by Kyra Gregory
Riffin smiled. He understood exactly how she felt. It had been the same for him. Every time he saw a new letter arrive, every time he met his mother, he worried a proposal had been made, one that would be too good for his mother to refuse. “And you?” he asked. “Are you still as determined to see us through this?”
Malia’s cheeks became rosier, pursing her lips together as she nodded, “Yes,” she whispered. “I am.”
Riffin’s smile grew larger, unable to be contained. He reached out, caressing her warm cheek with the back of his fingers, “Tomorrow then?” he asked.
Her smile grew to match his, a short laugh escaping her, “Tomorrow,” she agreed.
As his fingers sank gently into the back of her neck, entangling themselves in her dark red hair, the two of them leaned in, pressing a short, soft chaste to each other’s lips. With his forehead against hers, the two rested there for a moment of calm, fleeting as it would come to be, “Tomorrow,” they agreed. “Whether Ludorum wants it or not.”
Chapter 13
THE WEDDING CELEBRATIONS TOOK them both by surprise somehow. The leading up to it had taken far longer than the ceremony and celebrations themselves. Dressed impeccably, Malia entered the ballroom, walking down a path to the front of the room, lined with nobles at either side of her.
White flowers decorated the sconces and chandeliers, petals peppered along the ground in front of her. She couldn’t help the deep scarlet flush that burned into her cheeks and, thinking it was the best she could do, she cast her gaze to the steps she took, fearful the nerves would cause her to stumble in front of the eagle-eyed crowd.
Even the familiar faces within the crowd—her parents, his parents, Gyles and Lukas, Thane—none of those were enough to provide any sort of comfort when faced with so much scrutiny. Even Riffin—seeing him only caused her heart to flutter that much harder with eagerness. What little she allowed herself to see of him, standing at the end of the long path, had her realising that he was as handsome as ever.
His smile was soft but it grew whenever she met his gaze, if even for a second. His gaze was difficult to decipher while her nerves were getting the best of her; all she knew was that it made her feel good—she felt as though she was doing the right thing.
A short speech was made by the Queen, more of a show of support towards their union than anything else. Riffin and Thane both looked to Ludorum’s leader out of the corner of their eyes. The Queen was more subtle than that. Her intentions were clear in her words and those who were being spoken to knew it even if nobody else did. Ending on a note of well-wishes for the happy couple, the parchments were laid out in front of them for them to sign and, with the stroke of a pen, it was done. What had been united by love had been united on paper—a thing that meant plenty in the world they lived in.
Ewin and Thane put their differences aside for an evening, seeing to it that everything went off without a hitch. There was not a moment when one of them didn’t know what Ludorum’s key nobles were doing. Even so, it looked natural enough. Thane stood close to his friend throughout most of the night, smiling and providing him quiet coaxes of support and jokes to keep him going.
Riffin consulted, in silence, with those around him for every move he made. For every noble who approached him to offer their congratulations, Riffin would glance at his mother over their shoulders and the look in her eyes would declare the man, or woman, friend or foe.
It was tense, but no event with so many people in attendance wasn’t. For as long as he remembered, he was rarely allowed to join his mother for such festivities and, when he did, he was heavily guarded. Time could change plenty but it wouldn’t change that.
When the festivities died down and they were made to take their leave, the silence of the corridors was caused a nervous energy to build up inside of him. Malia was the first to leave, escorted away. Before long, nerves growing in the pit of his stomach, causing him to struggle with conversation from then on, Thane came for him next, offering the best smile he could manage before leading him down the corridors.
He made his way towards his chambers with an unease he’d never had before, slipping out of his coat and handing it to Thane as the burning inside of him grew more intense. The panging of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach was all too familiar, however. He swallowed the lump forming in the back of his throat. Pursing his lips together, the guards opened the door for him and he stepped into the room.
He had never seen his chambers in such a way before. What he knew of them had been transformed by the golden glow of the forty or fifty candles that were placed around the room. His heart raced in his chest, rattling against his rib cage in the silence.
Malia donned a simple white dress, stood awkwardly, playing with her fingers, beside the newly acquired dressing table.
With her hair down, soft waves cascading over her shoulders, he felt his words, what few could come to mind, caught in the back of his drying throat.
“How did you find it tonight?” he asked, softly, a hint of a stammer in his voice.
She shifted her weight, the unease clear on her features. “A little tiring,” she started softly, “but I thought it went well.”
Riffin cleared his throat, hoping that words he feared to say would escape him. “Same,” he said. The corners of his lips twitched in his effort to smile, only for it to be short-lived when the nerves took over, “Considering Ludorum’s disapproval, it could’ve gone worse,” he said.
Malia laughed, nodding, “Everyone is alive, that we know of,” she said.
He tilted his head from side-to-side, his smiling growing wider, “A little drunk, but alive,” he agreed.
A smile was quick on her lips again, “Would you like something to drink?” she asked, looking to the bar. Her hand reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and she took two quick steps towards the bar.
“I’m…not thirsty,” he said. Malia came to an abrupt stop, turning away from the bar. “Are you scared?” he asked.
She lowered her gaze and wrung out her hands, entwining her fingers together—it was all the answer he needed.
He took two steps towards her and watched her shoulders tense. As much as everything about her told him to keep his distance, he knew that they would get nowhere if they maintained it.
As he got close enough, he narrowed the distance between them further by extending his hand to her. She looked at it from beneath her lashes and he watched as she forged enough courage to take it and step closer. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and she leaned into the warmth of his chest.
He brought her fingers up to his lips, kissing the back of them, all the while watching her ease further into his embrace.
He took a seat on the couch, leading her to sit beside him. Her fingers entangled themselves in her nightgown and the small smile on her lip seemed to falter. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head, “I’ve never done this before,” she said.
Riffin chuckled softly, “Neither have I,” he said. “You know that.”
“But you’ve seen things,” she said, looking to meet his gaze. “In the brothel, the other night,” she said. “You surely saw things.”
Riffin pulled back and his thumb, having been brushing the back of her hand, stopped its gentle motion. “Are you angry about that?”
“I’m worried,” she said, “about what you saw…that I might be compared to.”
Riffin scoffed before breaking into a chuckle, “I didn’t see much,” he said, “and I wouldn’t even consider comparing you with anything.”
A smile, more relieved this time, flashed on her lips. He leaned into her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Within the relief and happiness in her eyes, the nerves were still there. He thought, without a doubt, they were a mirror of his own feelings.
“Did your mother speak to you about this?” he asked.
She pursed her lips together and nodded before a laugh, a hopeless one, escaped her
, “Yes,” she replied, “but nothing you wish to hear.”
She went to stand, as though to end the conversation there, her eyes settled on the bed in the distance. He took her hand between his fingers, holding it tight. “Tell me,” he said. As his eyes flickered to where she once sat, she settled back down. She hesitated at first. She’d answered his question but had given no thought to how she would put her mother’s words into her own.
“She said that... She said that I shouldn’t be forced to do anything,” she whispered. There was a momentary flicker of her gaze, eager to know his thoughts, all the while fearing them. Afraid she would lose nerve and speak no more, she avoided his gaze altogether. “That what I want, or don’t want, matters just as much. She said that I could refuse, and should refuse, should I not feel I’m able to...”
Riffin’s lips twitched into a smile and he sat back, “I agree,” he said.
She looked up at him, her eyes a little wide. She broke out into a soft laugh and lowered her gaze again, “I don’t know why that surprises me,” she said.
Riffin opened his mouth to speak, with every intention of reiterating her mother’s words, to allow his wife to hear them from his own mouth and know they were the truth. But Malia looked up at him again, her eyes filled with a little more courage, albeit still with a rosiness in her cheeks. “And you?” she asked, softly. “Has your father spoken to you about this?”
Riffin smirked, feeling the same familiar flush appearing in his own face as he recalled the conversation. “He said much the same,” he declared, leaning back with a sigh. “He said that he hadn’t known he was my mother’s first. He said that passion outdid sense and that he regretted the lack of care he may’ve taken with her. Although my mother showed no discontent over the fact, it didn’t stop the guilt. He asked that, regardless of appearances, I would show more care than he did.”
When he looked up, he found Malia resting her head in her hand, watching him with a warmth in her eyes. Riffin extended his hand to her, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers, “You’re tired,” he declared, quietly. “Let’s go to bed.”
Malia inched into his touch, slowly at first. She moved to stand but she didn’t leave the couch. Instead, she moved closer, leaning into him. With a hand on his shoulder, she manoeuvred herself on top of him. Riffin craned his neck, marvelling at her beauty as she leaned over him. His heart accelerated in his chest, their breaths mingled with one another’s and a warmth descended over them as they lay in each other’s embrace. His hands fell to the small of her back, caressing the soft fabric of her nightgown before his fingers found themselves entangled within it.
Her lips, soft as the petals that rained down on them at their wedding, touched his. They quivered, ever so slightly, her breaths betraying her, exposing her fear that contradicted the strength and courage that she pursued with her hands. Her fingers sank into the back of his neck, tugging gently at the dark strands of hair.
Riffin slid his hands beneath her thighs and adjusted her around him as he moved to stand. Their move to the bed was far from seamless. Jostled and held tightly to him, Malia gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck.
The mattress beneath her back was a delight and she ran her fingers through her hair as she revelled in the brief sensation of rest. Riffin pulled back, admiring her in the time it took for him to step out of his boots and pull his shirt off over his head.
The sight of her, comfortable as she stretched out on the bed, caused him to smile. “We can do this some other time,” he said, leaning over her.
She pursed her lips together and he chuckled at the thought of the temptation being that great. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted herself to meet his lips. “If not tonight, then when?” she asked.
Riffin captured her lips once more. Her fingers explored the bare flesh that had been exposed to her and his hand reached to do the same, sliding up the side of her dress, taking in the subtle contours of her body.
There were no more questions. They spoke no more. They had done enough. Soon, the clothing had all been peeled away and their bodies laid against one another. The revelling in the sights and the sounds, the fluttering nerves, the subtle discomfort, the warmth and the pleasure—it was euphoric.
***
“Leaving so soon, cousin?” Deros asked, making his way out the main door.
Thane remained close—enough to be of use to the man but not to appear as though he were a part of their conversation. He wasn’t there to confront the King of Ludorum, as much as he would have liked to, but to give an extra measure of support to the Queen’s husband. He couldn’t be sure if he was there doing her bidding—something about the look in the Deros’ eyes told him that this was more personal than duty.
King Niles paused, stepping back down from his carriage before turning around.
Thane stopped to stand beside the Queen’s husband, watching for his every move with a growing apprehension.
“The happy couple has retired for their chambers, haven’t they?” King Niles asked. “What reason would I have for staying beyond that?”
Deros took a step closer and Prince Pietros stiffened at his brother’s side, his fingers twitching for the blade at his hip. Try as they might to convey themselves as allies, to family that was separated by politics and a few boarders, it was the furthest thing from the truth. “Tell me, shall I hope for more support on your part or shall I expect more treachery?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” King Niles said.
Thane resisted scoffing. The look of arrogance in his eyes was plentiful. He wasn’t troubled by the accusations made against him. Not in the slightest.
Deros took a moment, staring into his eyes. They rivalled each other for domination, the strength and superiority. The man was a King, but he was not above his bastard cousin. Not in grace and not in power.
“Have a safe journey back, cousin,” Deros said.
King Niles smirked, no doubt deeming himself triumphant in a war of silence. “Take care, Deros,” he said.
King Niles and Prince Pietros boarded their carriage and Deros stood, resolute, as it was drawn away and out of the Capital gates.
“Do you think he’ll try anything again?” Thane willed himself to ask.
Deros took a step back, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he thought, “Perhaps,” he said. “He will resist—if he’s smart.”
He skipped up the steps with a burst of energy and Thane followed suit. “What makes you say that?”
“We made him King,” he said, matter-of-factly, “and the crown can be taken away as swiftly as it may be given.”
Thane recoiled. King Niles had been the King of Ludorum for longer than he’d been alive. He hadn’t yet been conceived, let alone born, when the war in Ludorum had taken place. He found it hard to believe that a man seated in a throne for seventeen years would be so easily stripped of it.
Deros glanced back at him. When he met his gaze, he smirked and clapped a hand against his shoulder. The light in his eyes was there but not for a second did it detract from the seriousness of the man’s words. He stood behind them—every single one of them.
Chapter 14
THE TRAVELS WERE ARDUOUS to say the least. Days upon days of traveling, starting and stopping, with no real end in sight, was frustrating. The cycle was always the same. The newlyweds and their entourage would spend hours on the road, shifting with a groan as the carriage jostled beneath them on the uneven paths. When they came to a stop, they would unload and take up a temporary residence. A day or two spent in the company of loyal nobles, full of fake smiling and underhanded talks of politics, was enough to drive them all mad.
The only peace that came to Riffin and Malia was at night. As they would enter their temporary chambers, whispering their frustrations and complaints towards their hosts, they would let it all fall away in favour of taking to each other’s arms.
The cycle would go on and on, for weeks at a time. In th
e carriage, Malia sighed, holding onto the door, “How is anybody able to have heirs in these conditions?” she asked.
Riffin smirked, “If our luck is anything to go by, you’ll not be with child before this trip is finished,” he said.
Malia laughed, biting the inside of my cheek, “Can we lie and say we suspect it?“ she asked in a whisper. “If it would cut this all short—”
“Don’t tempt me,” Riffin chuckled, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
Across from him, Thane grimaced at the sensation of another jostle. Riffin and Malia looked to each other, though neither of them dared to say anything. It had gone on for weeks; Thane would sit across from them, in visible agony every time the carriage lurched on the uneven paths. He wouldn’t say what was wrong, though neither did anyone dare ask.
Riffin had his suspicions. The way Ewin had looked to his son when they departed had been enough to tell him that he had been warned to be on his best behaviour. It was unnecessary, Riffin deemed; whenever they travelled, Thane always took every necessary precaution. He wouldn’t allow him to come in harm’s way. He never had before and he couldn’t understand why Ewin would think he would let him do so now.
While pain should have diminished with time, Thane’s showed no signs of dissipating. Malia said nothing but, on the next wince that crossed his features, she pulled a cushion out from beneath her back and tossed it at him. Thane jumped as the soft object landed in his lap, looking to the seats across from him. Malia said nothing, instead turning her attention to the views outside. Thane said nothing, taking the cushion before tucking it behind his back.
Making their way through Evradian lands, a familiar house, somewhat imposing as it stuck out in the green fields, soon caught his eye.