by Auryn Hadley
Temotio sighed, looking at Leyli, not Tristan. "I saw Palino slam his head against the wall then start choking him. Thought you might not appreciate losing your husband before the wedding, so jumped in."
"You're fine," Tristan assured him. "Ley? I think Connall is going to need a guard."
"Yeah." She ran her hand down her face. "Tristan, arrange that with Dad? And you two." She turned to the men. "Why are you avoiding each other in public then sneaking off for beers?"
"Uh." Temotio glanced at Connall. "It was a misunderstanding, Leyli."
"Yeah." She folded her arms over her chest, making it clear that wasn't good enough.
Temotio sighed. "I thought I'd offended him in Moyloch. The dog thing. I mean, when he arrived, he pretended like I didn't exist, so I thought he was politely telling me off."
Leyli looked at Connall. "But?"
"I was overwhelmed and honestly thought I'd greeted him. A simple misunderstanding. When he avoided me the next day, I went out of my way to ask why, thinking that alienating your guard is the best way to get a trip back to Moyloch." He chuckled and ducked his head. "And so, I was going to buy him a beer tonight to make up for it."
"Ok." Leyli looked between them, holding each man's eyes long enough to make sure they understood she was serious. "And if either of you have a complaint, you will bring it to either Tristan or I. Am I clear? I do not want my friends to be at each other's throats before our marriage is even announced."
"I'm sorry, Leyli," Temotio said, sliding his hand down her arm. "I was trying not to cause a problem."
"I know, but I'm waiting for the cracks to start appearing. Go have your beer." She giggled, then waved toward the front of the palace. "Go to a pub and ogle the women. I don't care. Just make sure there's a guard with Connall until we have someone assigned?"
"Promise," Temotio said.
Connall grabbed her hand. "Thanks, Leyli." Then he looked up at Tristan. "I owe you, both. It's nice to have some strong friends around."
Tristan gestured toward Temotio. "He got here first. No more misunderstandings."
"None," Temotio assured them, patting Connall's arm. "You're buying, my Lord."
"Deal."
Tristan turned her toward her father's suite, but neither spoke until they were almost there. Leyli kept replaying the scene in her head and none of it made sense. At least she didn't have to worry about Temotio. He looked comfortable enough with Connall as they left. She just wished that things could be a little easier.
"I miss Lenlochlien," she told Tristan.
"Yeah." He rubbed her back gently. "Ley, Palino's not going to stop."
"I know."
Before she could say anything else, they were before her dad's door. Leyli gestured to the guards and one knocked. After a decent wait, her father opened the door wearing his night clothes. He took one look at them and stepped back, inviting them in.
"What?" He gestured to the seating area.
Tristan dropped into the closest chair. "Palino attacked Connall."
Ilario sighed and took the chair beside him. "And you're surprised?"
"Outside his rooms," Leyli added. "Dad, he needs a guard."
The King nodded to Tristan. "Do it."
"Yes, sir. I'd like men on both his rooms, and a personal escort."
"Fine, but teach that boy to at least duck?" Ilario sighed again. "Leyli, you had to pick the most delicate of your suitors, didn't you."
She shrugged. "My options were limited, Dad. At least this way, you know he won't try to pick a fight with Tristan."
"Yeah. I also know that half of court thinks you picked him because you think you're a man, and he's damned near a woman. Is that really how you want the public to think of you?"
"No," she assured her dad. "I want people to respect his mind as much as Tristan's sword. I promise, the nation couldn't run without some brains behind it. That's why I picked him."
"I know, Leyli. I just want to make sure you thought of it. Now get out of my room."
Tristan stood, chuckling under his breath. "Come on, Leyli. I think your father has company."
She took a step, but paused when she realized what he meant. "Dad!"
Ilario pointed a finger at his daughter. "I don't want to hear it from you, young lady."
Chapter 38
Before she knew it, the day had come. All the announcements had been made. All the notices had been posted. All the public appearances were done. The Boier of Moyloch had arrived the day before with his entire family, along with every other noble she'd ever heard of. The palace was overflowing with people. Her hall had been blocked off with guards, so she could have some last minute privacy, but it didn't help.
Estelle and Astrid had outdone themselves. Her hair was long and loose, twisted into soft curls that swung against her back. Her dress fit perfectly, the heavy embroidery like nothing ever seen in court before. Beneath it was the traditional attire, and delivered to Connall's suite was a night dress and robe, since she would be sleeping there all night. The only problem was the man across the room.
Tristan didn't say a word. He didn't have to. The sorrow in his eyes spoke volumes. Leyli wanted to reassure him, but no words could change what she had to do. Until now, marrying another man was just a concept. Something she could talk about, plan for, and keep safely in the future, but it was happening. In minutes, she'd walk out that door her own woman, but the next time she came back in, she'd be the legal possession of the Prince Consort, not the man she loved.
"I don't want to do this," she whispered, blinking back the tears that suddenly threatened to ruin everything.
Tristan sighed and stepped into her, wrapping his arms around her. "I know, pup. I don't want you to, either."
"Can't we run away? There's always Lenlochlien."
Astrid reached up and smoothed back her hair. "It won't help, and you know it. You're doing the best you can."
"It's not good enough!"
"It is," Tristan assured her. "I'll be right there, Ley. Right where you can see me. Tonight, I'll be right there." He pointed to her bedroom. "Keeping it warm."
"But I want it to be you."
He smiled sadly as he reached for her hand. "We did that. This is just a skit. It's just the Princess appeasing the crowd." He twisted her ring slightly, his own brushing against it. "You and I? We know the truth. You look so beautiful, but not as good as you did for me."
Biting her lips together, she bobbed her head, trying to believe him. "I love you, Tristan."
"And I love you, Ley. Like the other half of my soul." He gently brushed back a curl from her neck, then bent to kiss her sweetly. "You do what you have to in order to survive. You're a gladiator, Leyli. You are the Wolf of Oberhame."
"And you're my partner."
"Forever," he promised. "Nothing will change that. Nothing."
Standing on her toes, she kissed him again. "You look magnificent, Tristan. Even better than the first time I saw you."
He smiled, blinking quickly. "I looked in the cell beside me, expecting to see some hag, and there you were. This pretty pink dress, your hair tumbling around your shoulders, and this fire in your eyes. For a moment, I thought I was looking at a goddess, and I prayed to you to let me live through my next fight."
"I was so scared."
He pressed his brow to hers. "You were so brave. After your last fight, I couldn't look at the gate. I couldn't stand seeing no one return. This is just another match, pup. You go out there, you do what you have to, and when you win, you return to me. Ok?"
"I swear."
He caught the side of her face and kissed her hard. Astrid laughed softly, but Estelle sniffed, just like a mother sending her own daughter to the altar. Leyli didn't care. This was her real family. These were the people she loved. Tristan refused to release her until someone tapped at the door.
"Make me proud," he whispered.
She nodded quickly, then wiped at her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she turned, gesturing for Es
telle to answer it. When the wood swung in, her father followed, dressed in his finest, including the crown. He smiled as he looked her over, until he reached her throat.
"You're wearing the necklace?"
Leyli lifted her hand. "And my ring. Yes, Dad. Connall knows."
He tilted his head slightly. "One or the other, Leyli, not both."
Astrid moved toward her, reaching for the tarnished chain. Without asking, she unclasped it, pulling the pendant from Leyli's throat, then quickly wrapped it around one of her shoulder straps. Clipping it back together, she tucked the pendant inside the fabric.
"It's still against skin," she said. "Put it back on when you're alone."
Leyli hugged her. "Thank you. I'll send for you, to dress down for the night."
"And I'll put that back where it belongs. Good luck, Wolf."
Leyli tossed her a grateful smile, then took her father's arm. He checked her over again, smiling wistfully, then nodded at Tristan. With his daughter on his arm, the King of Norihame escorted her to the grand hall, where everyone who could get in was waiting. Behind them, the Secor guarded their backs, the sound of his steps the only thing keeping Leyli going.
The halls were nearly silent. A few servants finished last minute things, but that was it. As they got closer, more flowers appeared, tucked in every possible crevasse. Then she heard the hum of voices. When the grand doors were pulled open, the sound of singing flowed out. No expense had been spared. Her father had demanded a wedding fit for a king - or a Queen.
As soon as Leyli's feet crossed the threshold, the song changed to a tribute to the gods. The crowd fell silent, faces turning to look as she made her way toward the priest, but all Leyli could see were the statues of the gods. Small, no more than a few feet each, all of the major deities were there. All of the gods she'd invoked when she swore to be Tristan's wife. With each step, she prayed they would understand and forgive her for this falsehood, because that marriage was honest. Her eyes fell on a pair at the side. Darkness and Flame; secrets and passion. She begged them to make this easy.
Her heart was pounding. The stares of so many strangers made her feel guilty. For years, Leyli had dreamed of her wedding. She'd fantasized about the man who would stand there waiting for her. She convinced herself that he'd be swooning when he laid eyes on her, and that she'd be smiling so wide that the priest would chide her. Instead, Connall looked as terrified as she felt.
He also looked very fine. His clothes were fit for a Prince. The colors complimented her dress, the style was chosen to make her the center of attention. Slicked back, his short hair was nearly the same shade as Tristan's, and the pale yellow made his eyes look even more green. Connall was a handsome man, even if he wasn't a warrior.
Then his eyes met hers. He smiled then glanced over her shoulder. Leyli knew what he saw. Behind her, Tristan loomed. She'd always know when he was there, just like she knew the moment he moved to the side. That's when the priest began to speak and it was too late for her to flee.
"Who gives this woman into the care of this man?"
"I, Ilario Aravatti, the King of Norihame, give my daughter, Leylani Meridia Aravatti to Connall Aiden Delaney, to be his wife."
"And do you, Leylani Meridia Aravatti, accept this man to be your husband?"
She glanced to her right, across her father's shoulders, and saw Tristan. He nodded, the gesture slight but reassuring. "I shall."
It was traditional to say "I do", but her response was acceptable. It was also the closest she could come to keeping her vows before the gods. No one would raise an eye at it, except Tristan. As she moved to take her place across from Connall, she saw the smile on Tristan's face. He understood. Somehow she wrenched her eyes back to Connall.
He took her hands, his thumb resting on her lion ring. "You look like a Queen," he whispered.
"And you a Prince."
His air rushed out in relief as a smile began to grow. Then the priest began the ceremony. He invoked the names of the gods, asking the couple to swear before them. Like Leyli, Connall answered with "I shall". The first time he said it, he caught her eye and smiled. In that moment, she decided that maybe marrying him wouldn't be so bad. At least her husband was a friend, even if she couldn't love him like she should. Their marriage was a bond of protection. Their vows a promise to keep secrets. The ceremony was not her marriage, it was Norihame's, blending her skills with his and nothing more.
By the time they exchanged rings, her hands were calm. She felt the cold sweat on Connall's palm, but no tremors in his fingers. The ring slipped on easily, the jewelry plain, but it was enough. The priest declared them married, but before Connall was allowed to kiss his bride, he was announced Prince Consort. Ilario moved forward to place a small circlet on Leyli's brow. In the crowd, whispers swelled. It was traditional to recognize the husband first, but nothing about this marriage was traditional. Without explanation, Ilario placed a matching circlet on Connall's brow then stepped away. While Leyli would one day wear a crown, this circlet was the only one Connall would ever get, and he knew it. He also didn't look like he cared.
"Prince Connall Aiden Delaney, you may kiss your wife, Leylani Meridia Aravatti. May the gods bless your union."
When the crowd heard her name, the murmurs swelled but Connall ignored it, stepping close to slide an arm around Leylis' back. "Can you see him?" he whispered.
Leyli looked over his shoulder at Tristan. "Yeah." Then Tristan closed his eyes. "Do it."
Connall pressed his mouth against hers, leaning her back just a bit. Leyli grabbed his arm, fearing she'd lose her balance in the long dress. Connall's lips seared hers, moving softly, over and over as if passionately, but compared to Tristan, it felt empty. She kissed him, trying to find the rhythm, but felt like she was dancing with a stranger. She knew all the moves but couldn't quite find her place. It didn't matter. When Connall stepped back, the crowd cheered as if it was the most exciting thing they'd ever seen.
Leyli's eyes sought out Tristan. At the sound of celebration, his opened. When he saw her waiting, he smiled, then ducked his head. That's when the priest announced the new couple to the country.
"I present to you Prince and Princess Aravatti."
Connall grabbed her hand and they stepped forward, striding out of the grand hall as their citizens cheered. Half way down, he looked at her with a boyish smile and she grabbed the skirts of her dress. They were barely above her shoes before she sped up, her new husband as eager to get away as she was. They ran, making the people laugh. In a few hours, people would say the couple was madly in love and couldn't wait to be together. No one would even think about the dinner that came next.
They didn't stop until they were in the dining hall. Connall tugged at her hand, then let go, bending over to catch his breath. "Well, that's over."
"And you're a Prince. How does it feel?"
He lifted his hands. "Terrifying. I thought I was going to piss myself when I saw Tristan behind you. Did he have to have so many swords?"
From the side of the room came the answer. "Yes." Temotio gestured toward the chairs at the center of the high table. "Congratulations."
Leyli rolled her eyes, but Connall answered. "Thank you. Should I worry that her guards will be lining the walls of my room tonight?"
Temotio licked his lips. "No. I don't think any of us want that. Enjoy the King's chair, Connall. It's the only time you'll ever sit in it." He tried to smile, but it was stiff and false.
Leyli turned Connall to the chairs. It wouldn't be long before the guests began to arrive. "You two fighting again?"
"That's what I was going to ask you." He gestured for her to sit first, then found his place. "I think it was my crass joke."
"Which?"
He tilted his head to Temotio. "About your guards in my room. Either that or they're still worried that I would want to sit here." He shifted. "This has got to be the least comfortable chair I've ever used."
"Dad has a cushion. I think he's trying to sen
d a message."
Connall laughed. "Well, I got it. Trust me, Leyli. One night in this chair is one too many." Then he leaned closer, resting his elbows on the arm of her chair. "I did something frivolous."
"Ok?"
He grinned. "I sent a story teller to the dowager suite and asked Estelle to make sure all your guards attended. He was told to tell nothing but stories about husbands who were put in their place by their wives. I picked two specifically for the Lion. I figured it would make the hours pass a bit faster."
She gasped. "Connall, that's wonderful! I think that's the best wedding present you could have given me."
He shook his head. "No, Leyli. That's a gift for my friends. I got you something different."
"Should I ask?"
Connall winked. "I think I found a way to limit who can be sold to the games. I have three proposals to read through tonight."
"You're going to make a wonderful Prince," she sighed, grabbing his hand. "Thank you. I think my gift pales in comparison."
"Oh?"
Leyli shrugged. "A complete history on the laws of Norihame, two collections of Rhian philosophers, and a copy of the current legal codex."
Connall's laugh was loud enough to make the guests entering pause in surprise. He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. "No, Leyli. That's perfect. Makes me feel like you might even let me help a bit." He looked down, his cheeks turning bright. "Feels pretty good to have someone think my interest in books is a good thing."
"There's more than one way to be a man, Connall." She squeezed his hand. "Just like there's more than one way to be a lady. No one has the right to tell either of us that we're doing it wrong."
"Yeah. I'm glad I decided to try. I like this, Leyli. It feels good to have a friend I can trust, even if I have to call her my wife in public."
Chapter 39
They made it through the feasting and the crass toasts. Leyli found herself giggling, mostly due to anxiety, but it worked. Connall leaned over a few times to kiss her cheek, and they spent most of the meal with their heads bent close, whispering about things others would assume had to do with their wedding night. In truth, she was happy, but she was terrified that Tristan was miserable. He was also nowhere to be seen.