SEVEN
Heartfire came and went. This year, she and Zorion lit the lantern above his bed, and thanks to the new night nurse, Maite, they spent the night uninterrupted. The weeks passed. Izar was the first to sit up on her own, but the other two children followed soon after. They began to babble nonsensical sounds at each other, which were amusing to everyone, and it kept them happy. Preparations for the wedding rose to a fever pitch, and then the day arrived.
Alaia woke to Zorion’s lips on her cheek. The rosy fingers of dawn were just caressing the horizon, and it was time to start preparations. It was less difficult to bid him farewell than on other mornings, since she knew she’d be seeing him soon enough. She nursed the children just as they were waking, and then handed them off to Galena and Maite.
Though both Alaia and Zorion would have liked to have the children at the wedding, as they felt the time to hide their existence has passed, Itzal had convinced them that it was too difficult and dangerous to keep three infants safe amidst such a crowd.
So, Galena and Maite would stay with them, and Zorion’s guards would block off the whole floor. There were no secret passages into the bedroom, so they were as safe as they could be. Alaia kissed each of their cheeks, receiving cooing burbles in return, and went into the bathroom to start preparing. Maude had filled her bathwater with lavender and rose hips, and she hummed as she washed Alaia’s hair. If she hadn’t been so keyed up with anticipation, she might have been soothed right back to sleep.
“Are you nervous, my lady? I was so fretful on my wedding day that I couldn’t eat and I nearly dropped my bouquet,” Maude said, chuckling at the remembrance.
“Not about being married,” Alaia said with a smile. “I couldn’t have hoped for a better man than Zorion, and it won’t change much about our daily lives right away. But I am nervous about being in front of all those unfamiliar people. I don’t know anything about being a princess, or a queen. I’m afraid of what comes next, fighting the king to take back the throne. What if something happens to Zorion?”
Maude patted her head like a child. “Battles are hardest for those of us left at home. But you’ll just have to trust in him. He may not think to say so, but I know he depends on your support.”
There hadn’t been much time for conversation between them lately, but Alaia did not doubt his feelings, and she knew that he’d been working hard to build up his draconic abilities. But he was just one man. The moment he made his opposition to King Imanol a public matter, she knew the king would show no mercy. Still, there was no point thinking about it now. Water poured over her head as Maude rinsed her hair, and she imagined it washing all her fears away. Today was a day for celebration.
After the bath, it was time for the dressing, and then Lorea came to help Maude fix her hair into an elaborate braided updo. Alaia didn’t have much to do during this process except stay as still as possible and hold a few pins in place. There was a knock on the door, and she was so glad for the reprieve that she called for them to come in without thinking.
Zorion opened the door slowly, but as soon as Lorea saw his face, she yelled and threw a slipper at his head. He barely managed to duck out of the way in time. “Get out! You aren’t supposed to see the dress before the ceremony. It’s bad luck!”
“I came to see my children,” he said, shielding his eyes, “since I won’t be able to later.” Alaia couldn’t help but laugh at his aggrieved expression.
“Go on then,” Lorea said grumpily, and he went to the other side of the room where Galena and Maite were watching over the triplets as they played with carved wooden animals and made attempts to scoot around on the rug. Alaia smiled as she listened to Zorion speaking to the children in a sing-song voice. “You two really are smitten,” his sister said, sighing. “I’m a bit jealous.”
“Your time will come, young lady. I think you’re a bit young to be worrying about it,” Maude said, pursing her lips.
“I’ll be sixteen in the fall. That’s old enough to take part in Heartfire,” Lorea said, indignant. Alaia chuckled, remembering herself four years ago, how eager she’d been to paint her first lantern. Though she’d been disappointed then, she was now obviously content with how things had turned out.
She couldn’t help but think that if she’d met Zorion at such a young age, things would have been much more difficult. She had changed and grown quite a bit since the age of sixteen, and she didn’t doubt he was the same. They really ought to change the rules, let the ceremony wait until the participants were a bit older.
Maude patted her hair to check that it was properly pinned and finally pronounced it finished. Alaia sighed with relief, and with perfect timing, Zorion appeared, his hand covering his face. “I don’t suppose one of you ladies would care to escort me to the door so that I don’t injure myself.”
“I’ll do it,” Alaia said, moving quickly to take his arm. “It certainly wouldn’t bode well for the groom to bash his face in on his wedding day.”
“Very true,” Zorion said. “But you have no idea what a trial this is to my willpower, knowing you’re right here and not being allowed to look.”
“You’ll see soon enough,” she said, and she brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. He drew in a breath, and she smiled and placed his hand on the doorknob. “You’d better go get ready yourself.” He wrinkled his nose, and she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
“I suppose I’m not allowed to touch you either, lest I disarrange your outfit,” he groused, catching after her hand and squeezing her fingers.
“You’ll have to save that for later,” she said, whispering against his skin. He flushed. “Now go on.” He departed reluctantly, and Lorea clapped her hands together.
“Now it’s time for my favorite part: cosmetics!” Alaia groaned, but she went back to the stool and sat down.
*************************
The sun was a red coin balanced on the rim of the world when Alaia finally made her way down the stairs, with Lorea and Maude at her sides. Her silk and taffeta gown was deep green with gold accents, which suited her fair skin as well as being the colors of the royal family, and she was holding a bouquet of honeysuckle and forget-me-nots, which Lorea had chosen for symbolic reasons that Alaia couldn’t remember. She took deep, slow breaths as they approached the doors to the Great Hall, where the ceremony would be taking place.
The staff had been working diligently for the past few weeks, and even she was surprised to see how different the house looked with the windows open, the rugs washed, and the dust swept away. Half the house was still uninhabitable, but the parts that could be seen showed how beautiful it had been before it fell into disrepair.
Also, looking around was a good distraction from her nervousness. The doors seemed enormous and both strangely distant and far too close. She could already hear the hum of conversation and faint threads of music in the room beyond, and her heart was pounding.
“Alaia?” She blinked when she heard the voice because it couldn’t be who it sounded like, but there they were, at the bottom of the stairs. She nearly tripped over her own feet hurrying down the last steps.
“Mother! Father! How did you… When did you get here? You didn’t say anything in your last letter.” Her parents embraced her, careful not to disturb her outfit.
“Zorion wanted to surprise you,” her father said. “He knew you would never ask us to make such a long journey, especially when there’s a chance of danger, but of course we wanted to see our daughter’s wedding. The prince had his spymaster set everything up. We rode in the supply wagon to the temple and then came here with Osane and her retinue, just to be safe.”
Alaia laughed to keep herself from crying. “It’s such a wonderful surprise.”
“Esti is here too,” her mother said. “Her husband and parents are taking care of Haizea and looking after the house and shop. But look at you! I hardly recognize you in your gown. You’ve grown into such an elegant woman, so quickly,” she said with tears standing on her cheeks.
“I don’t feel like an elegant lady,” Alaia said, pursing her lips. “But don’t cry, Mother. I’m sure they’re waiting for us. You can go in with Lorea and Maude.”
Lorea sketched a little curtsy. “I’m Zorion’s sister, and Maude is our Chief Housekeeper. Of course, you’re welcome to come with us.”
“And it will be my honor to escort the bride,” Alaia’s father said. She felt as if her face would break from smiling so much as she offered her elbow to her father. He knocked on the doors, and they opened, music swelling out like a wave to envelop them and pull them forward. Everyone in the hall turned to look at them, at her, the prince’s mysterious bride, but her eyes went straight to Zorion.
He was dressed in the full royal regalia, green and gold silk with a red velvet cape on his shoulders and jewel-encrusted sword at his hip. His hair was tied at the base of his neck and a heavy golden crown was on his head. Alaia thought he looked older and wiser, like he’d matured overnight, but his warm golden eyes were still the same, and they were fixed on her like a compass needle to north.
He smiled, not in a way one smiled at a room full of nobility, but a smile that was for her alone. It gave her courage, and she held her head high as they strode down the center of the hall along a narrow red and gold carpet strewn with blossoms.
Her father placed her hand into Zorion’s, and he squeezed her fingers. “I didn’t think you could become any more beautiful,” he whispered, “but as always, you exceed my expectations.”
“You’re looking rather handsome today as well,” she whispered back.
“Save that for later, you two. We’ve got a ceremony to put on,” Osane said with a wide smile. Then she opened her arms and the music faded. “Welcome friends. We are gathered here today to celebrate an event many of us thought we would never see.
Our young prince, Zorion, has become a man, and now he will wed Alaia, the woman the gods led him to on Heartfire, the first of the royal family to follow the old ways in many, many years.
It is my pleasure to unite these two, as I have seen with my own eyes the strength of their bond. Let this marriage be the start of a new beginning for our beleaguered kingdom.” There was some scattered clapping and murmurs, followed by shushing noises.
“Now, we will call upon the gods to be present in this place,” Osane continued. The other priestesses came forward and gave the offerings as everyone in the hall sang along with hymns to Ehki and Mari. When the last note of music fell away, Osane came back to where Alaia and Zorion stood. “The time has come to hear the vows. Prince Zorion?”
He swallowed, but he took both of Alaia’s hands and met her gaze steadily. “Alaia, as your husband, I swear to love and honor you, to respect you and be faithful to you, to protect and provide for you and our family, no matter what trials we may face, this day and every day thereafter, as long as we both are living.” His voice was rough with emotion, and Alaia almost had to wipe a tear from her eye before she could say her vows, which were nearly the same as his.
Osane smiled at them and brought forward a wide green ribbon. “This represents all that binds you together, your oaths and your love. When your hands are tied together, your hearts will be bound for all time. Is this your wish?”
“It is,” Alaia said, and Zorion’s voice echoed her own. Osane took their clasped hands and started to wind the fabric around them.
“Let the gods, the ancestors, and all here gathered witness the binding of these two souls. May there always be food at your table, fire in your hearth, and love in your hearts. May you be surrounded by the laughter of family, the support of your community, and the blessings of the gods.” She tied an elaborate knot on the top and smiled. “Now let all the world see your love.” They looked at her for a long moment; they hadn’t practiced this part of the ceremony. “That means you should kiss.”
Zorion blinked, and then he smiled. His free hand moved up to cup Alaia’s cheek. His lips met hers softly, and she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, to pour all that she was feeling into it. The spectators cheered and clapped, and when they pulled away, Zorion’s cheeks were flushed with color, but his eyes were shining with laughter.
“Come out to the lawn for refreshments,” Lorea called, and the guests started to filter from the room. Servants were already clearing away the chairs and benches to make way for the wedding feast.
Zorion pulled her close, and she smiled up at him. “That wasn’t nearly as terrifying as I thought it would be,” she said, and he laughed as he kissed her cheek.
“Shall we go up and check on the children?” he murmured against her ear. She nodded. Even though she’d had Galena’s help for weeks, she’d never spent the day truly away from them before, and it felt strange. It was difficult not to worry.
“Oh, can we come with you?” Alaia’s mother asked, as they started to sidle out of the room. Alaia’s father and Esti stood beside her with eager expressions on their faces. Alaia and Zorion glanced at each other and nodded.
“This is a beautiful house, if a little unconventional,” Esti said as they went up the stairs. “I was a little surprised when we pulled into the graveyard.”
“Beggar princes can’t be choosers,” Zorion said with a half-smile. “But even I was surprised by how nice it looked when we stopped trying to look unimportant.” They reached the bedroom and the two guards at the door stood straighter.
“There have been no disturbances,” one of them said, an older man with a graying beard.
“Thank you, Markel. You know Alaia, of course, and these people are her family. We just want to say hello to the triplets.”
“Of course, your grace.” The children were awake, luckily, and they had smiles for everyone. Zorion and Alaia hugged and kissed each of them and spoke briefly with Maite and Galena, but then they hung back to let the others have some time to get reacquainted.
“Thank you, for bringing them here,” Alaia said softly, leaning her head against Zorion’s shoulder. It was strange to think that he was her husband now, while at the same time seeming exactly the way things should be.
He turned and kissed her temple. “I’m glad I could do something for you, Alaia. I sometimes feel that I haven’t done a good job of courting you. A prince should be showering his lady in jewels, but I don’t think you’d want that, even if I could. But if there’s anything else I can do to make you happy, I hope you’ll let me know.”
“I’m happy now,” she said, smiling softly. “If you promise me you’ll stay safe through all that’s to come, I’ll be happier still.” He pressed his forehead into hers.
“I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you and the children as safe as I can as well. That’s all I can promise.” She nodded. There was no way to escape danger completely, not even by running away from the kingdom and all its problems. She would never ask Zorion to do that. The people needed him.
************************
Alaia shivered with tension as they made their way back down to the feast. Zorion squeezed the fingers of her still bound hand. “No one here is going to be analyzing your etiquette,” he murmured. “They are either friends of mine, and so already disposed to think of you kindly, or they are here as a courtesy, in which case they don’t care. Just be yourself. I assure you that you’re utterly charming,” he added with a smile, and she flushed. But having Zorion beside her did settle her nerves as they exchanged greetings with various nobles and dignitaries on their way to the head of the table.
Her parents were there, along with Lorea, Itzal and Osane, so she was able to relax enough to enjoy the meal. The menu itself had been planned mostly by Maude with Lorea and Alaia’s suggestions, and featured only the sorts of foods that were available in early spring. There were poached eggs on herbed bread with sharp goat cheese, wild game with mushrooms, and apple tarts decorated with edible flowers among many other delicacies.
Sweet wine and cider flowed freely, and an hour into the meal, many of the guests were well on their way to being extraordinarily drunk. Zorion and Alaia were considering taking their leave. Alaia wanted to nurse the children once before they went to sleep, partly to give Maite a break and partly because her breasts were full and starting to ache. And Zorion had some sort of secret plan that he had not yet divulged.
They endured a few more toasts, and then Zorion pulled Alaia to her feet, intending to thank their guests before escaping, but a commotion at the front of the hall made him frown. Itzal moved from the table, obviously intending to see what the problem was, but there was no need.
The crowd cleared almost as if they were fleeing, and perhaps they were, because into the hall came the last person Alaia ever hoped to see. King Imnaol was tall and broad of shoulder, but with an enormous gut, and he walked with a gold cane tipped with a ruby the size of a hen’s egg. He was wearing a richly embroidered jacket of red velvet and gold leaf and a cloak of pure sable. It was the most ostentatious display of wealth Alaia had ever seen.
“Dear cousin, you’ve certainly improved your dwelling since last I was here,” he said, in a tone that was teasing on the surface but laced with poison. “I thought you spent all your allowance on wine and low women.”
“Everyone has to grow up sometime, Your Majesty,” Zorion replied, his voice cold. His grip on Alaia’s hand was painfully tight and shaking.
“You have become a man in such a short while. Imagine my surprise when I received a wedding invitation. I didn’t even know you were courting. And what a lovely young lady your new wife is,” the king said, taking a step forward. “She’s quite beautiful for a village girl. At least you have better taste than your mother.”
Alaia drew in a sharp breath. If he knew that much about her, what else did he know? Meanwhile she could feel Zorion breathing deeply to steady himself.
“You shouldn’t speak so of the dead,” he said finally. “Did you come to join in our celebration?” The subtext was clear to Alaia: sit down, or leave, as this isn’t the place for a fight.
“I simply came to offer my congratulations, and to see if a certain rumor was true,” Imanol said, and then his gaze turned cunning. Now, Alaia sensed he would reveal his true purpose. “You see, someone told me, and I thought it couldn’t be true, that you already had children with this woman. But of course, that is ridiculous.”
The room went absolutely silent. Half the guests were in shock, and the other half, who already knew the truth, were looking at each other in suspicion or shaking in terrified anger. Alaia felt her knees go weak, but Zorion put his arm around her, offering support and reassurance all at once. She had no idea what he would say, but she trusted him.
“It’s true,” he said firmly, as if this had been his plan all along. He nodded to Itzal and Lorea, who disappeared through the rear door and up the stairs. “Alaia and I met last Heartfire and conceived three children that night. We’ve been keeping them out of the public eye, for obvious reasons. I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about my intentions.” What those intentions were was, of course, left up to the interpretation of the listener.
“Interesting,” Imanol said, though he didn’t seem at all surprised. “One might think you did not trust me, cousin.”
“My father trusted you,” Zorion replied. Some of the guests gasped at the barely veiled accusation, but then Itzal, Lorea, and Maude appeared, each holding an infant in their arms. The sound of murmuring voices grew as Zorion accepted Izar into his arms, and Alaia took Zuzen, who was beginning to fuss. Lorea kept a hold of Naia between them, since their hands were still tied together.
“These are my children, and Alaia’s: our daughters, Izar and Naia, and our son, Zuzen.” No one could fail to see the tenderness in Zorion’s gaze when he spoke their names.
“Charming,” the king said blandly. “Still, they’re only children. Many things could happen between now and when they reach maturity.” The two men, king and prince, glared daggers at each other, but it was Imanol who looked away first, letting out a light-hearted chuckle. “My curiosity has been satisfied. Enjoy your revelries, and perhaps I shall see you and your family at the palace soon.”
“Perhaps,” Zorion replied icily. “Good day, my liege.” The King turned and exited the hall without another word, his retinue scrambling to follow after him. Alaia watched Itzal and a group of inconspicuous figures follow after, probably to make sure he and all his lackeys actually left.
It felt like everyone in the hall let out a sigh of relief, and after a moment, a musician in the corner began to play and conversations began again, with a sort of fretful intensity. Zorion shook himself and handed Izar back to Maude after pressing a kiss to her forehead and receiving a toothless smile in return. “Send out another round of wine,” he said to the butler. “I think we’re all in need of something to steady our nerves.”