Pippa motions the girls along, and they sweep in as elegantly as children are capable, giggling as they go. I’m doing well controlling my emotions—then I spot a familiar girl. It’s Isla, the dirty little urchin from the streets. She grins up at me, and she’s as beautiful as a pixie in her tiny green gown. Her hair is sleek and clean, and her cheeks are pink and healthy. I blink quickly, fighting back tears.
Archer and Pippa have taken on refugees of their own, rescuing people from the village outside the castle.
Pippa gives my arm a squeeze, and then she follows the girls down the makeshift aisle, walking through the maze of flower beds to reach the tree. The music changes, the guests rise, and it’s time. Rigel watches me.
I walk to him as if in a dream. I can’t quite believe this is real. He reaches his hands out for me once I draw near, and he clasps them tightly. I chance a peek at him, and my eyes fill with joyful tears. I wish I could be composed and serene, but I’m too overcome.
“Do you, Lord Rigel of Errinton, take this woman in holy matrimony?”
Rigel’s lips tip. “I do.”
“And do you, Princess Seirsha, Heir to the Errintonian Throne, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” I say, my voice wavering with emotion.
“Do you have the rings?” the bishop asks.
Pippa gives me a nudge and slips a simple silver band into my hand. I slide the ring over Rigel’s finger.
Instead of turning to Archer for my ring, Rigel gently pulls the chain from around my neck and offers me his hand. I set my palm in his, and as he slides the ring on my finger, the sapphire catches in the candlelight.
Rigel’s eyes are dark and warm. “I swear to you, I will protect you with my life, and I will love you for all of my days.”
“I’ve loved you since we were young,” I say. “And I always will. I’ll be true to you, honor you, and stand by your side for as long as I may live.”
“You may kiss your bride.”
Rigel studies me for just a moment as if committing the moment to memory, and then he lowers his lips to mine. His kiss is soft and sweet—completely perfect.
The crowd leaps to their feet as we turn to them, and they cheer. I make to step down, but Rigel holds me back.
The Marquis of Preywoth comes forward. He bends on one knee and lowers his head. “I swear my loyalty and blade to the true king—King Rigel and his fair queen, Seirsha.”
Behind him, Lord Fisher comes forward and does the same. Half of the lords must be here, and they all follow suit. I clasp Rigel’s hand tightly as I watch them. I’m barely able to believe what I’m seeing.
The lords make way for a tall man in Lauramore’s sapphire and silver. He’s handsome and sure, not much older than Rigel. He fists his hand and places it on his chest. “I speak on behalf of my father, King Ewan. Lauramore extends their hand, seeking an alliance with you, Rigel and Seirsha, future King and Queen of Errinton.”
A second man comes forward. “Glendon wishes for an alliance as well.”
“As does Primewood,” another man calls out from the crowd. He stands, his eyes sparkling with good humor, and then he holds up his hand in a casual greeting.
Another man stands. “And Coppel.”
“And Triblue,” says a blond man toward the front.
Never in my life had I thought I would see this moment.
“Friends,” Rigel says as he squeezes my hand, and I wonder if he too is overcome. “There are no words to express my gratitude.”
And for the first time, I truly believe we will come out of this triumphant.
***
The candles are low. Many have snuffed out. The few flower girls that remain are asleep in their mother’s laps. Despite the late hour, we linger at our table with Pippa and Archer and the princes who have traveled to Errinton. I lean against Rigel, content to stay by his side as he runs his hand along my arm.
All but one of the musicians has retired. The man that remains strums his quiet song from the corner. There’s little food left and none of the sweets—those were eagerly snatched up by the children unaccustomed to such novelties.
It was—is—the most beautiful evening, far more lovely than I could ever imagine. I twirl a gold leaf between my fingers and marvel at the way it catches the remaining firelight.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Pippa says from my side, looking up into the branches. “It’s a gift I would have never hoped for. Who would have thought an Eldentimber tree would grow in Errinton? And on Archer’s estate?”
“It’s not unheard of,” I say. “But it’s still a beautiful surprise.”
She nods, turns to Archer, and bumps his arm with her shoulder. “I’m tired.”
He glances around as if he’s just now realizing how late it is. Despite the way men tease women, they know how to gossip as well.
Rigel leans over, his breath tickling my ear. “Are you tired?”
I meet his dark gaze, and butterflies swarm my stomach. Instead of answering, I rise. The party says their goodbyes—all polite, nice goodbyes—but I still keep my gaze averted as my cheeks warm.
Rigel leads me from the make-shift fairy garden. We pass through the doors and are once again simply in Archer’s estate castle. The hall is empty, quiet. Somewhere nearby, servants prepare to clear the mess of the evening, but none are out yet.
I trail behind Rigel, my hand secure in his. My nerves are so tightly coiled; I’m afraid I may come undone at any moment. We pass the room that I thought was to be mine and instead pause in front of a door toward the end of the hallway.
Rigel sets his hand on my cheek. “Seirsha.”
I lean into his touch, letting it calm me even as it makes me burn. His lips trail over my jaw before he kisses me, and then, without any warning, he scoops me into his arms. I laugh and wrap my arms around his neck to keep my balance. He swings the door open and enters the main chamber. Instead of setting me down, he continues to the next door.
My heart races as Rigel lowers me beside the bed. He steps back so we’re not quite touching, and our gazes meet. It’s a look I used to find discomforting, but now I have nothing to hide.
“Did you ever dare to hope for this?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Not this.” He motions to the doors that separate us from the rest of the world. “This night…”
I take a step forward, my eyes never leaving his. “Isn’t over.”
Slowly, I turn, offering him the ties at my back. With gentle fingers, he works the fabric.
Then he brushes my hair aside and kisses the crook of my neck. “Be with me?”
I turn into his arms. “Forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I wake to Rigel’s soft breath on my neck. I peek an eye open and am surprised to see the morning sunshine streaming through the window. It must be late, but with Rigel’s arms wrapped around me, I don’t care. Just because I can, I run my foot down his leg. He mumbles in his sleep, pulls me closer, and I close my eyes again, completely content to doze the morning away.
I awaken to a knock outside our chambers. Rigel groans as he sits up. His smile is lazy and slow, and it warms me. I wrap the blankets around my shoulders as he goes to answer the knock. He says something, nods a few times, and then finally closes the door.
I wait, expecting him to come back to bed, but instead he raises an eyebrow, a wry smile on his lips. “The dragons have gathered.”
“Where?”
He glances out the window. “Here, apparently.”
I suck in a breath. “When you say dragons you mean—”
“All of them, from what I understand.”
“What do they want?”
Rigel sits on the edge of the bed, and he brushes his hand over my bare shoulder. His eyes are intent but good-humored. “They’ve come to form an alliance.”
“With us?”
“I believe they’re a little too far north for Triblue.”
He gives me a
wicked smile and then kisses me, making me forget what we were speaking of.
I sigh against him, wishing we could stay here all day. He kisses my neck and travels across my shoulders. I melt. Finally, he draws back as duty wins, just as I knew it would.
I don’t resent it. It’s just one of the many reasons I love him.
***
Like living jewels, the dragons glisten in the sun. In their great multitude, they take my breath away. They are beautiful—and terrifying.
Sensing my discomfort, Rigel takes my hand as we move forward. They watch, appraising us. This is our first show of power. It is now that they will decide whether we are worthy of an alliance.
We stop on a hill, looking out on them, and wait for their chosen to come forward. Pride blooms in my heart when a sapphire female breaks from the rest. So that’s what Adrinel was doing all this time. She was fighting for her right to rule. And she has been deemed worthy.
Adrinel nods to Rigel, showing him infinitely more reverence than she did while traveling here. “Bowen approaches.”
“How many men?” Rigel asks.
“Four thousand. Maybe less.”
Rigel glances at me before he looks back at Adrinel. “That’s all?”
She doesn’t answer.
He shakes his head, thinking. “How many in your numbers?”
“A little over three hundred.”
I shudder at the thought of three hundred dragons gathered together.
Rigel looks behind us to where Malcolm stands with Archer and Dryal. “How many men do we have?”
“Fifteen thousand,” Malcolm answers. “Glendon has brought eight, Lauramore five, and the rest combined are near ten.”
Rigel stares east, over the hills. Somewhere in that direction, Father is approaching.
“He must know we outnumber him nearly ten to one in men alone. What is he thinking?” he muses.
“Perhaps he wishes to surrender?” Malcolm asks.
Dryal snorts. “You think he wants that large of an audience to watch him hand Rigel his kingdom?”
Malcolm opens his mouth to argue, but Rigel cuts him off. “No matter his intentions, we will be prepared.”
“Surely he won’t mean to fight,” I say. “It would be suicide.”
Rigel frowns at me. “There are times death is preferable to defeat.”
A knot winds itself in my stomach. Though he speaks of Father, I know what he truly means. If it came to it, he would fight to the death to save Errinton.
The thought troubles me more than it should. If Father came away from this victorious, Rigel would die anyway. It’s better to meet death with a sword in your hand than to be beheaded.
Rigel squeezes my hand. “We have three hundred dragons and thirty-eight thousand men, Seirsha. This battle has already won itself.”
His words are meant to soothe me, but instead they make me nervous. Father knows something we don’t. He wouldn’t challenge us unless he did.
Rigel turns back to Adrinel. “Dragon, how far are they?”
“Two days. Perhaps three. Humans are slow and easily distracted; it is difficult to judge.” Her mouth twists in a mockery of a smile.
With the largest flight of dragons in Errintonian history biding their time in the valley below, Rigel wisely ignores her insults. “Will the dragons fight with us?”
Adrinel’s tail twitches. “That depends.”
Rigel sets his jaw, irritated she won’t answer him directly. “On what?”
“The northern mountains and the hot springs will belong to us. From today on, it will be separated from Errinton.”
Finally, Rigel nods. “Fine. That’s acceptable.”
“You will honor the original peace treaty.”
“Yes.”
“Once a year, in each village, your people will gather an offering of gold to the dragons living in that region in exchange for our protection.”
Rigel narrows his eyes. “No. We don’t ask—or need—your protection, only your agreement of peace.”
“Careful, Rigel,” Dryal mock-whispers behind us. “She may ask for a maiden sacrifice next.”
Adrinel sets her eyes on Dryal. She breathes out, and flames lick from her mouth in a warning. “Or perhaps I’ll settle for eating you.”
With a challenging quirk of his eyebrow, Dryal pats the hilt of his sword.
Cocky dragon slayers—it will be a wonder if a battle doesn’t break out long before Father reaches us.
I step forward and place my hand on Adrinel’s side. “We’ll give you gold in exchange for enchanting armor.”
Rigel blinks, apparently surprised at the idea.
Adrinel glances down at me. “And jewels too.”
I glance at Rigel, warning him to keep silent with my eyes. “Yes. Jewels, too.”
The dragon turns to Rigel, questioning if he will challenge my decision. The lord only nods, looking pleased.
“You will seek our council when you consult your lords,” Adrinel continues.
Rigel fixes his eyes on her. “As equals?”
She nods. “As equals.”
“Agreed.”
“We will fight for you, King of Errinton.” She flicks her head toward the tents where thousands of men have set up camp. “You may send them home. They won’t be needed.”
Quite suddenly, Adrinel leaps into the air, and her wings catch the wind. She circles above us, and then, riding high on an invisible current, she roars down to the waiting dragons in the valley. They respond in same, and the ground trembles under my feet with their victory cry.
I grab Rigel’s arm and hold tight, wondering if the hillside itself with crumble and fall from their voices alone. Birds flock from trees, flying in terror. Behind us, horses scream in fright, nearly bucking their riders to the ground.
My heart races not only from fear but from the beauty of it. They are spectacular.
***
A cold knot has settled in my stomach, and the more I try to ignore it, the more it grows. The men prepare for a battle they swear will never take place. Even Pippa is gone. She’s practicing her bow with Archer. She’ll be stationed on the battlements with the bowmen.
I should have taken dinner in my room. Instead, I sit in the great hall, alone. It’s eerily silent. Several servants attend me, but with only one to serve, they have little to do. I take a sip of cider. Seeing I have less than three-quarters of a chalice left, the serving woman to my right immediately tops it off.
I’m surprised they haven’t asked to cut my meat.
I drape my napkin across my barely-touched plate. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway.
“Would you like me to escort you to your room, Your Highness?” the overly helpful woman asks.
“I can find it,” I say as I push away from the table.
Again, servants scurry through the halls, but the rest of the estate’s occupants are in the camp or the courtyard. I pause just outside the door to the room I now share with Rigel. There is no reason to spend the night alone. Rigel never asked me to stay here. I simply assumed it’s where I belong.
Quickly, before I lose my nerve, I make my way through the halls and out the doors. The summer sun has set. The sky is dark, but the courtyard is alight with mounted torches. It’s so bright, a person could read by the firelight if they were so inclined. I think of the dark streets of the village below the castle. I will be adding more light.
I stop, startled at the thought. If all goes as planned, I will have that power. I will be queen. Standing watch at the double doors, a guard bows to me. I nod to him, feeling a little faint. In their minds, I’m already their queen.
The courtyard is abuzz with activity. Hundreds of men go this way and that, but I see no sign of the man I want.
“Where will I find Rigel?” I ask a guard.
“I believe he’s in the armory, Your Highness.”
“Which building is it?”
He points it out. I thank him and weave through the scattered c
rowds. All who notice my presence acknowledge me just as the guard did. There’s no hint of irony in their expressions as there was in those under my father’s command. Instead, I see respect.
It’s disconcerting and very humbling. Who am I to lead these people? I’m the girl who longed with most of her being to flee Errinton and never look back.
I reach the large stone building, and the guards open the doors for me. They don’t announce my arrival, and I’m glad. There will be no more of that.
Rigel speaks with Archer and several of the princes I recognize from our wedding feast. Was that two days ago? It seems like a lifetime.
I hesitate by the doors. Perhaps this was a bad idea. I do not want to interrupt them. I’m about to turn when Rigel glances over. His eyes widen in surprise, but then a warm smile spreads across his face. It almost takes my breath away. Even now, preparing for battle, he’s more at ease here than he’s ever been at court.
He strides to me and sets his hands gently on my arms. After leaning in for a soft kiss, he says, “Forgive me. I’ve been neglecting you.”
I shake my head. “No. I know where you are needed.”
He kisses me again, not caring that we’re surrounded by his men, and then he tucks my hand under his arm. He leads me to the group.
I remember their names but very little else. Teagan, the crown-prince of Glendon, is the first to greet me.
Prince Irving of Primewood steals my hand away from Teagan, and then he steps forward. “If you were my bride, fair queen, I would never leave your side.”
I frown at him, unsure how to respond. I glance at Rigel, but he shakes his head, dismissing the prince with a roll of his eyes.
Bran of Triblue’s smile is warm. He’s dressed differently than the rest, in a way that makes me think of foreign places and adventure. He bows his head to me.
“Your Highness,” Percival of Lauramore says with a slight bow.
And last, my eyes slide to Archer. He says nothing, but his expression is friendly. Apparently none care that I’ve intruded.
“Where has Father set up his camp for the night?” I ask.
The Eldentimber Series: Books 1 - 3 Page 70