by Lorna George
Apparently seeing the same things he did, Rayan spoke slowly and quietly. 'We could just end the agreement now. Their ways are not ours, and by our own laws, you are not truly married until you have shared her bed. Their ceremony means nothing to our people.'
What Rayan was saying was indeed true, but the act would be incredibly dishonourable. The Ffionite ceremony might be nothing more than a great deal of talking, but it meant something to them. Ignoring it, despite all he was likely to face with this woman by his side for the rest of his life, would come with consequences.
He had known that Ffionite women were different from what he was used to. They were raised differently, without the same obedience to their fathers and husbands that was normal in Koren. He hadn’t really minded that, but this woman was so profane, he couldn’t imagine living with her for any amount of time.
In truth, he had only agreed to marry Adrienne in an attempt to re-stabilise Ilios after the Pirate Wars. It was true that things between Koren and Tsumetai were still tense, but with time that would mend. It helped that he had never wished to go to war with them in the first place, and in being so lenient with the new Empress after her surrender upon the death of her father, he had gone a long way to healing the breach. It wouldn't happen overnight, but the wheels were already turning.
The problem now was Ffion. It was the smallest of the three continents, but it was just as important as its two larger neighbours. Where Koren traded the salt, glass, gold, precious stones and other rich minerals, Tsumetai traded in steel, silk, tea and ship building, but it was little Ffion that kept everyone going with its vast farmlands and deep forests. Most of the livestock of Ilios, which would not survive in Koren's harsh deserts or Tsumetai's frozen mountains, was raised and slaughtered here for the world's consumption. Not only that, but a great deal of the lumber needed for mining and shipping came from here, as well as grain and fruit from the fields and orchards. If Ffion starved then so did the whole of Ilios, and Ffion was starving.
Part of Arun knew that if the old King had survived to rule after the Pirate Wars, then despite the ravaging of the coasts, this problem would have already been taken care of without his intervention. It was harder to forget that Adrienne was responsible for the murder of the royal family, her own family, now that he was faced with her, but it changed little of the situation before them. King Maximilian had died, and now Ffion was ruled by his niece, this usurper, Princess Adrienne, a woman who clearly had no idea what was expected of her. He felt somehow responsible, knowing that it had been his decision to bargain with the pirates all those years ago that had triggered the opportunity for Ffion's civil war. He had resolved to fix the problem, and then the proposal of marriage had winged its way to him.
It had seemed so perfect at the time. Where Ffion's economy was failing, Koren's was on a high. He would use the wealth of his own country to take care of hers, unite the two so that all could be fixed and put right, and in the process gain a wife.
A wife wasn't his main concern, of course. His main concern was an heir. He had just reached his twenty-sixth summer and had already reigned for five. In the time that had passed marriage had never come up, but now his people were becoming expectant. His own mother had died in childbirth, and his father soon after of a broken heart. Arun had been raised by his uncle Darius, alongside his cousin Rayan, whose father had also perished years before. Now the last of the three brothers, Darius had ruled as regent until Arun was old enough to take the throne, teaching his nephew even as he taught himself what it meant to govern a country.
Darius had made it plain more than once that he had no intention of marriage, and Rayan and his wife, Esta, were unable to conceive a child of their own. This meant that if Arun himself did not produce an heir, a stressful enough expectation of any King under normal circumstances, then Koren would fall into civil war after his death. It would mean the end of the Hadrian line, and that was a burden he was unwilling to carry.
'Too much rests on this union.' He spoke quietly, more to himself than to Rayan in an attempt to steel his resolve.
'We can find you another bride. One we can be certain will only carry your children.'
'It could bring war,' Arun said. 'I’ll not be responsible for another one.'
'The people love you, my King. They would not wish for you to be bound to such a creature, no matter the cost.'
Arun looked back at his cousin. His face was set, light brown eyes twitching furiously as he tried to convince the younger man of his point. Rayan had been like a brother to him his whole life, and now acted as the Commander of the Royal Army and his chief bodyguard. He knew with utmost certainty that Rayan would take care of this problem with just a word, and gladly. It was true that along with the generally dismissive attitude of the Princess herself, being all but ignored and even relegated to a separate table in the furthest corner of the Great Hall at his own wedding reception had piqued his annoyance. It showed such a want of decorum and respect; he knew he was well within his rights to demand better treatment. Usually he would have, but the many problems buzzing around his mind, mixing with the wine that seemed to have gone straight to his head, made him apathetic and weary. He simply couldn't be bothered, and that didn't bode well at all.
'You really don't have to go through with this, Arun.' The gentle voice of Rayan's wife, Esta, pulled him back from his dark, exhausted thoughts. She had leaned forward, peeking around her husband, her face filled with concern for him. He noticed now that almost all of the Korenian entourage were also watching, though attempting to look as though they weren't.
'No one wants war any less than I do, but that woman...' she hesitated briefly, trying to find a diplomatic way of putting it, then deciding almost instantly that there wasn't one. 'That woman can't be Queen. Not of any country. If you return with her as your wife, it will only cause more trouble.'
'She's had no one to show her how.' Arun tried to be fair, despite his heart not being in it.
'No, she hasn't,' Rayan agreed. 'But the reason she hasn't is because she had her whole family murdered. Her uncles, her aunts, her cousins… her own father! And hundreds of other innocent people, just for being loyal to their murdered King and his family.'
'It was a military coup,' Arun sighed wearily, taking a sip of his wine. 'These things happen.'
'You don't mean that.'
There was no question in Esta's far too motherly voice, and he smiled tiredly. 'No. I just fail to see the point of this being brought up. Again.'
'The point is that she was never a popular choice amongst our own people,' she persisted patiently. 'But the Tsumetese Empress wasn't at all impressed by your decision either, and for whatever reason, it has caused yet more friction. Uncle Darius could only placate her with assurances that you would bring her tyranny to heel.'
Esta looked pointedly at the head table, and he instinctively followed her gaze. Adrienne was drinking more wine and laughing loudly as she all but crawled into Lord Cygnus' lap.
'Take it from me, Arun,' Esta murmured. 'There will be no compromise with a woman like that. She is too used to having her own way, and she will crush anyone who tries to stop her.'
Rayan and Esta made a compelling point. He found that within the space of only one day, he already felt disgusted with his new wife. His potential wife, if he chose to ignore the Ffionite ceremony. He could do it. No one could blame him after all he had endured today. No new husband should be treated in such a way, let alone a King by his new Queen. She was making a mockery of him. Of him, his country, his people, and their customs. He didn't have to marry her. There were other ways to stabilise Ffion. He could organise his own military coup and have her de-throned. He could give the Redwood throne to someone else, someone who would take care of it, take care of the people. Someone who would fulfil the obligations that Adrienne seemed so disdainful of. He could do it. He could.
'Husband, come!' she suddenly called from across the room, clicking her fingers at him as though summoning a dog.
'I am leaving to make ready for bed!'
He heard a loud gasp of shock from Esta, even as her husband jumped to his feet in outrage. Arun simply held up a hand for silence, not even looking up from his goblet as he did so. Apparently oblivious to the raging insult her attitude had afforded, Arun heard the scrape of many chairs and the fanfare as Adrienne exited without so much as waiting for his answer.
'Arun,' began his cousin in a low, angry whisper, hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword.
'No, Rayan,' Arun shook his head, speaking lightly and feeling somewhat lethargic despite the tension in the Hall. 'She is clearly drunk. Let it go.'
'You are our King!' Rayan spat, still furious. 'More than that, you are my cousin. I will not stand idly by and hear you so thoroughly abused in this blatant way. Arun, please! You must not marry this woman!'
'I will not be responsible for another war if I can help it, and I would not put my people through that because of one drunken woman,' he interrupted, taking a deep breath and standing slightly unsteadily. 'Besides, it seems she is not alone in her state.'
He laughed quietly, finding it amusing that he had taken too much wine on the one night he should have been stone cold sober. He finally looked up to his cousin, who blurred slightly, and patted his shoulder reassuringly. 'I’ll talk with her. If I find she's as unworthy as she appears to be, then I'll call it off. Agreed?'
'You are my King,' Rayan stated stoically, finally letting go of his blade and bowing respectfully. 'I trust your judgement.'
'Thank you.' Arun placed his empty goblet onto the table before him.
As he strode out of the hall, he heard his entourage jump to their feet and stand to attention. He walked towards the wedding chamber, nothing but sheer determination not to look a drunken fool driving his steps, even as his vision blurred around the edges. For his cousin to speak so openly of war, and so ill of his intended bride, did not sit well for the future. He did not like that they appeared to hate their potential Queen already, and he did not like that he himself already resented the woman. It would not make for a happy marriage, and an unhappy marriage would cause unhappy children, a thought that concerned him almost as much as the prospect of war.
He did not want his children to grow up knowing that their parents had no respect nor love for one another. Darius had often told him as he grew up that the greatest thing a man can do for his children is to love their mother, and he believed it. It was all that had kept him from resenting his own father for leaving him so early in life.
In an arranged marriage the chances of finding that kind of love were very slim indeed, but he had still hoped that they could be friends and grow to care for one another. In years to come, who knew what might happen? But this woman, this rude, ignorant woman, seemed bent on humiliating him. He would not marry her unless she could prove herself worthy, war or no war.
There were two guards at the door to the wedding chamber, and he stumbled through into the blackness, dizzy and disorientated. He nodded curtly as the guards bowed before closing the door and throwing him into complete darkness. Remembering the Ffionite custom of the wedding night being in a pitch black room, Arun cursed lightly under his breath. He couldn't see an inch in front of his face!
'Are you in here, woman?' he asked, voice harsh from his suppressed annoyance. He expected some sort of reprimand, if anything at all, but he was not prepared for the soft but sure voice that answered him.
'Yes, Sire, I’m here.'
Using her voice as a means to navigate towards the bed, he stopped just short of where he could sense her waiting for him. She was standing in front of the bed, and he was confused by her sudden change in attitude. He wondered briefly at her transformation, but quickly brushed it to one side. Perhaps her Council had sensed his anger and warned her to appear more humble towards him.
'I don’t understand this custom,' he told her, rubbing at his eyes and trying to see. 'It seems a ridiculous way to begin a marriage.'
'I quite agree, Sire,' she replied, sounding oddly wistful. 'I think it would be better for both of us if you, at least, could see me.'
Finally able to make out her shape in the darkness, he reached out and grasped her shoulders to steady his reeling senses. When she gasped in apparent shock, he almost withdrew, but the way she flinched and felt so fragile under his touch gave him pause. Her skin was soft and she felt so much smaller than she had looked in the Hall, but he knew that there were many tricks a woman could use with the right corset and shoes. He felt her long, wavy hair brush against the back of his hand as he held her, and tried to make her out in the darkness, but had to take a moment to steady himself as another wave of drunken dizziness swept over him.
'What was that revolting wine, anyway?' he muttered, resting a hand to his forehead. 'I’ve not been so unsteady on my feet after drinking in years.'
He felt her small shoulders raise up slightly as though she were ducking her head in embarrassment. 'Truthfully Sire, I think the choice for strong alcohol was deliberate. I suppose they thought that if we weren't entirely sober it might make the whole, uh, situation a little easier.'
'You did this to me on purpose?' he growled.
'It had nothing to do with me!' she snapped back unexpectedly, apparently losing her composure. He found himself retreating slightly at the tone she suddenly used, and wondered how changeable one person could truly be. There was a defiance in her voice that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. She immediately seemed to regret her outburst, however, and shrank in on herself once more, though sounding far less timid than she had previously. 'I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I’m not entirely in control of my own faculties either.'
'I realise that. I would hope no sober person would behave in such a way as you did this evening.'
He felt her body freeze under his hand, then was bewildered to find it being slapped away as she stumbled backwards. 'Forget it. I can't do this, it’s insane.'
'Oh no, you don't, My Lady,' he grabbed her arm more by chance than design as she tried to shove past him. 'If I can swallow my pride enough to come and speak with you in an attempt to make this thing work, you can manage it as well!'
'You don't understand,' she snapped, struggling to get free. 'I’m not who you think I am!'
'I certainly hope not. Who I think you are right now doesn't bear discussion.'
'Let me go. You’re not listening!' She snarled. He ignored her and she continued to fight him, stomping down on his foot more than once despite apparently having bare feet while he wore boots. She moved as though she was used to having more strength than she currently did and he was once again struck by how small she was under his hands. She tried to punch him, but there was no weight behind it and he caught her wrist to keep it still.
All at once, he realised she was terrified. Terrified and exhausted. The realisation gave him pause, and for the first time he began to think of her as a real person. She was a girl in way over her head, with no one to lean on except for the devious Lord Cygnus, and who was about to lose her virginity to a man she had barely spoken to. Sympathy for her plight kindled inside him. No wonder she had stayed as far away from him as possible while getting herself progressively more drunk throughout the night.
'Hush,' Arun tried to soothe, pulling her tiny form against his chest and wrapping his arms tightly about her to keep her still. 'Hush now. I’m not going to hurt you.'
'No, you cussing well aren't!'
He found himself smiling slightly in surprise at the language and her continued attempt to get free, despite, he was sure, knowing she was outmatched. Afraid of hurting her, and feeling his own strength begin to wane, he decided to try a different tactic.
'They're making you do this, aren't they?'
The struggling ceased almost instantly and after a few laboured breaths she whispered, 'Yes.'
'Lord Cygnus?'
He felt her nod even though she gave no verbal response. A great weight was lifted from his foggy mind with this
new information. Cygnus was just using her. If she married Arun, not only would Ffion be set to rights once again, but Cygnus, as her royal Chancellor, would be left as regent while she returned to Koren with him. He had to get rid of the man, quickly. She stood no chance with such a powerful shadow looming over her head and dragging her down. He would replace Cygnus with one of his own men, and get her away from this dark, desolate place. She would be safe with him, free to flourish into a Queen that he could be proud of.
It was with a jolt that he realised he had just accepted her as his wife. It would be tricky, but he would make it work. He knew now that there were hidden depths to this woman, depths that the rest of the world needed to see. All he had to do now was convince her to go with him.
'I know you're afraid, little Firefly,' he spoke softly, trying not to slur his words. 'But I believe that for the sake of everyone, it would be best to continue with this marriage.'
'What?'
The complete and utter shock in that one word surprised him, but still he persevered. 'Would it truly be so bad to marry me, Adrienne? I could take you away from here, away from Cygnus' influence over you.'
'Oh, I... I see.'
'We could leave tomorrow,' he insisted, her body completely still under his embrace. Leaning down slightly, he kissed her forehead and sighed. 'You could be free of this place in the morning.'
'Free?' she turned her head away from him. 'You make it sound so simple.'