Adrienne (14 page)

His skin tingled. He knew she felt it too.

In a husky voice, Adrienne said, “I’m not hurt and she convinced me to give in to the inevitable. You can take it at face value or we can go back to arguing. Up to you.” She lowered her hand with a slow smile.

Malik looked back at the glass. Whatever the reflection was, it had given him what he wanted. The price of which would reveal itself in time. For now, he held out his arm to Adrienne.

She put her hand on his arm and they walked out to face the worried people who waited in the hall.

* * *

Adrienne’s calm wore off quickly in the face of all the people present for the wedding. She had never seen the throne room before and her first impression of it wasn’t a good one—people filled every space.

She stood on the dais in front of twin thrones. Both high-backed chairs were polished wood with hand-carved serpents coiling around the frames. Adrienne wanted to sit down, but she and Malik had to stand for the ceremony. They faced the throng of people and Upala, the head of Ulan’s Mage Guild and the woman who would perform the ceremony.

Since Malik had told her the ceremony didn’t require her to speak, Adrienne let her mind wander. She focused on Upala’s amulet, a flat metal disc with a small, ruby-looking jewel in the middle of it. Her gaze followed every facet of the jewel and she wondered if it was merely a decoration of Upala’s station or an aid like the orbs. Malik’s implanted knowledge turned up no ready answers since he hadn’t attended the Mage Guild to learn how to use magicks.

Upala prompted Malik and Adrienne to lay their fingers on the jewel, then she bowed her head and murmured some words. A tiny silver cord snaked out of the amulet and slithered over Malik’s and Adrienne’s fingers. Adrienne found she wasn’t scared, since Malik wouldn’t let her do something dangerous.

The cord wound around Malik’s wrist, then Adrienne’s, and tightened. Once taut, the cord disappeared but a tugging sensation remained.

Upala lowered the amulet. Adrienne tried to lower her hand and found she couldn’t. She looked up at Malik.

He smiled and faced her. His manner indicated Adrienne should do the same. Upala moved down one step and to the side, removing a gold and silver dagger from her robes and holding it out to Malik. He grasped it and brought it up between himself and Adrienne.

Before Adrienne could ask what he planned to do with it, he stabbed her. With his hand directly beneath hers, Malik stabbed the dagger through the middle of their palms, pinning them together. The shock of the movement caused Adrienne to gasp.

She looked at their impaled hands and wanted to cry out, but there was nothing to cry out about. Sure, a dagger impaled her hand to Malik’s, but there was no pain. She bled and he bled, but the pain didn’t start. She looked back at Malik.

He said, “With a dagger blessed by Ulan Mage Guild Master Upala, I perform this blood spell. By deed, by magicks and by blood are we bound. None shall break this marriage, as our silver cord is now laced with crimson.” As Malik spoke, blood slid down the dagger from their impaled hands. The blood curved around the invisible silver cord, then disappeared.

Malik touched the hilt of the dagger. It faded and reappeared in Upala’s outstretched hand.

The wounds healed before Adrienne’s eyes. Or, rather, the wounds closed. The only remembrance was the tiny scar on the back of her hand. She immediately turned her hand over to see the matching scar—it wasn’t there. She saw the dagger go completely through her hand—hell, she felt it, too. But only the back of her hand had a scar.

Adrienne wasn’t given time to fret. Malik pulled her gently forward so they both faced the crowd below and held up their joined hands. “Your new queen.”

The resounding shouts of joy from inside and outside of the palace were near deafening compared to the silence attending the ceremony only moments before.

Adrienne would almost bet the entire kingdom cheered. She wanted to cover her ears but didn’t know if that would be seen as rude. She soon forgot the noise as Malik took her in his arms and kissed her.

This wasn’t the quick pressing of lips most people saved for weddings. No, this was a full-blown “I-would-rip-your-clothes-off-and-have-my-way-with-you-right-now-if-it-weren’t-for-all-these-people” kiss. Adrienne ignored the roaring crowd—whose cheers had only gotten stronger—as she responded to Malik. Her arms wound around his neck and she returned his kiss with the same urgency. He felt right, and she wanted to feel more of him.

She felt her clothes shift but didn’t pay any attention. She knew Malik wouldn’t strip her in front of all these people—at least she hoped he wouldn’t.

Adrienne leaned back to break the kiss but Malik followed her. She unwound her hands from his neck to push gently—and what she hoped was inconspicuously—on his chest. Sealing the marriage with a kiss was one thing. Sex in front of all these people was completely out of the question. She didn’t know if the people of Ulan wanted proof of her virginity, but she wouldn’t become an exhibitionist for their curiosity.

Malik back away from the kiss with a reluctant look but continued to hold her. Adrienne wondered if her eyes looked like his—dilated and full of passion. Her hands, still flat on his chest, felt the thundering of his heart. But she didn’t need to feel it to know he was aroused. His lust slid along her senses and made her skin feel too tight. She looked away from him before she allowed him to go further with his seduction.

Slowly, the noise of the crowd returned to her, and reality settled in little by little. Her clothes had changed. An iridescent gown that shimmered with every breath she took and every movement she made replaced her simple gown of white.

Something dangling in front of her eyes made Adrienne touch her forehead. A teardrop diamond suspended from a circlet adorned her brow. She hoped to pass a mirror soon so she could see her new outfit.

That was the shift she felt earlier while she kissed Malik. He hadn’t tried to undress her, he had changed their outfits. Malik’s outfit had changed to the same iridescent material, but his vest was a soft grey. His brow sported a circlet similar to Adrienne’s, but he had no annoying jewel to dangle just above his sight line. Instead the round blue jewel seemed to hold the two sides of the circlet together—it was utterly masculine, or Malik made it seem so.

Malik turned and said a few words to Upala while Adrienne stared out over the sea of faces. Her anxiety returned in cascades, but not the same as before. She was married to Malik. If his kiss was any indication, she would be getting to know him physically quite soon. She didn’t know him personally—a problem partially her fault because she had avoided him.

She didn’t know what to do. She wanted Malik to say something to her instead of words of ceremony. If this were an Earth ceremony, she and Malik would have walked back through the crowd to a private room to change for the reception. There, bridal party and parents would come to congratulate them and they could all relax away from the guests.

Adrienne wanted her mother. Hannah wouldn’t have enjoyed seeing her baby impaled, but she would be even more upset if she knew her daughter had married without her. Right then and there, Adrienne vowed to do everything she could to get to Earth so her parents knew she was okay—and to have a proper Earth wedding.

She didn’t know how she would do it. Malik said he wanted to make her happy but what if that didn’t involve taking her back to Earth? Beyond letting her parents and brothers know she was alive and well, she wanted Malik to meet her family. All her thoughts led her down a road of homesickness that made breathing hard.

Malik’s head jerked up as he sensed Adrienne’s rising depression. He excused himself to Upala. The Guild master nodded with a smile and started down the dais steps. Malik tightened his arms as his attention returned to Adrienne.

“May I sit down now?” she whispered.

Malik looked over the crowd, who still cheered. He didn’t care if leaving them was a faux pas. Returning to his bedroom would allow him to partake of Adrienne all the sooner.

He summoned an orb and opened a portal to his rooms. Once Adrienne stepped through, he followed and the portal closed behind them, effectively closing off the noise. The orb reshaped itself into its natural spherical state before it disappeared.

Malik watched Adrienne with concern. She sat on the edge of the bed with her head bowed and tears in her eyes. “Are you well, Adrienne?”

Had he scared her during the ceremony? He had explained about the dagger, but she might not have heard him since she’d insisted on ignoring his presence when he visited her. In hindsight, once she started being more responsive he should have explained it all again.

Adrienne shook her head. She eased sideways and lay on the bed with her eyes closed and her arms cushioning her head.

Malik came forward and brushed his fingers lightly over her cheek. “Will you be able to handle dinner?” he asked.

“I have no choice.”

“Yes, you do.” He waved his hand at the door and explained, “If you wish, the celebration can wait until tomorrow.” His eyes never left her face as he moved her hand from beneath her head and pressed a kiss against the scar. He hoped Adrienne would decide to skip the celebration feast so he could enjoy her body all the sooner.

“That makes no sense,” Adrienne countered. “You’re supposed to have the wedding dinner after the ceremony—directly after.”

“It is your right as queen to postpone the feast until next year, if you so choose. Everything is your right as queen.” Malik studied her features before coming to his own conclusion. “I will postpone the dinner.” His reasons were purely selfish but they would benefit Adrienne as well.

“No.”

“No?”

Adrienne stood away from the bed and Malik, then smoothed her dress. Running her hands along the silken material reminded her that she wanted to look in a mirror. She looked around and didn’t recognize anything. Malik hadn’t taken them to her rooms. This was a bedroom, but whose?

It had to be Malik’s. She had never seen his rooms before but nothing else made sense. His were bigger than hers—if that was possible. If the rooms got any bigger, she would need a golf cart to get from one end to the other.

Several large tapestries adorned the walls. Each depicted different scenes. The most intricate and detailed featured scantily clad dancing women in a field of pink. It straddled the line between art and the obscene. Adrienne knew it would be the first thing to go if Malik wanted to share the room.

The mirror, which was hard to miss, hung on the wall across from the bed and stretched from the floor to the high ceiling above. She headed for it and silently congratulated Malik for not following her like some duckling after its mother.

The first thought Adrienne had once she faced the mirror was that it didn’t need to be so big—grand for grand’s sake. The same could be said for Malik’s bed—and hers. No one needed a bed big enough for twenty people.

It seemed Malik had a flair for the overdone, like her outfit. The dress was exquisite and made of exactly what Adrienne wanted, something silky. But the neckline, which plunged between her breasts to stop right above her navel, left much to be desired. Like everything else Malik commissioned the seamstresses to make for her, the dress revealed too much for her sense of modesty.

It was too late to change, though. Everyone had already seen her. Overall, the dress flattered her figure and made her look more regal than she really felt, and the iridescent material gave the illusion of glowing.

She looked at Malik’s reflection and, with a steadying breath, she said, “I’m ready.”

Malik held out his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her in close and gave her another kiss. She prepared to fend him off, but Malik kept the kiss chaste, a simple pressing of lips.

He pulled back and led Adrienne to the door. She coached herself into staying calm since she wanted to escape the bedroom. Besides, the addition of more people wouldn’t make the reception much different from any other meal.

Adrienne gasped when Malik opened the door and their entire entourage stood on the other side. “How…” she asked, only to trail off with a shake of her head.

Mushira answered, “It is our duty to know where you are at all times, Majesty.”

She had a new title. Adrienne had just gotten used to being addressed as “princess” and “highness”.

She looked at everyone and they in turn looked at her. She gestured to the hall. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m starving.” She looked up at Malik. “Shall we?”

Malik smiled at her as he placed her hand on the crook of his arm.

Chapter Eleven

The crowd of nobles who witnessed the ceremony had made their way to the outer dining hall. Adrienne took a calming breath and raised her chin a notch. She was a queen now and would damn well act like it.

Moments after Malik settled Adrienne on her seat at the royal table, Mushira informed Adrienne this was a royal celebration, not just any normal dinner, and many of the kingdom’s people had made dishes as a present for the royal couple to sample. Adrienne looked at the long line of waiting people and knew she wouldn’t be able to eat that much.

Malik waved the procession into motion. The families accompanied the dish they made. One and all offered well-wishes on Adrienne’s long rule, while Adrienne and Malik sampled a spoonful of each dish once the food tasters approved it. Some dishes were better than others but Adrienne thanked the cooks for their consideration all the same.

She tried one dish despite her reservations about eating something that was still…swimming. The small fish, a little smaller than a sardine, swam in a bowl of boiling soup. It surprised Adrienne that the heat of the soup hadn’t killed it. She was reluctant to eat it, but did, and almost choked as she felt the fish swim down her throat. It took all her willpower not to puke it back up.

Mushira handed her a goblet of purple, sweet-tasting liquid and a piece of bread to take away the taste. She would have preferred something to take away the feeling of the fish squirming around in her stomach. Boiling water hadn’t killed it; would stomach acid?