by D. R. Grady
“My only complaint is that few know, and can know. Vidar wants us to keep this quiet.”
“Yes, he would.” Stefana nodded. “There is trouble brewing, and he’s aware of it.”
Raene had also been aware, but she kept trying to convince herself otherwise. “What are you hearing from the neighboring countries?”
“They’re mustering their troops. None of them is aware you’re married, to an Aasguard, no less.”
“Imagine their surprise . . .”
“Vidar and Aern are an army in of themselves. If our warriors cooperate, which they better, then we’re prepared to meet any challenges.” Stefana’s teeth worried her bottom lip.
“Unless all the neighboring countries band together. Then it might get sticky.”
“Yes. If they’re smart enough to do so. There are a few kings who won’t join in, such as Oxland.” Stefana finished her coffee. “The thing is, there is only one king we know of who isn’t married. If they decide to force you to marry him—”
Raene shuddered. “Fortunately, Vidar’s presence in my life will prevent that.” A massive wave of relief left her a tad shaky.
“Surely they know you’re at least engaged?”
“I don’t know.” They both withdrew their portable crystals and perused the news content.
“Here it is. The new Queen of Montequirst chooses Aasguard warrior to be her king.” Stefana read the headline dramatically, then using normal tones, the accompanying article.
Raene studied the nuances of the article. “Do you believe other Aasguard warriors will protest Vidar’s marrying me?”
“It doesn’t matter if they do now. He’s already safely wed.”
“Marriages can be annulled.” Her insides chilled. She liked being married to Vidar. The ugly thought of not having him in her life made the hollowness threaten again.
Stefana patted her hand. “Raene, I don’t believe anyone can alter your married state now. Besides, Vidar is every bit as besotted as you, so he’s not going to appreciate being told he can’t have you.”
“I believe he’s looking forward to a new challenge, but he could give up being king at any moment.”
“Just as you’d be happy giving up being queen. Neither of you have entered this with fantasies about what it is going to entail. You’ve entered your new roles with common sense and a realistic view of the situation.”
“We have.” There was so much to be done. Yet this knowledge didn’t daunt as it had before. Due to Vidar and Stefana. “Thank you for taking this journey with me.”
“You’re welcome and thank you for bringing me along.”
They shared a smile before the teetering stacks of parchment that came with running a kingdom of this size forced them to their respective desks.
As she worked, Raene heard Vidar’s voice from time to time and it encouraged her to keep on.
Not daydreaming about him proved harder than she imagined. She also had to valiantly resist the urge to run to him every hour for a kiss.
Chapter 21
Two weeks later Vidar had only just left her bedchamber for his cavern rooms when a knock sounded at her door. This was the final morning here in her childhood bedchamber.
Staff members would move her things and Vidar’s to their completed suite down the hall. She and Vidar had inspected their new rooms yesterday, and were reassured the suite would be ready by the time they finished their formal wedding and coronations today. To be able to sleep in the same room, openly, with her husband was a blissful notion.
Now as Anneke and Stefana peeked around the door, Raene invited them in with a greeting. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. Today is your big day.” Stefana stepped into the room already dressed in her formal wear.
“I’m so excited for this to be over.”
“You just want to show off your new husband.”
Raene laughed. “I’ve been showing him off for the past two weeks. Just no one other than you two have been aware of it.”
“Your husband seems to know what he’s doing.” Anneke helped Raene don her wedding-coronation gown. It aligned with what she imagined for the combined ceremonies.
“I can’t believe we found this dress.” Stefana tugged at the skirt while Anneke guided it over Raene’s arms.
“I’m pleased with it.” A pale silvery color, the dress was adorned with ribbons in the same blue as their crest. Stefana’s gown matched in blue with silver ribbons. Both confections were simple but elegant.
“Where is your crown?” Stefana asked over her shoulder.
“It’s right in front of you on the dressing table.”
“I hope you didn’t leave it here all night?”
“My husband brought it with him.”
“No one in their right mind is going to try to steal anything with him in the room.” Stefana carried the crown to her.
Scooping Driies off the wall, Raene tightened the scabbard around her waist.
“You can’t wear that.” Anneke sounded scandalized.
Raene eyed the maid and then transferred her gaze to Stefana, who also looked horrified. “I’m not stepping foot outside of this chamber without Driies.”
Both women clamped their lips shut. Raene had no intention of entering whatever awaited them outside her bedchamber without her sword. Driies might mean the difference between life and death.
She and Vidar had continued training, and he had expressed pleasure at her progress. That meant she was also pleased with her progress. She was nowhere near master level, had barely scratched competent, in fact. Learning to fight took effort, but with the unrest in her land, she needed to do so.
Once Anneke finished pinning her hair in the curls Vidar admired and her crown nestled within them, Raene surveyed herself in the mirror. She passed her own inspection. The gown was certainly gorgeous and the crown added to the stateliness of her attire.
The gleaming sword at her hip complimented the look. In her opinion. Her companions continued to frown at Driies.
“You’re officially getting married today.” Stefana murmured this as they left Raene’s bedchamber.
“Yes. Although it’s not as daunting since we’re already married. Today is a celebration, for which I’m relieved.”
“You and Vidar did this right.” Stefana smoothed her skirt.
“Once we get through these ceremonies, we shall be able to live as a married couple. That’s all I long for.”
They traversed the hallways, heading for the cavern. She had breakfasted in her bedchamber. There hadn’t been an inclination to eat anywhere else this morning.
Once they entered the rocky passage that led to the cavern Vidar had presided over for so long, both dukes joined her. Several other important personages fell into step with them.
Heart beating eagerly, Raene prepared to enjoy the day. Their private ceremony had been special and personal. This ceremony was for the people, and it would make her and Vidar’s union official.
Larkswallow stopped them before the last turn. In front of them was a table piled with flowers. The larger bouquet was for the bride, while the other was for Stefana, her maid of honor. Aern had elected to stand with Vidar, which seemed appropriate.
Raene made certain to exact the promise he’d behave himself and keep to his smaller shape. Neither she nor Vidar expected him to keep his promise. At least it would be entertaining to see what antics Aern dreamed up.
“The dragon is going to behave, right?” Stefana stayed busy fretting over the details.
She sent her friend a speaking look.
Stefana groaned. “Of course not. A silly question. I apologize.”
“My wedding will be the most talked about spectacle for ages.”
“So true. For generations to come, I’m guessing.” But Stefana’s lips curved and her shoulders relaxed.
Haines ushered Stefana into place. She stood at the bend, clutching her maid of honor bouquet behind the Duke of Larkswallow, who would perform b
oth ceremonies.
The Duke of Lockwillow offered his arm to Raene. As her only remaining family, Haines planned to escort her. And she didn’t doubt, protect her if need be.
Both dukes stood a little straighter with an air of alertness about them—they expected trouble.
They didn’t know Vidar well, or they’d not be so nervous. Actually, it was Aern they should be afraid of.
That black dragon was sure to cause a ruckus.
He’d like this business settled. Vidar resisted the urge to tuck a finger into his collar. The uncomfortable silver and blue cravat around his neck kept tickling his chin while the fitted jacket pulled at his shoulders.
Still, if women thought this looked nice, he’d endure it for his bride. Who he couldn’t wait to catch his first glimpse of. The cavern had filled with people throughout the last half hour. The space bustled with well dressed ladies and gentlemen, and a smattering of the rougher sort.
Aern tugged at the silver and blue bowtie around his neck. “Are you sure I have to wear this?”
“Remember Raene’s excitement when she brought it to you?”
“Yes.” Aern stopped yanking at the fabric. “She did like it.”
“It matches my cravat, which she also liked.”
Aern cut off a snicker. “I can’t say it becomes you.”
“It tickles, too.” He didn’t complain though. Raene wanted him to wear it, so he would.
“Is this what all men have to wear to their weddings?”
“Apparently so.” This was the only time he would marry. Dressing like a gentleman went against everything that made him a warrior. Hopefully none of their neighbors showed up today with bad intentions.
Then again, an enterprising man would manage to make a handy weapon out of his cravat.
The music started and everyone swung toward the entrance. The Duke of Larkswallow, attired much like him, only with accompanying robes, stepped into the stone chamber. He paced to where Vidar and a shrunken Aern waited.
Then Stefana entered, looking like a princess. She smiled at him and he was grateful Raene had such good friends. She also grinned at Aern, her lips twitching. “Your bowtie is gorgeous.”
Aern didn’t preen, but took the compliment as his due.
Vidar hid a snicker of his own. A beautiful woman complimented the dragon and he forgot all about his discomfort.
Much like he kept ignoring the choking cloth wrapped around his neck.
The music changed and Raene and Haines entered the chamber. They paused at the entrance before making their stately way toward him.
Her loveliness and happiness made his breath catch. As he smiled at her, he couldn’t help but admire a woman who strapped on a sword for her own wedding.
“Nice sword,” he murmured when Haines placed her hand in Vidar’s.
“Thank you. I knew you would approve.” She glanced at his. “Yours is still way bigger than mine.”
He tightened his hand around hers but Larkswallow cleared his throat and all murmuring ceased.
The man knew how to conduct a ceremony because he immediately launched into a description of why a man and a woman joined their lives together. He proceeded through the various technicalities with all the pomp and circumstance of royalty.
“Is there any who objects to this blessed union?” Larkswallow made it very evident with his tone he did not expect there to be trouble.
The row of warriors, who were not dressed in appropriate wedding garb, straightened. “Yes, we do.” One of their number, with slicked back blond hair, piped up.
Larkswallow cleared his throat and glared at the man. “What is this? The queen has chosen the man to be king. He exceeds all the requirements.”
“He’s only marrying her because he’s a guard, and wants her wealth.” A warrior at the very back stated this with a sullen expression.
“I don’t need her wealth.” Vidar didn’t bother to raise his voice.
“Of course you don’t need it, but you want it,” another warrior fired off.
Aern snorted, and nearly set Larkswallow’s fancy robes on fire. “Vidar the Loyal has lived for millenia. A man doesn’t live that long without acquiring a fortune of his own. His personal wealth exceeds Queen Raene’s.”
A few of the warriors took a sudden interest in their booted feet, but a bolder one pinned Vidar with a look. “Is this true?”
“It is. Aasguard warriors are trained in the art of finance as well as battle. Add to that my years, and I have more than enough to provide Raene with anything she desires.”
“We have already established that an Aasguard warrior is the perfect husband for our queen.” Larkswallow’s eyes blazed at the protesting men. “Not one of you is superior to him.” The stooped but fierce duke jabbed a finger in Vidar’s direction. “In addition, Aasguard warriors hail from royal bloodlines.”
Raene cleared her throat. “Let it be known I will not take any of you to husband.” Her ringing tone indicated she would rather die.
“You’re supposed to choose from the warriors in the land.” The slicked blond’s jaw tightened.
“I have.” Raene accompanied her refute with an imperially raised eyebrow.
Dull color splashed the man’s cheeks.
Another stirred. “No one has ever dipped into the Aasguard realm. We think it’s better for you to choose a man among our ranks.”
Vidar had conducted one conversation with the man who spoke. He well remembered the man’s garlic and onion breath.
“My duty is to choose the best warrior. I have done so.” Raene’s shoulders squared. “It is within my right as the queen to put to death any who oppose me.” Her power blasted through the cavern, a match for his.
Aern straightened, growing a size larger, as though he forgot himself. “Your queen has chosen her mate. You, as her subjects will respect her choice, understanding Vidar the Loyal is the best king to ever grace the Montequirst lands.”
“I have made my choice. Vidar the Loyal is my husband, and your king.”
“I protest.” Kjell stepped forward, hanging onto his righteous indignation. His shoulders straight, chest thrown out, hand at his sword. “This is an abomination. The queen should take a husband among the warriors born in her country. That is what the rules state.”
“You spout this, despite the fact that the husband I have chosen has been here, protecting the royal treasures, for longer than many of you have been alive?” Raene’s voice went taut as her nerves stretched. She detected minimal give there, with her patience fraying fast.
The urge to lop off these protesters heads’ expanded. Although imparting a death sentence this early on in her reign likely showed poor judgment. She could practically hear her mother cautioning her against such action.
Kjell’s eyes darted to a small contingent of men who stood with him. “The previous queens have always taken a man to husband from the ranks of the nation. Not some warrior we know little about.” His gaze cut into Vidar. Whose quiet patience aided hers from unraveling.
Raene took a deep breath. “According to the rules of the land, I am to take as my husband the greatest warrior in the land. By my calculations, Vidar is equivalent to our three strongest, bravest warriors.”
A snort, infused with fire, greeted her statement. “He’s more powerful than three of these warriors.” Aern’s pronunciation of warrior made this distinction sound questionable.
“He’s not one of us. She needs to marry one of us.” Kjell’s sniff said more than his words.
The hairs on the back of Raene’s neck stirred. “Are you inferring that I chose wrong?” Her voice sank an octave, and was powered by her rank.
“We don’t think you should marry a man who isn’t from Montequirst.” Another warrior stepped forward.
“Not him.” Kjell used his slicked head to indicate Vidar.
“Allow me to demonstrate why she chose wisely.” Aern stepped forward. The dragon blew on Kjell. The warrior didn’t have time to object, so
quick was the dragonfyre to consume him.
Screams and shrieks rounded the cavern. “That’s what happens when I fyre a human. This is what happens to an Aasguard warrior.”
“Aern, this is my wedding—” Vidar leaped out of the way, but not before the dragonfyre burst around him. With a resigned air, Vidar grabbed a nearby bucket of water and doused the flames, glaring at his friend. “Now I’m charred. And wet.”
Raene handed off her flowers to Stefana and reached for several towels. She helped pat Vidar dry, giggling a little. Their eyes met. “This will be a story to tell our children and grandchildren.”
“What are we supposed to tell them?” Vidar helped her sop moisture from his finery.
“That Aern tried to set you on fire on our wedding day to prove a point.” Her hands stopped as their eyes ensnared. “Today is our wedding day.”
“If any of you believe you can resist dragonfyre as Vidar clearly can, by all means, step forward.” Aern swelled again, his green eyes blazing. “You can be king if you can withstand my heat.”
“Aernie, you’re so funny.” A new voice entered the discussion.
Everyone spun toward the back of the congregation where more gasps resounded along with the hasty shuffling of feet. A petite green dragon stood with a warrior who probably topped Vidar in height.
“Are we too late for the wedding?” The warrior asked, his eyes homing in on Vidar. He was tall, broad, and dark haired like Vidar. His eyes more an icy blue than Vidar’s silver. The man was handsome in the same solid way as Vidar.
But then Raene freely admitted to her partiality for Aasguard warriors. This one dressed in the manner of all fighters, with a gleaming sword, also much larger than hers, at the ready.
“Lajos?” Vidar gathered her into his arms and strode through the crowd to the tall man at the back.
Behind them Aern uttered in a faint voice, “Fricassa?” Hope resonated there.
“Hi Aernie. Did you miss me?” The female’s voice was husky and tinged with affection.
“Of course I did. We didn’t know if you had survived when Atlas collapsed.” Aern shrank before clomping through the crowd. The congregation offered him wide berth.