Restoring Dermot

by Andrea Boyd

  We started down the trail in complete quiet but for the thump of her staff with every step. I slowed us down as soon as we were out of sight of most of the castle. “I am sorry for the way things turned out today. It did not go the way I had planned.”

  She did not say anything.

  “I had only gone to your father to ask for permission to court you. I had planned to propose on my own. You deserve better than being ordered into a marriage.”

  No reply.

  “Regardless of how this has begun, I promise it will be better for you after we are wed. I meant what I said to the king. I will not allow you to be mistreated by him once you are my wife.”

  Nothing.

  “Princess, have you lost the ability to speak?”

  She stopped walking and looked directly at me for the first time since we were in the library together.

  “Why do you call me that? I have never once heard you say my name. How is that any different than what my father does? You say things will be better after we are wed, but that is not so. After tomorrow, I will have two rulers instead of one. How is that better?” She had punctuated each question with a thump of her staff on the frozen ground.

  She was angry. Good, I much preferred that to the subdued girl from earlier today. “Correct me if I am wrong, but I take it your father believes that a wife is under the rule of her husband. I can guess that is why he married a woman from Cordelia. Well, I am not marrying a Cordelian. You are not expected to bow down to my every whim. Get this straight. Even now, we are equals in rank and in relationship, and I do not expect that to change.”

  Her brow wrinkled over dark, glaring eyes. “Who do you think raised me? I may not be from Cordelia, but I am the next best thing, right? You are just like him.”

  “Do not ever compare me to your father again.” I took a step forward and she raised her staff between us. “What? Am I supposed to be threatened by that stick? What do you expect to do with it, knock me upside my head? You may get in one whack before I pry it from you, and then what?” I turned away in frustration. I was glad for the communication but this was not what I had in mind.

  I felt a hit on the back of my knees and one to my chest. The world seemed to spin, and I landed hard on the frozen ground with the wind knocked out of me. When my vision cleared, all I could see was the end of her staff just inches from my nose. I looked past it to the angry woman standing over me. In an instant, her brown eyes grew large, she placed a hand over her mouth, and the stick was gone from my view. I wondered briefly if she had ever used a weapon in anger before. At least she had restrained herself before bashing my head in.

  “I am so sorry. I should not have done that. I do not know what came over me.”

  I started laughing. Everything considered, it was an odd expression of my feelings, but I could not stop myself. She took a step back as I rolled up to my knees and held my hand out to her.

  “May I?” I pointed to the staff she held in her hand. She slowly stretched the end of it out toward me. I took it and laid it on the ground beside me. I reached both of my hands out to her. “Could you come here, please?” I did not want to crawl to her on my knees.

  She took small steps toward me. When she got close enough, I grabbed her waist and pulled her to me, taking both of her hands in mine. The sky was beginning to darken behind her. We would have to turn back soon, or we would not be able to see the path.

  “Adrika.” She had been looking at my chest, but her gaze flew to mine when I said her name.

  “Everything that has happened today from the time I stepped out of the library until now, forget all of it. Forget about the fact that your father is demanding that you marry me. This is me asking you, and I want a straight answer. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She did not answer at first. I was not sure what her response was going to be. If she turned me down, I would find a way to escape before the ceremony. Her father would never know she rejected me. Even if she said yes, it would only be because I was better than the alternative, but it would still be her choice.

  “Yes, I will marry you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  I freed one hand and dug into my pocket. “Please accept this ring as a symbol of our betrothal.” I slipped it onto her finger. It was a little loose, but it could be adjusted later.

  “I have nothing but myself to offer, but I promise to be faithful and kind, and if there is ever a time that I am not, you may use your staff on my head.”

  A small laugh escaped her lips, drawing my attention there. She placed her hands on both sides of my face and bent down to kiss me tenderly. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer to deepen the kiss.

  Twelve

  Adrika

  I hardly recognized my reflection in the full-length mirror in front of me. I smoothed my hands down the front of my mother’s dress. The tiny beads covering the ivory silk shimmered like gold with every stilted breath. The memories of her, the longing for her presence . . . it was almost overwhelming. I missed her so much. Why could she not have been the one making over my appearance on this my wedding day instead of Damini and Kariann?

  After Rian’s proposal the night before, we had sat on the bench outside my bedchamber, talking a little and kissing a lot. I could feel the restrained control on his part to not take things further than they should. I had felt it did not matter one way or another since we were soon to be married. Besides, we had been accused of such anyway. Of course, I never voiced this to him.

  I had felt confident then, but every time I glanced over at the big four-poster bed we would share on this night, I was plagued by uncertainties. This whole day had been full of the unexpected. Why should it end any differently?

  Just after breakfast, Damini informed me that she would be leaving right after the wedding. My uncle had insisted that she return to Cordelia with him. We both cried as we held on to each other. It was the first time I had ever witnessed tears rolling down my nursemaid’s cheeks. It was like losing my mother all over again, but this time there would be no one to grieve with me.

  Kariann had shown up midmorning to help me get ready. Without conferring with me, Father had hired her to replace Damini. I liked what she had done for me the day before, but the thought of being around her bubbly personality for the rest of my life was more than I thought I could take. At least she was not as talkative as she had been previously, but the smile she wore at landing this position seemed to mock my grief over losing Damini.

  The two of them spent all morning bathing me, and rubbing jasmine scent into my skin and hair. After they were done, I was led back to this room instead of my own. Damini explained to me that I would be sharing this suite with my new husband.

  These chambers had once belonged to my parents, and I suspected they had been used by my father’s parents as well. The furniture was from several decades back, but at least it had been recently cleaned. It seemed that mother had tried to blend the dark, old-style Dermish décor that had already existed with Cordelian accents. It was an ugly mix, in my opinion, but at least it was more spacious than my childhood suite.

  It was almost time for my wedding, and the two women were still hovering around me adding the finishing touches. Damini had found some of Mother’s jewelry that would almost match the emerald ring Rian had given me. I held my hand in front of me to admire it once more. The large stone was cut simply into a square, circled with two rows of small diamonds. It was more magnificent than any piece of jewelry I had ever owned. Mother had thought that a young maiden should wear dainty jewelry, so everything I owned was tiny in comparison.

  The final piece to my ensemble was my mother’s diamond tiara. It had been a wedding gift from her own mother. I could almost picture Mother gently running her fingertips over the geometric design as she explained the symbolism behind it. The boxed-styled spirals intertwined but never touched, just as a young engaged couple should. The whole thing was covered in tiny diamonds but for the single
large one in the middle—the symbol of two becoming one, Mother had said.

  Instead of Mother, it was Damini who placed the tiara on my head. I looked into the dark-brown eyes of the woman who had as much to do with how I turned out as my own parents and wondered how I would make it without her. I had no other companions, no one to talk to. She smiled back at me and then kissed me on the cheek.

  “Are you ready to become a bride?”

  “Maybe if I speak with Father, he will talk Uncle into letting you stay.”

  The corners of her mouth turned down. “The decision has been made, Rika. You know how it will go. Neither of us have a choice in the matter. Why not try and make the best of this day?”

  She was right. There was no use. My plea would fall on deaf ears. I stood a little straighter, determined to keep my emotions in check. “I am ready.”

  The three of us made our way to the throne room. The closer we got, the harder it was to breathe. I took in long, slow breaths trying to calm myself. I expected the room to at least be filled with the servants who resided within the castle, but when I walked in, only three people were present. Father sat on his throne, Uncle Galik stood waiting to perform the ceremony and looking none too happy about it, and Rian was pacing the floor.

  The prince turned and looked at me as I came further into the room. He took a couple of steps toward me with his mouth gaped as his gaze roamed from my head down to my feet and then back up again. Rian took my hand when I came close enough to him. I could hear him take a few hard breaths. Was he as nervous as I was? He led me over to where Uncle Galik stood.

  “Daughter, kneel down before your future husband.”

  Without thinking, I looked up at my uncle, causing his scowl to deepen, and then back to Rian. I could not read his expression. I had never witnessed a Cordelian wedding before. In Kearnley, the man usually did the kneeling. I was not as slim as my mother had been. Her ivory dress flared out at the bottom and trailed behind me, but the area around my bust and hips was snug. It would have been a struggle to get down on my knees if Rian had not been there to help me.

  Uncle Galik began as soon as my knees hit the floor. “Repeat after me.”

  “I, Adrika Kathleen Mahon, do swear on this day my promise to fully obey, without giving thought to my own desires.”

  This is not what Rian spoke of.

  “My very life depends on my faithfulness to you.”

  In Cordelia, unfaithfulness equals death. Is this what I am agreeing to?

  “I will give to you all honor and glory above that of other men.”

  Is this what my father expects?

  “To you, my husband, I give my pledge from this day forward, even after death.”

  After death?

  I repeated my uncle’s words even as my heart felt as if it were sinking lower into my stomach. I glanced up at Rian. He was staring down at me with his lips pursed tightly together. What were his thoughts on this ceremony?

  Now it was the groom’s turn. I listened carefully as he repeated my uncle’s words. “I, Rian Lucas Barnali, do swear on this day to protect and instruct you, to lead you in an honorable and righteous way with discipline and courage. I accept this pledge you offer. I cover you, my wife, my treasured possession, with this oath and will provide for you until death shall part us and beyond.”

  These were not the words I had expected to hear on my wedding day. I felt cheated.

  “Rise, my daughter, you will be known from this day forward as Adrika Mahon Barnali, giving honor to your father and husband.”

  Rian helped me to stand and then pulled me into a fierce kiss that lasted longer than I would have wanted in front of these people. I was not even sure the Cordelian ceremony included a kiss. Rian finally stepped away at the clearing of a throat next to us. I looked down, away from my uncle’s glare.

  “I hope the two of you never live to regret this day.” With that, he stepped between us and kept going until he exited the room.

  My father was next to approach. He looked genuinely happy for a change. Tears filled his eyes as he took both of my hands. This was the first time in a long time that I had not felt compelled to avert my eyes. “You look so much like your mother. This is exactly how I remembered our own wedding day. I hope you are one day blessed with her humbleness and sweet spirit.”

  Surely, he meant it as a compliment, but it had not felt like it. I was not my mother. I loved her, but I would never be exactly like her. Would I ever be good enough as I was?

  The rest of the day went by in a blur. I changed outfits to keep from ruining Mother’s dress. We ate supper, accepted gifts and congratulations from some of the servants, and then went for a late-night stroll. Rian had allowed me to enter our new chambers alone so I could ready for bed in privacy. It was a nice gesture, but it had left me with too much time to think about what was to come.

  I was sitting up in bed, dressed in my best satin pajamas and robe when he entered. My husband sat down on the opposite side of the bed with his back to me. I scanned his wide shoulders in fear. He was a much larger man than Brett. I should have snuffed the candle out before he entered the room and feigned sleep. Would that have stopped him? I doubted it. Brett had been a gentle lover. He had wooed me, coaxing my love for him a little at a time. I somehow knew this man was different.

  There was a thump coming from his side and then another as his boots hit the floor, his muscles bulging beneath his taut shirt with this small task. I placed my hand over my stomach as it clenched involuntarily.

  He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and then pulled it over his head. It landed on the floor with his shoes. Hopefully, he did not hear my intake of breath. I tried to control my breathing as my eyes drank in the sight of his bare back. The muscles that had only been hinted at before were now in plain sight. His skin seemed to ripple with each movement as the light reflected off the peaks and valleys. He had yet to look at me which gave boldness to my gazing.

  “You have a tattoo.” I had not meant to speak but the discovery was so unexpected. It should not have been surprising, considering the life he had described up until now. It was just that I had never seen one up close before and never on the body of a nobleman. But of course, I would not have known of its existence if he had not taken off his shirt. It could be more common than I believed.

  Rian turned and placed his hand on the bed between us, giving me a better view. His light brown eyes studied mine for a moment. There was a look of tenderness that was as unexpected as the tattoo. My gaze flicked back to his shoulder.

  “I got it during my service in the Rivanian army. They mark each of their soldiers with a unique code. See these numbers and letters at the bottom?”

  He ran his finger across the bottom of the tattoo. I had not noticed it before. It blended in with the rest of the design that covered the top half of his upper right arm and part of his shoulder. There was an elegant compass just above the code and a large bird peeked out above and around the edges of the compass.

  “Is that an eagle?” The symbol for Dermot was an eagle, and I was surprised to see it there.

  “It does look like it, but it was supposed to be the falcon of Gilvary. It was meant as a reminder that even though Rivania had marked me as one of their own, I still belonged to my homeland.”

  I could not resist reaching out and running my fingertips across the design to see if the artist’s needle had left behind a texture on his skin. The surface was smooth to the touch, but the muscle beneath the skin was solid and seemed to have tightened at my touch. He inhaled deeply, drawing my attention back to his face. I had to admit, he was much better looking than Brett.

  They were of similar height, but Brett was much thinner and without the muscular build that Rian possessed. Brett’s hair and eyes were as dark as my own. Rian’s hair and eyes were pale. They were both full of confidence, but the bold demeanor seemed more natural on Rian.

  He had been staring at my lips, but as I tilted my chin up, his gaze locked on
to mine. The tender look from before had been replaced with one of passion and desire. Unconsciously, I had leaned closer to him while inspecting his tattoo. I could feel his breath on my skin and was near enough to see the lighter golden flecks in his caramel-colored eyes.

  His large, calloused hand cupped the side of my face, while his thumb slid across the edge of my bottom lip. Rian leaned ever closer, his movements agonizingly slow. Surprisingly, I found myself wanting his kiss, wanting him and everything he had to offer. I took one last deep breath before reaching up to join my lips to his.

  I had been comparing him to my former lover, but in truth, Brett had never wakened my desire for physical contact like this man did. If I was being honest, I was still in love with that other man, but my husband lit a fire in me that had never been ignited before.

  The difference between the two experiences was remarkable. My one time with Brett was painful and had been over quickly. It had not been about the physical part of love with him—for me at least. On the other hand, Rian took his time. His gentleness made me feel cherished. The physical part may be the only thing I had to look forward to with this husband of mine, but for now it seemed enough.

  Thirteen

  Rian

  I had been present for both of my brothers’ weddings, but it was Reagan and Gwen’s ceremony that had me thinking of what my own would be like. In all of Kearnley, the man knelt before his bride. It was symbolic of the groom offering everything he was and everything he had at the feet of the woman he cherished above all others. Reagan said he had felt honored to be the one kneeling before Gwen. He said she could have had her pick of men, and she chose him.

  My own ceremony was a disappointment. I should never have trusted Adrika’s uncle. He did not like me, and the feeling was mutual. He actually expected me to call him Uncle. Even King Farris called him Brother. I insisted on calling him by his name— Galik Anhalt. No wonder he preferred something else.