The classes had taught her how to handle various dignitaries, nobles, and other kings along with their wives and children, how to eat with politeness, dance with grace, sit and walk with dignity, but not how to… her cheeks heated at her own thoughts. Will he expect to do that tonight?
She twisted and paced in the opposite direction.
What would she do?
He couldn't, could he?
Even with his injuries?
No.
What if he did?
She stopped and stared out the window. The sheer blocked her view, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t looking outside anyway. She jumped when Anaya called her name and tapped her shoulder. Her entry had gone unnoticed.
“My mother wishes to speak with you. I will stay with Josiah for a time. Matthias will show you where she is.”
“Thank you.” Cahri moved toward the door.
Anaya touched her elbow to get her attention. “Cahri, we have talked of this possibility for many weeks now. My brother cares for you, and he will take good care of you. Trust God to know what is best, even if you don't understand right now. I'll see you in a bit, and then we will get you ready for your wedding.”
Cahri wiped her sweaty palms on her pants as she left the room. She found Matthias just outside the door, and he showed her to where the queen sat in the midst of an oasis in the courtyard surrounded by fig trees. At their bases a variety of daffodils grew. Unusual this late in the year. To the side, a water fountain gurgled. She hadn't seen this particular courtyard before and glanced around at the snowdrops, lilies, and tulips flowering everywhere. It relaxed her somewhat. She took a deep breath.
“Come. Sit, child.” The queen’s quiet words calmed Cahri a bit, but not for long. A servant handed her a glass of ayran, a popular yogurt drink. She mumbled a thank you. It sloshed from side to side.
After a few sips, Cahri set the glass on the table next to her and folded her hands in her lap to still their trembling.
“Relax, Cahri. You are joining our family, not being executed.” The queen laughed at her own joke.
Cahri forced a smile to her lips.
“We want you to be comfortable. I also wanted to be sure you understand what is expected of you now that you will be a princess.”
“Yes, ma'am. I think so, for the most part.” Her fingers twisted the material of her pants, which she then had to flatten out again.
“Then why are you so nervous and agitated? You were pacing in Josiah's room after he slept.”
Cahri's face heated. She had forgotten about the cameras. “I…” She hesitated.
Could she talk to the queen about this? She was the only married woman Cahri had contact with at the moment, and she had to ask someone.
“I think I understand how to maintain the rules and requirements of being a princess, but…” Her face heated once again. She sighed and plunged in. “It's being a wife I'm not so sure about. My mom loved me with all her heart but never wanted to talk about… private things.”
“Ah, so that's it.”
The queen dismissed all of the servants.
“Let’s start with you telling me about your mom.”
Cahri sighed. “She was wonderful. I mean, she wasn’t perfect, of course, and I didn’t always agree with her decisions, but she was always there for me when I needed to talk. Her quiet questions always helped me find the answers I was looking for. She knew her Bible too. Verse after verse would pour forth just when I needed them.”
“Do you look like her?”
“No.” Cahri laughed. “I look nothing like her. My mom was born in Turkey, so she looked more like you — dark hair and eyes, olive skin. I inherited my dad’s coloring. He was American through and through. His ancestors arrived in the early 1700s from Ireland and Scotland, looking for food and freedom. My brother looks like my mom.”
“Where is your brother?”
“France, with his wife and three children. He hated being mistaken for a native, while I’ve always wanted to. It broke my parents’ hearts when he left, but they understood.”
Cahri relaxed until the queen changed the subject. Her face burned as her future mother-in-law explained what she would need to know about how to be a wife and be pleasing to her husband.
****
Josiah woke with a start. Something in the room seemed wrong.
Where was Cahri?
He tried to sit, but groaned with the pain it caused his ribs.
“Cahri?”
“She’s with Mother.”
Josiah sighed. Cahri had been in his presence for such a short time, but he missed her already. She soothed him in a way no one else ever had. He tried to sit again. Anaya came to help him. He ran his fingers through his hair.
“I did not wish to marry this way.”
“I know, but it’ll be all right. She will still be your wife, even if it’s not the ceremony you desire. Let me call Matthias. It’s time for you to start your preparations.”
Josiah dropped his head to his chest after Anaya left the room.
Did Cahri want to be his bride? Or was this being forced upon her?
Doubt filled him, but he would not express it. The time had passed for objections. She’d had the opportunity to leave when the Bridal March had been canceled, but she'd chosen to stay. She had to have known this would be the outcome.
Matthias entered but stood waiting inside the door.
“Come. Let’s get this painful process over with.” He submitted to Matthias’s ministrations. A simple bath became an ordeal. He groaned in pain when Matthias helped him on with the one set of dress pants he had that would fit over his cast.
“Move the chair by the balcony windows. I will rest there until time for my wedding.”
“Yes, my prince.”
Matthias assisted him to the chair. He gritted his teeth as he waited. The pain radiated from his leg and ribs to the rest of his body. He wished they’d hurry.
His father walked into the room. Great. He didn’t feel up to carrying on a conversation right now. The king sat down across from him.
“Are you feeling up to this?”
“I’m fine.” He gritted his teeth to control his irritation.
“I can see and hear that you are.” His sarcastic comment, conveying Josiah’s words, did not match his tone.
He shrugged. “I will be fine.”
“Yes, I know. I didn’t come in here to argue with you. We’ve done too much disagreeing in recent months.” His father dropped his gaze to his lap. An unusual action for him. “You are about to become a husband. Are you ready?”
“Even if I were not, it would be too late to do anything about it. My fiancée will be here in moments. We will do this. I will learn as I go.”
His father nodded. An uncomfortable silence fell.
“I’m sorry, Josiah. I know I’ve pushed you hard since Jonathan’s death. My grief kept me from seeing you for who you are, and not just as a replacement for Jonathan. When word came you’d been injured… my heart clenched. God reminded me that you are different. Not any less, nor any more, than your brother. And you are still my son, and I do love you.”
Tears burned his eyes at his father’s words. At long last, he sees me for who I am.
****
Cahri's return to the sitting room was done with haste because the conversation with the queen had taken longer than expected. When she entered, Anaya and another woman waited.
“There you are. Mother kept you far too long. We must hurry. Sit. This is Ella.”
Cahri obeyed.
Anaya removed Cahri's hat and undid the loose bun. While Anaya brushed her hair, Ella took off her shoes. A puppet had more control over its movements than she did at that moment.
Anaya led her to a bathtub scented with the same fragrance she used every other time Cahri was to be in the prince's presence. His favorite. “In you go. We have to make it quick tonight, but you must be clean and smell nice.”
After Cahri dried off an
d put on a plush bathrobe, she sat on the same stool as before. Ella again went for her feet. Cahri was confused.
Anaya must have noticed because she said, “Ella is going to paint your toenails first and then your fingernails. You must be presentable to the prince from head to toe.” She chuckled at Cahri's blush.
“Anaya, if you are here, who is with the prince? He is being cared for, right?” She started to stand, but Anaya stopped her with a touch.
“Relax, Cahri. We would not leave him alone, although he is a big boy and can call for help if he needs it. Matthias and my father are helping him prepare for your wedding.”
Cahri took a deep breath. “Is this the right thing to do?”
Ella glanced up with a startled expression but said nothing. There must have been some silent communication from Anaya because Ella returned to the adorning of Cahri's toes.
Anaya moved around beside Cahri and gazed at her, a curious expression on her face. “Cahri, why do you doubt God's wisdom? You know the Scriptures, yet you still don’t believe God is trustworthy and always has what's best in mind for you.
“You remember the verse in Romans where it says, ‘And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.' I know you love God, even if you are upset with him right now. Think about this, you are here for a purpose, for a reason.” Anaya’s eyes closed for a moment, as though she prayed.
“Josiah has chosen you. And yes, he did choose you. Long before the accident we knew who his choice was going to be. Your willingness to come and be his servant without a commitment for the future helped my father agree to it. Believe and trust in God again, Chosen One, for now you are the chosen one.” Anaya paused, pressing a hand to Cahri’s shoulder.
“Soon you will be my sister. Now stop your fretting, pray for the peace of God, after you forgive Him for the wrong you perceive He did to you. Remember, all things, not just some things, but all things work together for our good because we love God.” With a squeeze, Anaya released her and went back to working with her hair.
Conviction stirred Cahri's heart. She closed her eyes and ignored all the activities happening around and to her. She prayed and opened her heart to God for the first time in more than three years. She asked for forgiveness for forgetting her first love, Jesus. She spent many minutes on her spiritual knees before her heavenly Father having the discussion with Him she should have had the day she found out her parents were dead. She had wasted all those years and asked for forgiveness for that as well. Tears streamed down her face. At first they were tears of surrender and thankfulness for being forgiven and then they were tears of the joy and peace only the Father in heaven could give.
When she opened her eyes again, Ella had left. Anaya stood with her eyes closed. Cahri took a deep, cleansing breath and rose from the chair and went to see the clothes laid out on the back of the couch. She found a simple white silk gown trimmed with light green embroidery. The cocktail hat was also white silk, but covered with a green lace matching the stitching on the gown. White netting cascaded down the front and sides. She touched the outfit, in awe of its simplicity, beauty, and elegance.
She put it on with Anaya's help and gaped at herself in the mirror of the adjoining bathroom.
I feel like a bride.
Though not the wedding gown of her little girl dreams, it made her feel special, as though it had been made just for her. It combined the style of Belikara with a few American traditions.
“I knew Josiah had good taste, but this is perfect for you,” Anaya commented for the first time.
“Josiah?”
“Yes. He had this made for you last week. I told you we knew even before the accident. He felt the Lord told him to have it made before the Bridal March ended. I am so glad he did. You are beautiful.” She paused, but then seemed to come to herself. “Come. It is time.”
Cahri hesitated. “I'm nervous, Anaya.”
Chapter Nineteen
Josiah opened his eyes to a rustling sound coming from the sitting room.
Cahri walked into the room. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was so beautiful. She glanced at the bed.
Was she looking for him? His heart beat faster.
She shifted, panic on her face as she scanned the room. When she spied him in the chair, her face went from panicked to something else he couldn’t quite define.
“My prince, you should not be out of bed.” Her voice held a note of censure.
Anaya, standing behind her, touched her arm in warning. Cahri ignored her and took a step forward.
“Do not start our marriage by telling me what to do, Cahri” His voice sounded gruff to his own ears.
She took a step back and lowered her eyes. “My apologies, my prince. I meant no disrespect. I am only concerned with your welfare.” Her voice, not quite a whisper, moved straight to his heart.
He stared at her. The dress he’d had the seamstress sew fit her as he’d imagined. He glanced to Anaya, who nodded her head at his unspoken question. Cahri was happy with the dress. Creamy white silk hung in a straight line from her shoulders to the floor. It hinted at the curves beneath by touching her hips enough to accentuate them. The green roses embroidered at intervals added a touch of color meant to match her eyes. The accompanying hat, also creamy white silk with green roses, complimented her porcelain complexion.
Soon she will be mine.
His pain level increased when he inhaled to stymie the desire flooding his veins.
“Come. Let’s do this. Anaya, go get everyone.”
Anaya moved to obey. She opened the door, and the minister entered first, followed by his mother and father and Matthias. Both of his parents’ faces beamed.
Anaya steered Cahri over beside Josiah. She wouldn’t look at him. He’d hurt her with his gruffness. He sighed. He wasn’t even married, and he had failed to treat her the way he should. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
The minister cleared his throat.
Too late now.
Josiah signaled to Matthias to help him rise. A sound of disapproval issued forth from his bride’s throat, but she said nothing. He leaned toward her a bit and whispered a warning for her ears alone. “I will stand at my wedding.”
To the minister he said, “We’re ready. Make it quick.”
****
Less than fifteen minutes after walking into the room, Cahri was a princess and wife to an obstinate and exhausted man. The minister, Anaya, and the king and queen hugged and congratulated them and then left.
“Leave us,” Josiah instructed Matthias, who regarded him with a frown on his face. Though the prince sat, his lips were pale, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Wait.” The word slipped out before she could think about what she was doing. Her new husband glared at her.
She kneeled before him, praying she wouldn’t anger him again. “You are exhausted and need to be in bed. I am not strong enough to get you there on my own without hurting you more in the process. Please, my prince, allow Matthias to help you.”
He glared down at her at first, but then his countenance changed. He reached out and caressed her cheek. “As you wish.”
Matthias lifted him from the chair as if he were a fragile child and placed him on the bed.
“Thank you, Matthias. You may go. I’ll call if he needs anything.”
The prince grumbled at Cahri’s words, but said nothing she understood. His patience wore thin with her. She would have to placate him in some way.
After Matthias left, she asked, “Would you like some pain medicine?” The pain, evident on his face, made her heart ache.
“No, I want to be awake for a while longer. We must talk. I will deal with the pain.”
“For now,” she said. “How about something to eat or drink?”
“Stop it, Cahri! I am not a child, nor am I incapable of speech. I will ask if I want something.” His voice sounded rough. She wasn't sure if it was
because of pain or anger.
She took a step back, lowered her gaze, and waited in silence. This was not how she'd pictured the first few minutes of her life as a wife, even when she'd known she would belong to Josiah. He'd been nicer when she'd been a servant. A single tear slid down her cheek.
“Remove your hat.” His gruff words startled her.
“But… but…” She hesitated, knowing someone could come in at any time.
“Will you defy my instructions again, Cahri?”
“No, my prince.” She took out the pins holding the hat in place. Not sure what he wanted, she held it in her trembling hands.
She didn't look at him because she didn’t want to find disappointment in his eyes. Already she’d failed, and she’d only been his wife for five minutes.
“Undo your hair. I want to see it loose.” The velvety voice returned and soothed her nerves.
She did as he asked, laying aside the hat and undoing the bun. Her hair fell into soft waves down to her waist.
“Come here.” His gentle voice pulled her more than his words.
She inched closer. He had been so angry just a moment ago. Would he hurt her in his anger?
“I'm not going to hurt you. Please come here and sit beside me.”
She did as he asked but didn't look at him, even more insecure about how to be a good wife to him.
What did he expect her to do?
Was she still a servant or his wife in all ways?
He lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look at him. “I'm sorry I got angry with you. There are no excuses. Please forgive me. I want what is best for you, Cahri, but you must trust me to make wise decisions.” He tried to take a deep breath then groaned. “Even if you don’t agree with me, please don't contradict me in front of the servants or anyone else ever again. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “I'm sorry, my prince.”
“Say my name, Cahri.”
“I'm sorry, Josiah. I didn't mean to undermine your authority. I'll try not to do it again.” She spoke the promise, but it would be hard to fulfill.
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