Crown's Shield: The Aermian Feuds: Book Two

by Frost Kay

  “Getting cold feet, my lord?”

  He blinked, trying to shake himself from the memory. “No.” Tehl tugged at his hair. “Am I doing the right thing?” he blurted.

  Zachael studied him for a moment. “Only you can answer that.”

  Tehl sent him a pleading look. “Please, old friend. Speak your mind. I could use an outsider’s input.”

  The older man exhaled, dropping his eyes to the marble floor. “She has been through much, but she hasn’t stopped trying to tough it out. Sometimes, women hold it in for so long they just break down. She will be fine later. I think she just needed to get it out of her system since she probably hasn’t done so until now.” Zachael met his gaze. “You both need time to adjust. All will be well, Tehl. Be patient.”

  No. All would not be well for either of them.

  The combat master glanced at the window. “It’s near time. Ready?”

  He pulled in a deep breath and tried to steel himself.

  It was time.

  Tehl nodded to Zachael and strode through the door, to the courtyard full of people. At his approach, all stood and bowed as hundreds of eyes turned his way, following him as he took his place on the dais beside his waiting father. Carefully, he ordered his features into an appropriately blissful expression for his court and waved to the crowd.

  His father shifted closer and asked underneath his breath. “Are you nervous, son?”

  Tehl glanced from his father to the Elite mingling among the throng of people. He hadn’t been before, but, somehow, his father’s words had him starting to be. What if she didn’t show up? What if she did? His gut clenched. He shook his head to clear the thought.

  Never show any fear, never let them see you sweat.

  “Not at all,” he answered, infusing it with as much confidence as he could. A deep chuckle had him turning and scowling at the king. “She will be here,” he muttered, more to himself than his father.

  Tehl turned back to the crowd and fought the intense discomfort he still felt when under the scrutiny of so many people. He never was a people person. He rolled his neck and took to examining the shine of his boots, staring at his warped reflection. Tehl relaxed his clenched jaw and drew in another deep breath. Once this was over things would be better. He would make it so.

  Suddenly, the crowds quieted.

  She was here.

  Abandoning the examination of his boots, he mentally prepared himself and lifted his eyes toward the doors. He could make out Sam and Gav first and then the two brothers of his betrothed, but Sage was thus far unseen. A thread of panic seized him. Where was she?

  Music started, and the wall of men parted, and, suddenly, she appeared. Tehl’s breath stuttered and he gaped.

  From the crown of her head to the tip of her toes she was breathtaking. Her raven mane glistened in the late sunlight, its locks waving in the slight breeze.

  “Breath, son.”

  Tehl let out the breath he’d been holding and snapped his mouth shut. She’d always been attractive but today she seemed ethereal. Her pale green dress made the green of her eyes seem even brighter than ever. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “Your mother would have loved Sage. Well done, son. Your bride will do Aermia proud.”

  His bride.

  Such a beguiling creature would be his. Tehl stood a little taller as a feeling of satisfaction settled inside him. He watched as she smiled at his people and took in, with wonder, the decorations strewn about the outside garden, creating a version of her meadow, yet she did not meet his eyes. She hadn’t even glanced his direction.

  Look at me, he thought.

  He continued to focus on her, willing her to turn to him. At that moment, her head lifted, like she’d somehow heard him, and their gazes clashed. A jolt went through him at the mix of emotions displayed there.

  She dropped her eyes and stopped at the dais, turning to bestow a kiss upon Sam, Gav, and then her brothers. Next, her mum stood and hugged and kissed her. Her father did the same before taking her hand and turning her toward Tehl as he descended the steps, focusing hard on each one so as to not tumble down them like a drunken fool. Colm’s serious eyes met Tehl’s, an obvious warning in them.

  “Are you prepared to bind yourself to my daughter?” he said, somberly.

  “I am,” Tehl vowed.

  Colm studied him for a beat and then placed Sage’s small hand in his own. Tehl’s fingers wrapped around her dainty hand and he gently led her up the stairs. Sam, Gav, Mira, and Lilja, each a member of the wedding party, followed in their wake. Tehl turned to Sage and reached for her other hand, scowling when he notice he trembled. He glared at the offending appendage, willing it to stop its infernal shaking. He tried clenching his fist, but it was to no avail. Sage too stared for a beat before stretching her hand out instead, a slight tremor evident in hers as well. His eyes snapped to hers and she gave him a wobbly smile, which he returned. It seemed they both were nervous.

  “Are you ready?” he whispered.

  Her slight smile dropped as she swallowed thickly, and biting her lip, jerked her head up and down. Neither of them were ready, but they were doing the best they could.

  “Are you ready, my dear?” his father’s deep voice interrupted his thoughts.

  Sage turned to his father. “I am.”

  When she turned back to Tehl, his heart clenched. His people saw a serene bride about to blissfully wed their prince, but they couldn’t see her eyes. He, however, did and they were anything but blissful. Depression. Exhaustion. Resignation.

  There was no turning back now, their lots were cast.

  His father’s voice rose, and a hush fell over the crowd. Tehl tuned out his father’s words, never taking his eyes from the woman standing before him. Tehl hoped his gaze conveyed to her his commitment to this arrangement of theirs and that somehow it would comfort her, at least slightly. A hand touched his shoulder, breaking his attention from his betrothed. Tehl blinked at his father. “What?”

  A laugh burst out of his father followed by many from the crowd. The king smiled and nodded toward Sage. “It’s time for the binding.”

  Tehl tightened his grasp on Sage’s hands as she began to pull away. He gave her a stern look before dropping her hands; now was not the time to be having second thoughts.

  Sam stepped forward and handed him a silk bag containing a pair of silver cuffs. The silk slid through his fingers while he unwrapped them. Carefully, he extracted the metal bands and stepped up to the rebel, the tips of his boots touching her sandaled feet.

  “Do you accept these cuffs of mine and therefore agree to be bound together until we both depart this world?”

  Her breaths came in and out in quick succession while she stared at the cuffs in his outstretched hands. Tehl shifted as murmurs rippled through the Crown at her. Silence. Stars above, would she to refuse him? “Sage?”

  Her fingers twitched, and she blew out a breath. Sage shoved her arms out baring her wrists but still not meeting his eyes. “I accept.”

  Relief rushed through him as he hastily placed a silver band on each of her scarred wrists. The cuffs were simple in design: plain metal with small waves etched along the brushed silver edge. It was the simplest cuff ever worn in the Crown’s history, but, from what he knew of Sage, he felt they were the most suitable; she wasn’t an extravagant woman. Tehl watched her face carefully but she gave nothing away, carefully maintaining a practiced smile. Disappointment pricked him. She didn’t want to wear his cuffs, but he hoped she would at least enjoy the design he’d created just for her.

  Sage turned to Lilja, who’d stepped up behind her to hand over a roughly woven sack. Sage pulled out a single, larger cuff and turned toward him. His heart stuttered as she stepped closer, her dress rustling. Sage tipped her head back and met his gaze squarely.

  “Do you accept this cuff of mine and therefore agree to be bound together until we both depart this world?” Her voice rang out loud and clear among the assembly, giving no
evidence of her true emotions.

  Tehl searched her face before answering, noting the tightness around her eyes. “I accept.”

  She reached for his hand and slid her cuff up his arm, her soft fingers teasing his skin. His eyes rested on the cuff adorning his bicep. It was nothing like what he was used to seeing. Most men wore cuffs made of bronze, silver, or gold. But Sage had created something new. The cuff was a series of leather and silver strips woven into a complex braid that was sturdy yet flexible.

  “It is done,” his father announced. “Please kneel.”

  Both knelt as his father moved toward them in all his kingly finery, a delicate crown in his grasp. He stood in front of Sage, a tender smile upon his face. “Do you, Sage Blackwell, promise to uphold Aermian law in all your ways, to protect the kingdom with your very life when necessary and to rule with justice?”

  Sage lifted her chin and straightened her spine. “Yes.”

  “I know you will, my dear,” he said quietly, for their ears only.

  The king then placed upon her head an intricate silver crown embedded with pearls. When his father caressed Sage’s cheek before stepping back, Tehl stared in wonderment. His father truly loved his bride.

  “Please stand.”

  Tehl helped Sage to her feet, his own crown feeling heavy upon his head. The king clasped their joined hands, raising them in the air. “Proudly, I present to you the bound Crown Prince Tehl Ramses and his consort, Princess Sage Ramses.”

  Deafening applause erupted from the Crown. A faint ringing filled Tehl’s ears as he beheld the woman beside him who was surveying the cheering crowd with fake enthusiasm.

  It was done, he was bound.

  A strong sense of satisfaction filled him at the thought. He had a companion and not just any, but one who had just as much at stake. Both of their lives were equally vested in his kingdom’s interests. After a moment, she gave him a look from the corner of her eye, a question on her face. He shrugged and smiled, enjoying the shock on her face.

  “Now, my son, make your bride yours.”

  Sage’s nails sunk into his hand at his father’s words. He barely kept from wincing. Tehl slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her toward him but it was like holding a statue. She didn’t give at all. Her wide frightened eyes met his before she slipped a sultry mask into place, stealing the breath from his lungs. Stars above, she was good.

  Sage turned to the king and winked. “What if I make him mine?”

  His father let loose a booming laugh, gesturing toward Tehl. “By all means.”

  Sage popped up onto her toes and pressed her lips against his.

  Flames.

  Bloody hell.

  Tehl didn’t expect the fire in his veins at her unexpected touch. Heat followed her hands as they skimmed their way up his arms and around his neck, fingers sinking into his hair urging him closer. His thoughts turned to mush when her mouth opened against his. Without her permission, he found his arms snaked around her waist, his hands clutching her dress as he hauled her against him until every inch of them touched. Time seemed to stop as he devoured the promises on her lips. When she finally pulled back, he chased her lips once again only to be thwarted by a finger pressed against his mouth. He blinked a few times, feeling like he’d been awoken from a dream, jolting when he met a pair of very serious green eyes.

  Damn.

  Any lingering heat in his blood chilled at the carefully composed look on her face as realization dawned.

  It was an act.

  It was for the crowd.

  Tehl cursed his own infernal weakness and fumed. How could his damn body betray him like that? He lowered her to the floor, attempting to compose himself. He was better than this.

  Control, Tehl. Control.

  The roar of the crowd filled his ears, and Tehl shook his head once before pasting on a smile of his own.

  “Are you all right?” Sage muttered.

  He grunted. He refused to talk about what just happened.

  “Let the celebrations begin!”

  Tehl wove Sage’s arm through his and muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”

  ***

  Wading through the crowd of well-wishers was a nightmare. It took forever just to make it to the raised dais where the ceremonial dinner was to be served. Then, dinner passed in a flurry of conversation and courses. Sage ate next to him, conversing with anyone and everyone like a true princess. She listened and empathized with those she spoke to, building a personal connection with each interaction. She made people feel comfortable and important, her conversation a good blend of sense and witty remarks. The cords of a soft and slow tune began, reminding him of their last ceremonial responsibility. Tehl scooted back his chair and stood, holding his hand out to the rebel looking up at him through her lashes. “My lady, will you dance with me?”

  “Of course.” She placed her napkin on the table and placed her hand in his, rising. Turning to the table she gave them a nod and a smile. “Excuse us”.

  Tehl lead her down the dais and to the stone dance floor, the stars serving as their backdrop. People emptied the floor and gathered in a circle around them so they were the only dancing couple on the floor. Tehl twirled her once before bringing her into his arms. With practiced ease, he began the twirling steps that had been drilled into him as a child. The crowd smiled and whispered as they pranced and whirled. Tehl looked down, scanning Sage’s profile. He was pretty sure he hadn’t said more than two words to her since the ceremony. She raised a silent brow in question. Apparently he’d been caught staring. In response he simply said, “It’s done.”

  “Indeed, it is.” Her lips twitched.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You.”

  “Why?”

  “I know it’s done. If you’ll recall, I was there too.”

  Tehl snorted and looked over her head, amused at himself as well. “True.”

  “One word answers, my lord?”

  He shrugged. “Are additional words necessary?”

  Sage glanced up at him briefly before looking away. “I suppose not, sometimes simplicity is the best.” A pause. “The decorations are beautiful.”

  Tehl blinked at the change in subject. “I am glad you like them.”

  “It looks like my meadow.”

  “I wanted you to have at least one thing you’d always wanted tonight.”

  She gave him a genuine smile, one that reached her eyes. “It means more than you know. I won’t forget your kindness.”

  He cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. “It was nothing.”

  “If you say so, my lord.”

  They finished their dance in comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to fill it. By the time the song drew to a close, Sam was already at his side, ready to sweep away his bride for the next number. After a few hours of dancing, he was done with the night. Tehl thanked his last dance partner and strode toward Sage and her current partner, Zachael. He stopped and sketched a shallow bow.

  “If you don’t mind, old friend, I am here to retrieve my bride.”

  Zachael kissed her on the cheek and handed her over to him. Her smile dimmed some at the change in companions but did not disappear completely. Cheering went up as they exited the dance floor together. Tehl guided her to her family and bowed over her hand. “I will see you soon, my lady.” Tehl nodded respectfully to her brothers and father before making a quick exit. Swiftly, he made his way to his rooms, thinking about the awkward evening ahead of him.

  He jerked to a stop when he opened his door. Every surface was covered with lit candles and a fire blazed in the hearth. Someone had placed sweet treats and a few bottles of spirits on the table between two wingback chairs that sat a comfortable distance from the flames.

  Grimacing, Tehl skirted the bed and pulled off his boots. He reached the spirits and poured himself a drink then wandered passed his closet. Frowning, he took a couple steps back and eyed the mass of feminine clothing items now in it. The staff h
ad certainly been busy. He rolled his eyes and downed the alcohol, relishing its burn at the back of his throat. He then plopped into one of the chairs and stared into the flames, mulling over the fact that his wife would arrive soon.

  He froze.

  His wife.

  Tehl jumped out of the chair and poured another drink. He had a wife. He was married. There was no reversing what had happened today. For better or worse they were bound forever. The door slammed open and he startled. He spun as Sam, Gav, Rafe, and Sage pushed into the room, all of them shouting. Sam shut the door and latched it while Sage shook off Gavriel and brushed by Rafe to pour herself a drink.

  “What in the name of hell?” he barked and stabbed a finger at the rebellion leader. “Why is Rafe in our room?”

  Sage glared at him before downing her drink. “Well, Your Highness, the issue is that someone just tried to kill me.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tehl

  Tehl brows furrowed. Did he hear her right? He tore his gaze from her face and glanced to the room’s other occupants. By the murderous looks he saw on their faces, he must have indeed heard correctly.

  “What happened?” he asked firmly but calmly. They’d been expecting something like this, so there was no need to completely lose it.

  “I’ll tell you what happened,” Sam exploded. “An assassin strolled right through the crowd to congratulate our new princess on her marriage and, in front of everyone, attempted to cut her heart out!” Sam’s hands shook as he ran them through his hair.

  Tehl blinked. Sam never lost his cool. If his brother was upset it had to have been a very close call.

  Tehl glanced to the seething brunette beside him, and an image popped into his mind of her lying there on the stone floor, her body in a pool of blood. His stomach soured at the thought.

  “If Sage hadn’t been carrying one of her daggers she would be dead,” Sam added.

  The words hung in the air, leaving a sense of darkess on the room. Tehl breathed through his nose, frustrated. He bit out his next question, “Where is he?” He expected an attempt on her life, it was part of being a royal, but it still rankled. How dare someone attack Sage, his wife, a woman under his protection.