The Beast King's Bride (Warlords 0f Farian Book 1)
Page 12
I steel my shoulders. It doesn’t matter now, but it will matter later when King Kane and I perform the Unveiling in the privacy of his castle. For now, only my sisters and most trusted friends will see me before he claims me. The last in this realm of the living to truly see me. I swallow hard.
“You look beautiful,” Rose says stiffly.
Delphine nods encouragingly, her wide, innocent eyes silver with tears. “If he’s absolutely horrid, I’ll cough twice.” She takes my hands in hers and holds them tight. “Stay strong, Briar.”
I put on a strong smile even though I don’t feel it. Sera and Laurel return with my veil. A piece of fabric that will cover me from head to toe. It’s red, by the request of King Kane himself, and absolutely covered in precious gems and metals and pearls. The veil is thick and will be heavy with the additional decorations. Delphine places a tall, thin crown on the top of my head. The crown isn’t for decorative purposes, but to hold the veil off of my hair so it won’t ruin the styling.
I brace myself for the heavy fabric. Sera and Laurel drape it over the crown and I wobble under the sudden weight. Rose catches me. “I told you to exercise more, you weak little girl,” she hisses.
I grimace apologetically, meeting her eyes. All I see is cerulean blue, completely opposite of my gray eyes, before the veil shrouds me in darkness. I can hardly see the glow of light through the threads of the veil. My heart is in my throat as panic sets in. I've never been one for dark or small, cramped spaces. I wring my hands together out of sight until I've calmed. Sera sticks her head under the veil, and I look down on her, panic clear in my eyes. She smiles encouragingly and mouths that she’ll miss me. I nod desperately and force my eyes away before I fall into tears.
It’s all real now. I’ve been thinking of and preparing for this moment my entire life, but somehow, I’m not ready for it. All year, I felt nervous and excited about meeting my future husband, wondering what he looks like and how he speaks. I’ve dreamt about the sound of his voice. But, Gods, I would give anything for just one more year at home.
“Come, Delphine,” Rose says. “We must put on our own veils.”
“Yes,” Delphine whispers. She leans close to me. “Remember, two coughs.”
According to custom, all unmarried women must be veiled during the Collection so as not to distract the groom from his bride. My sisters will wear detailed and lovely veils, but they will be the traditional ivory. The door snaps shut, and I know they’ve gone. I sag a little, revealing my fear to my friends.
“Don’t listen to them,” Laurel says. I feel her hand through the veil as she rubs my arm. “King Kane won’t have fangs, or claws, or a tail.”
“He’ll be handsome and kind,” Sera promises.
“Thank you,” I murmur, grateful that my two, true friends wouldn’t try to fill me with fear before I meet him.
“And remember, if you don’t wish to be wed after the three months, you can come home, no questions asked,” Laurel says eagerly.
I swallow thickly, throat dry. If I did that, my father would never forgive me, and no suitor would want a tainted woman. But I nod for them, to put them at ease. They make a few adjustments to my veil, making sure it truly does cover me from head to toe. The stone floor is cold against my feet, and I shift nervously. Brides don't wear shoes, entering barefoot into their groom's home.
I hear the door creak open, and Laurel and Sera guide me towards it. There will be a guard on the other side to escort me to the throne room where the Collection will take place. I shuffle behind the guard, between Sera and Laurel. They hold my elbows when we gingerly descend the many stairs leading from my room to the main floor. I miscalculate the distance for a step and scuff my big toe against the stone. I hiss, pain flaring and settling into a dull throb.
The guard’s loud footsteps halt and I know we’ve reached our destination. My stomach is filled with butterflies, so many that I fear I’ll vomit the meager lunch I was forced to eat. I’m grateful, for once, for the thick veil that hides my panic-filled eyes from view. I don’t want my father to see how terrified I am. I think I’m practically green.
I feel a strong arm around me and lean into my father’s embrace. “Remember, what you do, you do for your mother and Ryrn,” he murmurs.
I nod fiercely, fighting back the tears pooling in my eyes. I can’t cry. It will ruin my makeup. “I know, father,” I whisper.
He pulls away and I’m filled with fear again. “Don’t be afraid. You’re a Princess of Ryrn.”
His words mean little to me now that I’m already drowning in anxiety, but I nod anyway. My sisters enter the throne room first, their heeled shoes tapping on the floor as they’re escorted by servants. My father follows, and the door closes behind him. I wait alone, Sera and Laurel were sent away. Through the door, I can hear my father’s booming voice as he discusses the terms of the Collection with King Kane. He makes a swift speech about the ties between our kingdoms. And then the door opens again.
I take a hesitant step forward, my feet never lifting from the ground, so I don’t lose my footing or sense of direction. I walk as regally as I can into the throne room, holding my head high. It’s the cold that almost stops me first. I hesitate, fear coiling around my heart. I’ve never felt cold like this before, the kind that creeps over you like a snake. I shuffle forward until I reach the soft padding of a carpet; my spot.
When I turn and face in the direction of my groom, it’s completely black. There’s no light filtering through my veil any longer, it’s as dark as night. I almost jump when my father’s voice rings out beside me.
“I, Alban Charleroi Deslionne, offer you a Daughter of Ryrn,” my father intones.
My heart pounds, waiting for my groom’s reply. “I,” a silky voice purrs from in front of me. I feel weak at the knees, relieved to hear a normal voice. Kane’s voice is deep, without grating on my ears; an addictive sound. “I, Kane Enfer of the line of the Gods, accept this Daughter of Ryrn.”
“She is yours, lest the Gods strike me down,” my father says, his voice booming through the throne room.
The ceremony is complete now, but grooms may offer a final proclamation if they wish. So, I wait, knees quaking, as I face my groom in complete darkness. I hear a soft breath in front of me, and I know it’s him. My stomach does an odd, little flip at the sound.
"She is mine, the token of a debt now paid, lest the Gods strike you down," Kane says. I shiver at the sound of his voice, at the dangerous implications of his words.
Soft footsteps as my father steps backward, leaving me alone before Death himself. I fix my eyes forward, praying to the Goddess of Peace that he can't hear my heart pounding in my chest. I hear the soft rustling of fabric as Kane closes the distance between us. The shadows around me grow deeper and I wonder if he himself is nothing more than darkness.
But then I feel the firm touch of his hand on the small of my back. He’s cold; even through the veil I can feel the chill emanating from him. He guides me forward, fingers digging into me. I don’t feel any claws. I try to breathe regularly, to convince him that I have no fear. But I can’t help the gasp that slips from my lips when my world tips upside down.
I’m going to the Underworld.
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About the Author
Bailey Dark is obsessed with all things dark, hot, and supernatural. From Fae to Aliens, her heroes are thoroughly alpha and pure raw masculinity. When she’s not writing (which is hardly ever) she’s busy watching every movie in the marvel universe, or binging supernatural on her couch. So come along, and enter her dark world. . . .
https://www.baileydarkromance.com/
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Bailey Dark, The Beast King's Bride (Warlords 0f Farian Book 1)