued.
“Ambrose, will you share in Oriol’s laughter and promise to always look for the brightness and the positive in them?”
“I will.”
“Oriol, will you share in Ambrose’s laughter and promise to always look for the brightness and the positive in him?”
“I will.”
“And so the second binding is made.”
The priestesses repeated the binding process, making sure to intertwine the second ribbon with the first, and then the head priestess continued.
“Ambrose, are you willing to always share in Oriol’s dreams and burdens so that both of you may grow equally in this union?”
“I am.”
“Oriol, are you willing to always share in Ambrose’s dreams and burdens so that both of you may grow equally in this union?”
“I am.”
“And so the third binding is made.”
A third ribbon was twined with the former two, and I knew that most of the audience was in tears. Both Ambrose and Oriol’s voices got stronger with each binding. I wasn’t sure if the reason was magic or because they were in love with each other, but it was beautiful.
“Ambrose, do you promise to use the heat of your anger and use it to strengthen this union?”
“I do.”
“Oriol, do you promise to use the heat of your anger and use it to strengthen this union?”
“I do.”
“And so the fourth binding is made.”
Tears were streaming down my face unabashedly by the time the priestess spoke again for the last binding. I could barely see any more than the colors of their outfits and the ribbons that covered their hands.
My final question is the most important one,” the priestess said gravely. “Do you promise to honor each other as equals in this union?”
“We do,” they said in perfect unison. The final ribbon was tied by the head priestess herself while the other priestesses chanted a prayer. Once the final knot was tied, she looked back at the tear-streaked faces of the newlyweds.
“Your love should always be a constant source of light like the stars above us and a firm foundation from which you can grow into your fullest selves. May the goddess bless these hands that they may always hold each other and be healer, protector, shelter and guide for each of you. On behalf of the goddess and all those present, I pronounce you married. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”
Ambrose and Oriol didn’t need to be told twice. As the sun dipped fully below the horizon, they kissed each other with reckless abandon in front of everyone they held dear. We all rose from our seats with a roar of applause and inimitable joy.
I wouldn’t have been anywhere else in the world for any amount of money in the world than right here.
A Knight To Remember Excerpt
MASTER CORMAC LAMBERT, BLACKSMITH
You could say that I had been having a fairly normal day. A knight had commissioned a new coif, my apprentice was whining about making nails, and I intended to spend the afternoon flirting with my friend the tailor whenever said apprentice was distracted by his character building assignment.
Normal, that is, until a muscular woman who looked resplendent in a deep Violet riding gown walked into the smithy and plunked down a cloth purse that was so heavy that it barely jingled when it hit the top of the granite countertop that separated the storefront from the rest of the workshop. I looked up from the account books I was working on and she spoke as soon as she had my attention.
“I have a challenge for you, smith.”
Her voice was bright and steady, much like the smile that played across her Golden Brown face. She had a lilting accent that reminded me of home. I closed the book I was working on and placed my pen back into its holder, turning on my best salesman grin. It was clear from this woman’s clothing that she had money.
“Cormac Lambert at your service. How can I help you, my lady? A new suit of mail for your betrothed? A new sword for your father or brother?”
The forge behind him had gone suspiciously quiet. He glanced back and saw that his apprentice was staring slack jawed at the noble visitor, who stood with her back ramrod straight before him.
“Or perhaps you would like to hire my useless apprentice?” I growled. The impudent boy grinned at me before going back to his work.
“As tempting as that sounds, I have a proposition that I think you will find much more interesting,” she informed me. Her glinting hazel eyes never left my face. I raised an eyebrow at her and gestured to the stool that I knew stood in front of her on the other side of the counter.
“Interesting, eh? Let’s talk then.”
SER GENEVIEVE OF TEAGAN, KNIGHT
As I took my seat at the counter, the smith asked his apprentice to finish up his batch of nails and then bring out refreshments. We both watched quietly as he hammered each strip on all four sides to create a point, then sliced off the nail to make sure each was the right length with a practiced hand. He hung his apron on the wall once he was finished and bowed to us both before scurrying out of the room. He looked to be a few years younger than I was, maybe 15 or 16. Soot marked the tanned skin where he’d likely wiped sweat from his eyes with the back of his hands, and his eyes were the deep brown of healthy forest loam. With his easy smile and skills, she knew he would be a handsome man in a few year’s time.
“He doesn’t seem so useless to me,” I told Cormac. “At least when it comes to nails.”
He laughed so loudly and deeply that it was almost as if someone had struck a gong in the smithy.
“Oh, he isn’t. He’s one of the better apprentices I’ve had, and he knows it. I’ve learned that you can’t tell them that all the time, though. It goes to their heads and soon enough they’re so full of hot air they can’t come into the smithy because their mouths act as a bellows whenever they open them.”
That startled a laugh out of me, just in time for the boy to come back in with a carefully balanced tray that held two cups, a bottle of fruit juice and a pitcher of water. She could feel Cormac’s eyes on her as she thanked him for the refreshments, and guessed that he was trying to figure out who she was. She decided to give him a hint.
“What’s your name, son?”
The boy bowed before smiling back up at her and answering.
“Finn, my lady.”
“Don’t let your old master here get you down, Finn,” she said with a wink. “You made those nails more skillfully than many of the knights in the palace ever managed. You’re probably even better at it than I am, even though I trained under Cormac here when I was just a wee thing.”
Finn blushed and started to answer but was interrupted when the smith jumped from his stool in surprise. I grinned at him, clapping my hands together lightly in delight. He walked around the counter to greet me properly with the bow and a handshake. His palms were rough even against my own callused one.
“Lady Genevieve of Teagan,
as I live and breathe! I’ve been trying to figure out who you were since you walked in! ”
“In the flesh! Though you should know it’s actually Ser Genevieve now.”
“You were officially knighted! Congratulations, ser! I was so used to seeing you in those grubby trousers you used to run in and out of my Teagan smithy in that I didn’t recognize you as all of this.” He gestured to the outfit I wore, which was admittedly significantly nicer than what Mother had allowed me to run around in before she’d become a page.
“Yes, I was knighted last fall. It’s good to see you too, Cormac. I won’t even be offended that you didn’t recognize me at first, though I am technically still wearing trousers. ”
He looked at where she sat on the stool, confused. I spread my legs ever so slightly to show off the fact that there was a split in the skirt that made it into a pair of pants. It was one of her favorite modifications to make to her fashionable clothes.
“I should have known. You never would ride in a dress if you could help it. I’m glad to see you haven’t changed much.”
I winked at him before pouring myself a glass of fruit juice.
“Would you like some?”
He shook his head, pouring water into the other cup on the tray and returning to his own stool.
“Now that you’ve remembered who I am, shall we get down to business?”
“Absolutely, but first, let me take care of something.”
He spun on his stool to face his apprentice who had been tidying the workshop while we talked.
“Finn, it’s about time for you to take a lunch break. Come back when the bell strikes three and we can finish tidying up together.”
The boy bowed to his master, grabbed a satchel from behind the counter and scampered off. As soon as the door swung shut behind him, she
“Now, how busy are you? I have a challenge that could make your business famous around the world.”
He cocked a greying eyebrow at me and I grinned.
“Famous, eh? What have you got for me, Ser? I can hear you out at the very least, and maybe point you in another direction if it’s not something I can handle.”
I folded my hands in my lap, running the thumb of one hand over the knuckles of the other. I took a deep breath, trying to contain my excitement and nervousness about what I was about to ask him to do.
“I need a dress for the king’s ball in November, and I want you to make it.”
Nearly a minute passed where they both just stared at each other. Cormac’s jaw was nearly on the floor. I knew it was probably the strangest request he had ever received.
“Ser, you realize this is a blacksmith’s forge, and not a tailor’s shop, right? I do not have the skills to make a dress. I make chainmail and ornamental ironwork, not a dressmaker.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I think that, with some adjustments, you could make a stunning chainmail dress, with some ornamental pieces.”
The blacksmith studied my face, his curiosity plain in the focus of his gaze and tilt of his head.
“Okay, I’ll bite. Give me some more information.”
I had to stop myself from squealing with glee. A smile spread across my face as I dove into the satchel I had brought with me, digging through it until I found the small, bound notebook I was searching for.
“I’ve got a basic sketch here. The rules are that you have to be able to fight, so it can’t be too tight, but it also can’t be too frilly. I know that plate mail won’t allow me to dance, but if you know of a tailor that might work with us, I’m sure that they could help with the logistics of how it could work with mail.”
I knew I was babbling, but I needed to get it all out before he made up his mind. Without saying anything, he gestured for the book and I handed it to him.
“I know it isn’t done in quite the latest style, but it’s flattering to my thick muscles in a way that I love, and allows me freedom of movement that I’ll need as part of the honor guard.”
He studied it for several moments, tapping a callused finger on the paper in thought before clearing his throat.
“I have a tailor friend not far from here. How about we take a wander over there and let them have a look and see if it’s possible?”
This time I didn’t even try to hold back the squeal of joy. Jumping up from the stool, I nearly toppling over when one leg of my pants got caught on my other foot. Catching myself on the countertop, I flushed hotly in embarrassment.
“Now, see, if you’d done that when you walked into my shop, I would’ve done exactly who you were,” Cormac laughed. I couldn’t help but laugh with him. He was right.
He held out a hand to steady me as I got my wardrobe malfunction in order, then handed my sketchbook back to me.
“Come along, lass. It’s a short walk from here. Let me close up and leave a note for Finn in case he comes back early, and we can walk over.”
Also by Ceillie Simkiss
Learning Curves Series:
Learning Curves (#1)
The Ghosts of Halloween (#1.5)
Wrapped Up In You (#2)
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About the Author
Ceillie Simkiss is a queer and neurodivergent author and freelance writer based in southern Virginia. She has bylines in the Danville Register & Bee, VIDA Magazine, Culturess and Global Comment. She blogs regularly on CandidCeillie.com and is the owner and editor of LetsFoxAboutIt.com.
She loves nothing more than curling up in bed with a book and her many furry creatures, but playing silly video games is a close second, even though she’s terrible at them.
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