Sorrows of Adoration (23 page)

Kurit rose and drew his
sword. As a symbolic version of the fight between Kol and Daen, he
cut the ribbon that hung between the posts. There were those who
said the cutting of the ribbon also symbolized the cessation of the
bride’s maidenhood, but I tried not to think of that, lest I be
blushing ridiculously when he removed the veil.

He sheathed his sword
and took the few steps up the hill to where I stood. He stood
before me and reached around behind my head to unclasp the clip
that held the veil. It took him a moment, because he wasn’t paying
full attention to it, as he was too busy diverting himself by
giving me a roguish little wink and smile, knowing full well that I
could see him through the cloth.

When finally the veil
was unclasped and dropped, he took my hands and led me to step over
it and then stood to the side to allow the gathering to look upon
my dress. I heard the soft rush of excitement as they approved of
my appearance, and I could not help but smile at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he
said softly as he took my arm formally to lead me to Abbott Jhin,
who was to perform the religious portion of the wedding.

I admit that I heard
little of what the Abbott said. I was lost in Kurit’s gaze as we
faced each other, my hands in his. In fact, I became so lost in his
eyes that I almost missed it when the Abbott’s reading had ended.
Kurit gave my hand a little squeeze and looked to Jhin as he was to
proclaim us wed.

“And so, under the eyes
of the Gods,” continued the highest priest in Endren, “Prince Kurit
of Keshaerlan and Lady Aenna of Alesha agree to these laws of
sanctity and goodness, and in their marriage they shall continue
the lineage of Kol and Raeneh in justice and honour. Now, for the
first time as a married pair, I implore you, Prince Kurit and
Princess Aenna, to embrace and kiss, that you might demonstrate
your unwavering love to those gathered here.”

Kurit turned back to me
and smiled. I stepped towards him, and he slipped his arms around
my waist. I clasped my hands behind his neck as he lowered his head
to mine and kissed me.

A great cheer erupted
from those gathered as we kissed, and I expected it to prompt Kurit
to stop, but the rascal did not. The kiss lasted a good long time,
and he leaned me back so that I almost lay in his arms when finally
it ended. Breathless, I looked at him in wonder and delight as he
whispered, “Now our happy future begins.” He lifted me back upright
and held me tightly as we were surrounded by the gathering.

We stood in their
midst, beaming smiles on our faces, his arm snugly around my
shoulders, mine around his waist. Congratulations and good wishes
were given by most of those I had known, with the obvious
exceptions of Kasha, Sashken, and their small group of friends.
They stood off to one side, dark and brooding, and I didn’t care. I
felt the thrill of triumph and cared not for those who had
lost.

Jarik came to my side
and smiled, though I could tell in an instant it was a forced one.
He seemed distraught, so I beckoned him to lower his head so I
could whisper to him, “Don’t worry, Kasha was cruel but I don’t
care about her anymore. Kurit and I are married now, and there’s
nothing she can do to reverse that.”

He stood back to full
height and smiled again, but still it was pained—more so, it
seemed. I reached up and touched his cheek gently. “Honestly,
Jarik,” I said over the tumultuous noise of the well-wishers, “I’m
happy. I’m happier than I ever imagined I could be. Don’t fret for
me.”

That seemed to help,
and his smile became somewhat more genuine. He bowed his head to me
again, this time to softly kiss my cheek. “That is all that matters
to me, Aenna. Your happiness is all that matters,” he whispered so
quietly I almost could not hear it, though he said it right to my
ear.

“Shouldn’t you be off
to practice your defence strategy?” said Kurit to Jarik, seeming
loud following Jarik’s quiet words. “You’ll need it!” he teased,
and I ducked out of the way for Jarik’s inevitable retaliation. But
Jarik stood still, his eyes still on me as though he had not heard
Kurit speak. I felt a strange flutter in my heart as he looked at
me, the same odd, intense feeling I had experienced when our eyes
had locked in that dance lesson that seemed so long ago.

Then he broke the eye
contact and looked behind me at Kurit. “I shall win the tournament,
have no doubt,” he said in a flat, emotionless voice. “You just be
sure to care well for your new bride and treat her with the honour
and respect that she deserves.” Then he turned and strode quickly
away.

When I turned to Kurit,
I saw the oddest look on his face. “What was that about?” I
asked.

Kurit broke from his
apparent reverie and smiled benevolently at me. “Nothing. He’s just
in a strange mood today. Probably the pressure to win. Everyone
expects him to, you know.”

I shook my head. “No,
Kurit, he seems upset about something. I thought I knew what it
was, but now I’m not sure.”

“Don’t fret over that
overgrown brute,” Kurit jested. “He’ll go break a few bones and
bloody a few noses in the tournament, and then he’ll be fine.” Then
Kurit kissed me, and I decided to take his advice and ignore
Jarik’s broodishness.

We walked to the area
of the meadow where the tournament was to be held. Kurit escorted
me to my seat in the stands that had been built for the occasion.
Great wreaths of vines and flowers were wrapped around the pillars
that held up the roof. Their scent was sweet and fresh in the
summer air. I settled back into the soft chair in absolute
happiness.

Kurit excused himself
for a moment to go speak with someone. I sat quietly alone for some
time, watching the hopeful warriors prepare themselves and their
equipment. Jarik and Kurit had been furious two weeks before when
they had learned that several men who had been planning to compete
had unexpectedly cancelled without reason. Kurit suspected his
mother’s influence and stormed about for some time until I assured
them both that less carnage hardly offended me, and it didn’t
matter since we all knew who would win in the end. That had made
Jarik blush with pride—a truly adorable thing to behold—and had
eased Kurit’s anger sufficiently.

My quiet thoughts were
interrupted by a man who stood before me and introduced himself,
though I recognized him instantly without introduction.

“Good day to you,
Princess Aenna. I am Lord Cael of Alesha.”

It was the first time
that anyone had used my new title besides the Abbott, and despite
it I rose to curtsey, saying, “My Lord, I know you.”

He took my hand to
interrupt the curtsey and jovially said, “Your Highness, I am no
longer your Lord! You are my Princess!” He bowed to me instead, and
indicated that I should sit again. I did, and he took the seat
beside me. Though it had been several years since his visit to the
inn where I worked, he still looked the same. He had short
reddish-brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard of the same colour.
His eyes were friendly and bright, and the corners of them and his
mouth were creased from a lifetime of smiles, one of which was upon
his face at that moment.

“Don’t blush so at the
error, Your Highness. I can’t imagine what a challenge it must be
to adjust to such a change.” He patted my arm kindly. “I am
eminently proud to have an Aleshan wedded into the royal family!
It’s about time we brought back the northern wisdom and beauty to
these dark-haired folk,” he teased, and we both laughed.

“Thank you, Lord Cael.
Your support means a great deal to me,” I confessed.

“Oh, my support you
have indeed. I have heard great tales of your wisdom. Did you know
that the King told the entire Council about that ugly matter of
what happens to virtuous barmaids that you brought to the Prince’s
attention?”

I had actually
forgotten about that entire discussion, having been so busy with
other concerns. “No, I had not been told,” I said. “Please, what
was decided?”

“Well, there was a
great deal of concern about giving too much power to the King’s
Guard. That’s a very complicated issue, one which I’m sure you’ll
grow more aware of in time. It has to do with the fact that some
Lords don’t approve of the King having a hand in their affairs at
all, and others that are all too glad to have the King pay for
their bodyguards. But among those in the Council, it was agreed
that such abhorrent behaviour by noblemen cannot continue. Of
course, there were many voices of doubt that it even happened at
all, but King Tarken spoke at great length of your honour and
wisdom, and his respect carries a great deal of weight with the
council. It certainly does with me. He is not one to make light of
a serious issue, nor to overemphasize the trivial, and when he
brought his fist down on the table to silence those who questioned
your word, well, the lords listened.”

Brought his fist down on the table?
I thought. I was amazed that I had had
such an effect, when I had not even spoken with the King about the
matter. I wondered if Kurit had overplayed my words, or if King
Tarken really took me so seriously.

“In the end,” Lord Cael
continued, “it was decided that your suggestion to have the Guards
responsible first to their oath to uphold the law was a sound one,
even in matters other than the abuse of peasant women. A law was
passed to make the King’s Guards responsible to report any legal
wrongdoing by anyone, regardless of other oaths or loyalties.

“So you see, Your
Highness, though we have not met, I already have a great respect
for your wisdom. If you have impressed my King, you have impressed
me. And as an Aleshan, I hold you in even higher esteem. You may
count on my support in any matter, Highness. If ever you need an
advocate, know that I or my ambassador will gladly join your
side.”

I was speechless. To
have the guaranteed support of such a good man meant so much to me
that I could not express my appreciation to him adequately. “Thank
you,” I managed to say and then for some reason blurted out, “But
we have met, though you probably don’t recall it.”

“No, I don’t. Please,
refresh my memory.”

So like a fool I told
him of how he had been kind and generous so long ago, when I was
just a barmaid. But he did not find me foolish. He laughed
pleasantly and said, “I wish I recalled it better, Your Highness,
but I regret that I have stayed in so many inns in my travels that
they are all a blurred vision in my memory. And now here you are.
Truly, your story is a fascinating one.”

“I’m not sure if that’s
always a good thing,” I confessed.

“Fear not, Princess
Aenna—those who are obsessed with your roots will have their day
when they realize their folly in judging you harshly.” He patted my
arm again and said, “Here comes your Prince. I should vacate his
chair before I end up as part of the duelling.” He laughed.

“Is this vagabond
disturbing you, Aenna?” Kurit asked as he approached. They seemed
to know each other well.

“Not at all. Lord Cael
has been very kind and generous in his words of praise,” I replied,
trying to sound dignified when what I really felt was girlish
giddiness.

“Oh, has he? I’ve been
married less than a day, and already you’re trying to steal another
one away from me, are you?” Kurit said, puffing out his chest and
putting his hands on his hips in pretence of threat.

Lord Cael rolled his
eyes. “Here it comes again,” he muttered and then laughed
again.

“Don’t you take that
tone with me, you woman-stealing fiend,” Kurit teased, waving a
fist in jest.

The Aleshan Lord turned
to me with a mock look of tired frustration. “Your Highness, Prince
Kurit threatens me under the misguided belief that my wife, the
beautiful Lady Tyella, might once have loved him.”

I had not heard of this
before, and I admit I felt vaguely threatened. After all, Kurit had
told me repeatedly that he had loved no other. I looked at my
husband with confusion.

He caught my look and
ended the game. “Oh, Cael, we should stop. I don’t want to upset my
poor bride. Aenna, Tyella and I were close friends as children. She
moved to Staelorn from Endren when we were still young, and though
I did not see her again until years later, when she married Cael, I
teased him that he had stolen my love away. It has been a long-time
jest between us. So when he was sitting here with you, I naturally
had to come and tease that he was going to steal you away. Forgive
me—I should have known that you didn’t know the background to the
story.”

Lord Cael nodded and
said, “Forgive me as well, Your Highness. We are stupid boys
playing immature games. I hope we have not upset you.”

I smiled at them. “Is
my possessiveness that obvious?”

They seemed relieved
that I did not become upset. Each of them took one of my hands and
kissed it in a gentlemanly fashion. Then Kurit cast a sideways
glance to Cael, who still held my hand, and stepped quickly towards
him to bump him away. Cael stumbled, letting go of my hand
abruptly, but Kurit snatched it back up, holding both my hands as
he took his seat.

Cael regained his
balance and said, “You’re both possessive.” He laughed as he took
the seat beside Kurit for the tournament. He leaned forward to
catch my eye and said, “Princess Aenna, if you can ever escape this
mad fool for any length of time, I would be delighted if you would
visit us in Staelorn.”

I thanked him for the
invitation, and he sat back in his chair. Kurit leaned to me and
said quietly, “Honestly, Aenna, you’re the only one I’ve ever
loved. You do believe me, don’t you?”

I nodded at him. “I
should be used to your absurd silliness by now. I should have known
you were speaking in jest, but I did not know Lord Cael was like
you in that regard.”