by Kai Kazi
His jaws were clenching and flexing. He was deep in thought, dark hair falling over his eyes. Finally, Avondale took his hand, smiling.
“What is it, my love? You seem so distant.” She said quietly,
His thumb stroked absently over her soft, warm skin. It was a sign that he was thinking hard about something, which was not uncommon. She was used to competing with his inner world for attention, but she found it endearing rather than frustrating. They walked for a few moments longer, somehow finding themselves in the Firefly Garden, one of Avondale’s favorite places. The fireflies gave a golden glow to the room, and the roses became radiant under their reflected glory. She touched the glass and stared at them, heart contracting suddenly; how many times had she considered breaking this glass to set them free? The roses would die, but the fireflies would scatter to the winds and the world.
And she would miss their light.
She pulled him down beside her on the granite bench, still holding his hand.
“What is it?” Her green eyes were full of vibrant curiosity that was tempered with just a bit of worry. Finally, he met her gaze.
“Avondale, you are breathtaking.” He said with a gentle, huffing laugh, “Every time I am near you, I cannot believe that you are to be mine forever.” She couldn’t help but giggle, a light tinkle of music in the cool summer air.
“Not much longer, Aiden,” she promised, “But I sense that you have something else to say?” He smiled and shook his head, pushing a tendril of her lush blonde hair behind her ear.
“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know that?” He said, and she nodded,
“Yes,” she said and drew the word out. He coughed and cleared his throat, “What worries you, my love?”
“I… I am nervous.” He said, “It is such a…”
“Big step.” She said, “It’s a new page.” He nodded and let his shoulders relax,
“Yes,” he said, “I did not wish to say in case you felt that I was changing my mind.”
“I know you’re not.” She said, “And neither am I, but I understand.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling when he turned his head to kiss her nose, her cheek, and then her lips. Avondale leaned into the kiss. It was still tentative, these few forays they made into love, but his kiss was warm, a sweet promise of what was to come in just a few short nights. She felt his fingers stroke her cheek as he shifted closer to her, his lips were wet and soft as his breath filled her ears and mouth. When they finally broke apart, she sighed happily, her eyes shining. Aiden seemed equally entranced, but the spell was quickly broken when Galadriel poked her head around a corner,
“Avondale,” she said, “it is time.” She nodded and kissed Aiden on the cheek before following Galadriel to her rooms.
Her dress was stunning, based on the one her mother had worn the day she announced her pregnancy to the kingdom, but it was intricate, complex, and restrictive. Within moments Avondale was wondering the value of becoming an official adult, particularly as her maid tugged on the strings of her corset with a grunt. Avondale winced.
“Why in god’s name, Galadriel, do we put ourselves through such torture?”
“To look good for our men, my lady.” Galadriel said with a low laugh, “You feel like it cannot be worth it now, but when you see the look on your young prince’s face you shall reconsider, believe me.” Avondale shook her head, grunting yet again when her maid tightened the strings. She felt as though she was nothing more than a piece of poultry being relentlessly trussed up for the best appearance possible. Of course, she knew that the end result would be worth it, but she was aggravated endlessly by the fact that women were expected to be bound and tucked and sewn into their clothing, and even more so that they were expected to do this without question. Every so often, she wondered what it would be like to be a man, able to wear clothing without having to be strung so tightly that she could scarcely breathe.
It was starting to become panic inducing; she felt she would not possibly be able to breathe when the great hall began to heat up. She focused on how her life would be, how she would like it to be, when she was in Archibald with Aiden. She would be alone and autonomous for the first time. Only Galadriel would come with her; no Papa, no house guards… no Greendale.
“Is everything all right, m’lady?” Galadriel leaned forward in the mirror as she tied off the corset strings. She smiled quickly at Galadriel.
“Yes. No.” She stepped away from the bedrail she’d been clutching while Galadriel had been tightening her corset and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know,” she confessed to the elderly woman.
“What do you mean, Avondale dear?” She said
“Forgive me,” Avondale said, “but I’m… feeling some sadness at no longer having my full-time guardian with me.” Galadriel smiled.
The older woman hugged her tightly and pushed her hair back from her shoulders; Avondale found herself hugging her back as tightly as she could. A shaking grief was ripping through her, and though it made no sense she could not bring it to heel.
“Princess, your royal guardian is likely rather sad himself, but he knows you will be well looked after by Prince Aiden and the Kingdom of Archibald.” Galadriel said firmly, “And anyway, Avondale, he has Fiona. He will not be alone, and you will be able to see them now and then if you wish.” Avondale nodded and pushed her hair back from her face,
“My Master Greendale has taught me much over the years,” she said softly as she turned to look out the window. “He has been very much like a beloved uncle to me, Galadriel, and I am glad that at the very least, any responsibility for me he might feel is alleviated. He has fought long and hard over the years… Lady Fiona will no longer have to worry about him, at least, and they will not have to worry about me.” Galadriel smiled gently. She placed her hand on Avondale’s bare shoulder. “My princess, I think you will find that Master and Lady Greendale shall always worry about you.”
A light tapping came at the door.
“Avondale? We are ready for you downstairs.” Aiden said, voice muffled through the thick oaken door. He was early, though that was far from surprising. She sighed,
“One moment, please, love.” She called and motioned for Galadriel to help her into the gown. The final, silken layers were much less intricate than the underskirts and corset, but the overall effect was of a sea-green river dripping from her shoulders to pool on the floor. She smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in her dress and inspected her reflection in the full-length mirror beside the door. Finally, she nodded at her maid. When the door swept open, Aiden gaped at her. He seemed to be holding his breath before he stepped forward, gallantly offering an arm.
“Avondale, I have no words,” he said softly before leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek. “I am truly blessed to be escorting the most beautiful woman in all of Europia to her 18th birthday celebrations.” Avondale smiled shyly.
“I thank you, sir,” she murmured. Galadriel had been right; it was worth all of the pain and discomfort, “Are you nervous?”
For a moment, he looked every inch the little boy he had been when they met, but then his sense of duty descended over his handsome face.
“Nervous that our love is officially declared to the world? No.” Silence hung between them for a few moments. He looked sidelong at her, his expression sheepish. “Nervous that all eyes are going to be on us? Yes.” She laughed, patting his hand. The sound was a light tinkle in the air, and Aiden stood a little taller, feeling suddenly more confident. “I think you will be stunned by the work that has gone into this event, love,” he murmured.
Avondale’s breath caught in her throat when she and Aiden made their way to the wings of the stage where her father and his father, the King of Archibald, were waiting. King Ridgehand saw them from the other end of the room and smiled. The hall had been beautifully decorated for Avondale’s eighteenth birthday party, and, unbeknown to most, engagement party. The royal parties from all other kingdoms were there to pay homa
ge to the lovely princess. King Ridgehand surveyed the assemblage, knowing that his daughter, his only beloved child and memory of his late wife, was waiting in the wings to be officially introduced. He spread his arms wide in a universal gesture of welcoming and cleared his throat.
“Honored guests, thank you so much for the great honors you have shown to our kingdom by your attendance at this, my only child’s party. A gathering to celebrate her transition into womanhood. She has become a woman that I am truly proud of, and I am sure that her beautiful mother would be no less proud.” He swallowed, and Avondale bit her lip; speaking of her mother never seemed to get easier for him. By all accounts she had been the fire in his belly, and the true heartbeat of the kingdom. She could only hope that she and Aiden would share such mutual love and respect. He cleared his throat and pushed on, “Avondale has truly become the heart of this great kingdom, and she will doubtless steal the hearts of those in her new kingdom of Archibald… for I am proud to announce that my daughter shall be united in love to Prince Aiden of Archibald, whom she has known her entire life.” At the cheer of the crowd, King Ridgehand grinned at her. Aiden was with her, his hand over the hand that she had nestled securely in the crook of his arm. The shaking nerves were becoming almost too much for her, “It is with this wedding between our children, and therefore the union of our two kingdoms that we shall celebrate the creation of a new country, soon to be the greatest country Europia has ever seen. The great country of Avondale shall become one with Archibald, and our histories shall be one, and it is thanks to these incredible children of ours. They will achieve in love what others never managed to do with war, or even diplomacy.” The crowd rustled with laughter, and he waited until a hush had settled over them once more. “So, honored guests, it is with a father’s pride that I introduce your princess and my future son-in-law, Princess Avondale and Prince Aiden.”
He watched them with ravenous pride and love, the same heavy care that had followed her for her entire life. When she neared her father he reached for her and pulled her close, hugging her tightly,
“I am so proud of you, my child,” he said into her ear before releasing her to be embraced by King Eaglecross of Archibald. Aiden’s father began to enthuse about the upcoming nuptials; he seemed more excited than his son. His wife rolled her eyes at Avondale with a grin,
“You look lovely, my dear,” She said and passed her a glass of sparkling wine,
“Thank you, your Majesty.” She murmured,
“Ah, call me Cali, my child.” She said, “I’ll be your mother, too, soon.” Avondale nodded, ignoring the pang of irritation and looked around. Her father was talking to Master Greendale; Avondale’s heart contracted. She would leave them both behind soon. Their conversation floated to her through the bustle of the party.
“It is simply unusual, sir, that Avondale has become a woman so quickly, and that she is to be married,” he murmured with a small smile. King Ridgehand nodded.
“I agree, Jon. It seems that it was yesterday that I held little Avondale first. What a bittersweet day.” He smiled sadly. Fiona stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her liege’s arm. “Your majesty, focus on the joy the day brings, not the sorrow it reminds you of.” She smiled. “She is every inch the image of her mother.” Avondale swallowed the lump in her throat and excused herself; she should have been making her way to the dancefloor, but this was more important.
“Fiona, Master Greendale.” She said and threw her arms around the woman who might as well have been her mother, “I am so glad you came.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, my love.” Fiona said, hugging her tight. Master Greendale nodded, but said nothing before hugging her as long as decency and protocol would allow,
“We’ll miss your presence, little spark.” He said, “And I will miss seeing you each day.” His voice was unusually thick, and she thought she saw tears in his usually stern eyes. In the golden light cast by the fine trimmings and thousands of candles in the hall he looked suddenly older than she had ever seen him. His eyes were lined, grey was beginning to pepper the sides of his hairline, and his strong hands, when they clasped hers, were swollen looking. Twisted from hard use to the ends of others. To her ends. He was old now, she thought, and only getting older. It hit her that there would be a day without him, and that sent burning tears to her eyes. Avondale hugged him once more,
“And I you. Both of you.” She said wiping her eyes,
“Oh come, love,” Fiona laughed, “You’ll ruin the maids hard work.” She dabbed under Avondale’s eyes gently.
“Jon,” her father said suddenly, his expression serious, “I truly do not know how to thank you for your countless years of service to my daughter and I.” He presented a long box to him, “But this is a small token of my immense gratitude, my friend… Though I hope you never need it. If there is anyone who deserves retirement, it would be you.” Master Greendale smiled at the kings words and ran hand over the box lid before opening it. The sword within was simple, but beautiful and obviously of the finest standard. It suited him perfectly, Avondale decided. Pragmatism over flair had always been his style. The king clapped him enthusiastically on the shoulder. “Yes, retired with full honors, my friend, as befits a man of your stature and service. I’m certain your lovely Fiona has a list of duties you could fulfill at home, eh?” Her father said with false cheer, Avondale raised her brows and caught Fiona’s eyes. She was blushing fiercely.
“Shall we return to our home, my wife? You look unwell.” Greendale said, face the picture of concern. Avondale stifled a laugh, and Fiona shushed her before smiling,
“Yes, love, I believe it is time.” She said, “Let us leave the young ones to their fun. We’ve had ours, after all.”
Aiden approached with a flustered look on his face,
“Avondale, we’re meant to be on the dancefloor!”
“Master Greendale, it is my honor to present to you my betrothed, Prince Aiden of Archibald.” Avondale said, “Master Greendale and his wife are leaving now.” She said, and Aiden’s protests died immediately, Master Greendale shook Aiden’s hand,
“An honor to see you again, sir, and looking so much the royal heir” he said, and then leaned forward conspiratorially, “of course the last time we met you were still falling out of trees.”
“And onto my trifle.” Fiona laughed, and Aiden blushed.
“I remember you well, Master Greendale, and believe me, the honor is entirely mine.” Aiden said, “Lady Greendale,” he bowed to her, “I shall endeavor to flatten no deserts tonight as a personal favor to you.” The couple laughed, and Avondale beamed, almost overtaken by the glowing warmth in her belly. Suddenly Avondale jumped,
“Oh, I nearly forgot!” She cried and turned to look for Galadriel; she was waiting quietly and patiently but a few steps away. She really had honed her role to a fine art. Shyly, Avondale thrust forward a hand in which there was a velveteen box with a small bow on it. Master Greendale looked at her, surprised. “It’s a gift, Master Greendale; it’s a small token of my gratitude and my love for the great care you have shown me over my whole life.”
Fiona’s grin was broad as she realized her husband was completely taken off guard at the gesture. He looked down at her questioningly, but she was too excited to care. Greendale’s breath hitched when he saw the token a heavy gold brooch with which to hold his riding cloak in place. On the back the inscription ‘Thank you, Gifted Father. Love Avondale’. Aiden touched his arm gently, sparing the old warrior the need to express anything.
“Thank you, Master Greendale, for keeping my Avondale quite safe and for helping her become the beautiful woman she is today,” he said solemnly. “I plan to continue to keep her safe, in the tradition that you began.” Master Greendale nodded, but said nothing. Fiona laced her arm through his and rubbed his shoulder,
“See that you do.” Was all he said, but it was warm and soft.
They departed without further display, and Aiden gripped her ar
m,
“Time to dance, my love,” he said, “the kingdoms are waiting.” He grinned, eyes sparkling in the light of the candles. She followed him, stumbling over her new shoes,
“I have a confession, love,” she whispered as they slid onto the smooth, shining dancefloor,
“What?” He said, looking worried,
“I cannot dance.” She giggled, “Or at least not well… my instructor told me that it was good I had you, because I would never fare well as a debutant.”
“Then lean on me, love.” He said, “I’ll see us through.” As the music took up he pulled her closer and gripped her waist tightly. Avondale smiled, drawing in the scent of wine and perfume with the cool evening air.
CHAPTER VI
The altar room was little more than a glorified storeroom, but Shaitani had yet to complain so Drakho assumed it was fit for purposes. Her glee at the arrival of that damn statue was enough to curdle the contents of the hardest stomach, but it stayed in the room. There was little else for it, though the guards had started to complain of whispers in the halls at night. Drakho eyed the damn thing and sniffed,
“If you’re summoning in here, I want to know.” He said eventually, “The guards say they hear whispers in the night, and these are the ones who don’t know this is here.” Shaitani grinned,
“This is good, boy,” she said, “they’re touched by the Prince. They feel the veil,” she said, “and the Others speak to them. They will take the change well. Bring them.” Drakho sighed,