“If we ride hard, we should be able to reach the abbey in two hours.”

“We don’t have an extra horse.  She’ll have to ride with me.”

“That will slow us down.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Sir Branford looked over to me for the first time in several minutes.  He had barely acknowledged my existence since King Edgar and his entourage had left us here in the stables.  His companion—the knight with the red dragon on his breastplate—glanced at me often, but his look was not the same as the one Sir Branford bestowed upon me.  I felt certain the knight did not appreciate my presence though he had said nothing of the sort since his initial confrontation with Sir Branford.

My fiancé.

The words didn’t sound right in my head.  Though I was certainly of marrying age, I hadn’t given the idea a single thought in my life—not with any true meaning.  I had perhaps entertained a passing fancy when an attractive page or market seller caught my eye, but even that was rare.  I was too busy with my duties to consider such folly.  When Sir Branford looked at me, I felt a strange tingling sensation in my belly.  The sensation made me forget anything and everything that was going on around me.

“You must stay behind us,” Branford told the knight.  “We will have to ride too slowly, and I need to know we are not being followed.”

“Of course,” the knight responded, “though I don’t think he would be so bold.”

“I won’t chance it,” Sir Branford said, “not with my fiancée.”

“As you wish.”  The knight bowed his head slightly, giving me one last cursory glance before walking out of the stables, leaving me alone with Sir Branford.

“Come, Alexandra,” he said, gesturing back toward his horse.  “Have you been to Saint Anthony’s Abbey before?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good!” He smiled, which made his eyes light up for a moment.  With a quick tug from Sir Branford, the reins fell away from handle of the stall door.  A moment later, I was lifted into the saddle, my legs hanging off to one side.  He mounted the horse behind me and again wrapped his arm around my middle, holding me securely against his body.  “We’re going to ride quickly.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Have you ridden often?”  I could feel the warmth of his breath against my neck, and again I thought I could hear him inhaling deeply.

“No, my lord.”

“If you tire, please tell me.  If possible, we will take a short break.  Understood?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Though the horses walked out of the stables and down the short path to the castle gates, Sir Branford quickly brought his steed to canter as soon as we had left King Edgar’s abode behind.  I bounced around in the saddle uncomfortably even though his arm held me tight.  After a few minutes, he slowed and shifted forward in the saddle, lifting me slightly and placing me across his legs.

“Put your arms ‘round my neck,” he said quietly.  I felt my body tense slightly and blood rush to my face.

“Yes, my lord.” I responded so softly, I wasn’t sure if he even heard me.  I had to turn my body toward his to comply, and once I was more or less facing him, though still side-saddle, I reached up and placed my hands around the back of his neck.  As soon as I did, he called out to his steed, and we raced ahead.  Sitting in his lap as I was, my body moved with his, up and down in the same rhythm as the horse.  It was decidedly more comfortable, and in this manner, we reached the abbey without another word between us.

The priest at the door greeted Sir Branford warmly and smiled in my direction when Sir Branford informed him of our hurried nuptials.  Sir Branford introduced him as Father Charles, and while Sir Branford spoke to the priest, I tried to remind my legs how to walk again.  I had no idea simply sitting on a horse could leave one’s legs barely able to stand!  I carefully shifted back and forth, trying to stretch tired, sore muscles.  Perhaps I should have asked Sir Branford for a break after all.

“The nuns will care for you until mid-morning,” Sir Branford informed me.  “By then, servants should have arrived with your wedding dress, and they will help prepare you.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I will see you tomorrow eve in the chapel, Alexandra,” Sir Branford said quietly.  He reached out and took both my hands in his, produced a half smile that made my cheeks warm, and laughed softly through his nose.  “So lovely.”

I watched for a few moments as he rode back down the road in the direction from which we had come.  Dusk was upon us, and though I could not have been sure, I thought he met with another rider near the darkened horizon.

“Come, Alexandra,” Father Charles said.  “You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.”

“Yes, Father,” I replied.  I followed him inside and heard the gate shut behind me.  Throughout the rest of the evening, despite the meal I was fed and the bed I was given, all I could think of was the feeling of Sir Branford’s arm holding me tight and my arms wrapped around his strong neck.  I supposed I was in a state of shock from everything that had transpired since the tournament’s end, and it was thoughts of his touch that took me into a surprisingly restful slumber.

When I woke to the dim light of daybreak, the nuns informed me I had visitors.

Both Hadley and Edith had been allowed to leave Princess Whitney long enough to be brought to the abbey to help bathe me and adorn me in the most beautiful white dress I had ever seen.  It wasn’t overly fancy like a real lady or princess might have worn for her wedding, but I thought it was beautiful.  It was by far the most extravagant thing I had ever worn.  It was soft and covered in fine lace with a train flowing out in the back.  There was a sheer veil, which Hadley affixed to my hair and pulled down over my face.  When Hadley pulled a looking glass over, I could hardly believe it was me looking back in the mirror.  Edith also helped Hadley dress in a gold gown with black trim as my maiden of honor, the colors a tribute to Sir Branford’s banner.

Everything happened so fast, my head was still spinning when I found myself at the end of a long aisle, walking along a blue carpet toward the altar inside the chapel at Saint Anthony’s Abbey.  King Edgar was there beside Queen Margaret.  I also recognized Lords Maxton and Clifford and spied Princess Whitney’s other handmaids.  Princess Whitney was also in attendance, her dark eyes glaring at me.  She sat between her young sister, Hedda, and her older brother, Gage.  There were also perhaps six dozen lords and ladies of the kingdom in attendance, and they were all watching me as my cheeks flamed, and I looked down at my feet.  When I finally gathered enough courage to look up again, I could see Sir Branford Sterling, my soon-to-be husband, at the end of the aisle, standing next to the knight who had argued with him in the stable.

Since I had no living family, Father Charles held my arm and walked me down the aisle to the altar, where he placed my hand in Sir Branford’s before starting the ceremony.  My head was so full of confusion, I didn’t even hear Father Charles’s initial words, nor did I hear Sir Branford’s response.  Father Charles nodded at me, and I lowered my eyes to my satin shoes.  I had never worn such finery before this day, and being dressed in such amidst all these nobles was quite frightening.  I kept waiting for someone to realize who I was and tell me to leave the room.  I could feel the palms of my hands moisten with my nervousness, and I was sure Sir Branford would feel it as well.

Standing immobile, I was somewhat aware of Sir Branford repeating the vows of marriage as dictated by the scriptures of his God.  The words were not familiar to me though I echoed the priest’s words as he told me to do, hardly able to hear my own voice.

“Alexandra Fay”—Father Charles’s voice boomed, bringing me out of the near trance I had been in since yesterday afternoon—“do you take Sir Branford Sterling, son of Branford, Champion of the Golden Dragon, Champion of the Painted Arrow, Champion of Saint Anthony Arena, Champion of the Grand Tournament, Duke of Peaks, Lord of Sterling, nephew to King Camden of Silverhelm, and heir to the throne of Silverhelm, for your husband?”

My throat tightened, and I found I could not swallow nor find enough wind to speak the words I was supposed to recite.  All those titles!  I didn’t even know what most of them meant.  I had no titles and found myself wondering how I was going to be announced.  Handmaid to the Princess Whitney?  Sole survivor of the Fay household?  I heard King Edgar’s quiet scoff in my direction, and I forced some semblance of sound from my throat, questioning the words even as I spoke them.

“I will.”

“And will you, Sir Branford Sterling, son of Branford, Champion of the Golden Dragon, Champion of the Painted Arrow, Champion of Saint Anthony Arena, Champion of the Grand Tournament, Duke of Peaks, Lord of Sterling, nephew to King Camden of Silverhelm, and heir to the throne of Silverhelm, take Alexandra Fay to be your wife?”

Alexandra Fay.  Of course that is how I would be introduced, for I had no title to announce.

“I will,” he said simply.

I felt his hand grip mine ever so slightly, his thumb rubbing lightly over the back of my fingers before he reached for my left hand and brought it up.  He took a simple gold band from the man beside him and slipped it over the third finger of my left hand.

“In front of God and these witnesses, I pronounce you man and wife.  You may kiss the bride.”

Kiss?

Branford turned me toward him and reached for the front of the sheer veil covering my face.  He pulled the veil up and laid it over the top of my head, cascading the lace down my back.  His gaze met mine, and he cupped my cheek with his hand.  I could feel my heart racing in my chest, and I wondered if I would be the first bride to faint in front of the altar.  I only realized my teeth were biting into my lower lip when his thumb ran across my chin and pulled until my lower lip was released.  He gave me another half smile and leaned in slowly, pausing barely an inch away from my mouth and locking the gaze of his piercing green eyes with mine for a moment.  His eyes fluttered closed, and the warmth from his mouth covered my lips.

It was brief.  It was chaste.  And it completely took my breath away.

His fingers stroked my cheek, and I realized I was gawking up at him but couldn’t make myself stop.

“Be sure to breathe, Alexandra,” he said softly so only I would hear.

He took my hand again and turned us both to face the group of witnesses for a moment before linking my arm around his and walking me back down the aisle, out of the chapel, and into the fading sunlight.  It was then I noticed the glint of the sun in his ebony, silken hair, and panic overtook me again.

I had just married this man, and I hadn’t even known the color of his hair.

“Alexandra,” I heard him whisper near my ear, “are you well?”

“I’m fine, my lord,” I answered automatically.  I didn’t want him to know how afraid I was.

“You’re trembling,” he responded, obviously seeing through my thin façade.

“I might be a little nervous,” I said.  His soft laughter filled my ears.

“I believe that’s customary for brides.”  He reached for my face again and ran his thumb over my cheekbone.  He spoke to me softly and intently.  “Do not fear, my wife.  You will always be safe with me.”

Hadley appeared behind us, holding the arm of Sir Branford’s best man.

“Alexandra,” Sir Branford said, turning me to face the other couple, “I apologize for neglecting this earlier, but may I please introduce my distant cousin, Sir Parnell, son of Lord Sawyer, Champion of the Iron Horse Tournament, and betrothed of my sister, the Lady Ida of Sterling, Duchess of Peaks?”

Sir Parnell bent at the waist, and I felt heat cover my face that such a man would bow to me.

“Sir Parnell, may I introduce my wife, Alexandra.”

“I’m honored.” Sir Parnell spoke, and his gaze danced over to Sir Branford’s with a strange look before he righted himself.

Before they could exchange any other words, the lords and ladies of Hadebrand exited the chapel and congratulated us both.  Many of the ladies who had never bothered to make eye contact with me before gave me quick hugs and words of encouragement though in my nervousness, I didn’t manage to remember a word they said.

Sir Branford never let go of my hand and kept me close to his side as they all paraded by.  He pulled me even closer as King Edgar and Queen Margaret approached and stopped before us.

“Congratulations, Sir Branford,” King Edgar said gruffly.  He didn’t look toward me at all.  “I’m sure your new wife will be able to tend to your needs adequately.”

The way he sneered the word wife made me cringe, and I found myself stepping a little closer to Sir Branford’s side.  Though I assumed the king was angry over Sir Branford’s rejection of Princess Whitney, I had no idea what to think of his comment.  His tone made it clear he was insinuating something, but I didn’t know what it was.

“If I didn’t know better,” Sir Branford said, his voice cold and hard, “I’d think you intended your comment to be an insult.”

“Of course not,” King Edgar said quickly.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sir Branford replied with a smile that did not touch his eyes, “because if you insulted my wife, I would be bound by the laws of chivalry to retaliate.”

“I’m sure you misunderstood,” the King replied and walked away quickly.

“Branford!” Sir Parnell exclaimed.  “What are you…?”

“Silence!” Branford’s tone was harsh, but he quickly turned to me with a smile.  “I believe we’re due for a party, are we not?”

There was a grand carriage waiting for us, and it quickly filled with the wedding party, King Edgar’s family and another couple I didn’t recognize, but Branford introduced them as Duke William of Wynton, and his sister, Lady Susan.  I wondered if I needed to remember all of their names and realized I had been in too much of a stupor to have heard every introduction since the wedding.  While I tried not to show my unease, they all chatted amiably.  I shifted nervously, completely unaware of where we were going.  I assumed a reception, but I had no idea where it was to be held and was far too embarrassed to ask.  After a short ride, we came to another castle, one I had never seen before though it couldn’t have been too far from Hadebrand.

“Welcome to Sterling,” Sir Branford said.  “This was my home as a child though I live in Silverhelm now.  It seemed convenient enough for our celebration.”

The castle wasn’t as large as Hadebrand, but the high walls appeared sound enough.  As we approached, torches were lit to show us the way through the gatehouse and to the keep inside.  Sir Branford took my hand and assisted me from the carriage with Sir Parnell and Hadley following closely behind.  When I looked behind us, I could see all the other carriages unloading their passengers as well.  Sir Branford led me through the doors and down a long hallway, the walls covered in banners of black and gold.

The reception hall was decorated with yellow and white flowers and many representations of Sir Branford’s gold and black banner, much like the ones in the grand hallway.  A feast was laid out on one side of the room, and Sir Branford led me to the table in the very center of the room, sitting me in the middle next to him.  Hadley and Sir Parnell sat on either side of us.

“Ida is going to do you grave bodily injury when she finds out about this, you know,” Sir Parnell said, holding his glass up to clink against Sir Branford’s.  “I’ll go ahead and speak for her at this point and state that the food is barely adequate and the decorations are atrocious.  She would have done much better.”

“My sister would have been hard-pressed to come up with much more with the single day’s notice I allowed.”

“She would have still done it,” Sir Parnell replied.

“Undoubtedly,” Sir Branford said, agreeing with his cousin.

Being completely unaccustomed to these kinds of gatherings, I was terrified of doing something wrong and had resigned myself to not do anything unless Sir Branford commanded me. Dinner was the perfect example since I thought the “barely adequate” food was incredibly extravagant though nearly impossible to eat without getting something on my white dress.  I also thought the decorations were beautiful.  Sir Branford didn’t seem to mind and indulged himself while making small, quick glances in my direction every minute or so.  After a while, he tossed his knife to the table and turned to me.

“Come, my wife.” Sir Branford rose and reached for my hand.  “Dance with me.”

“My lord, please,” I said as he pulled me to the center of the hall and placed his right hand on my hip and took my right hand in his left.  “I have never danced.”

“It’s simple.” Sir Branford smiled down at me.  “Put your hand on my shoulder and trust in me.  If you put your trust in me, and allow me to lead you, we will flow together perfectly.  If you oppose me, we will likely stumble and fall.”

I had the feeling he was not just referring to dancing.  As the minstrels began to play a new song, I tried to do as he said and found when I relaxed and allowed him to move me as he desired, things did go remarkably smoothly.  When the music slowed and the crowd began to cheer, Sir Branford held me closer to his chest and brought the back of my hand up to his lips.  After our dance, Sir Parnell took Sir Branford’s place, and Sir Branford danced with Hadley.  Sir Parnell did not make eye contact with me as we danced, and I did not feel as sure on my feet as I had with Sir Branford.

“That was quick,” Sir Parnell said, his voice so quiet I did not believe he intended me to hear him at all.  When I looked in the direction of his gaze, I saw King Edgar and his family leaving the reception hall.  Sir Parnell’s gaze finally met mine, and I wished I could understand his expression.  “Thank you for the dance, Alexandra.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Sir Branford came to my side again, taking me from Sir Parnell.

“Did you see?” Sir Branford inquired, nodding his head toward the exit where King Edgar had recently departed.

“I did,” the knight responded.

“Did you check the guards?”

“They are loyal to King Camden,” Sir Parnell said.

“Good.”

Sir Branford led me back to the table where he quickly finished a glass of wine before pulling me back to the dance floor with him.  We stayed on the dance floor for some time, occasionally switching partners.  When another man danced with me, I felt unsteady, and once I nearly stumbled.  I managed to get through the evening without falling to the floor in my white dress and found myself relieved when Sir Branford took my hand again and informed me it was time for the last dance.

“You’ve held up well, my wife,” he said softly before twirling me one last time in a slow circle under his arm.  The minstrels stopped playing, and the crowd cheered for us again.  Branford smiled and waved, perfectly at ease as the center of attention, while I blushed and hoped I wasn’t doing anything wrong.  Many of the wedding guests came to us again, offering their congratulations and wishing us well.  Branford seemed to know each one by name and spoke eloquently to them all while I tried not to cower behind him.

“The reception was beautiful,” yet another lord commented to Sir Branford.

“I think it was splendid,” Sir Branford replied, “especially when you consider my eagerness to wed.”

The lord laughed and walked away.

“As splendid as it has been,” Sir Branford said, turning toward me, “I am tired of celebrating with the populace.  I think I would rather take you back to my chambers alone so we can complete our union.”

He tilted his head slightly, and his gaze burned intensely into mine.  He raised his eyebrows, and his half smile returned though I did not find it as joyous and carefree as it has appeared before.  Now it displayed something more primal, something…hungry.

My heart raced, and I found it difficult to take a deep breath.  I had been so overwhelmed by the wedding itself and the idea of marrying someone I did not know, I hadn’t even considered the expectations he would have of the wedding night.

Unlike the Princess Whitney, I was a virgin.  My first kiss had occurred not four hours ago, right after Sir Branford slipped the ring on my finger.  I knew what I was supposed to do.  At least, I thought I did.  Accounts of the act of marital relations were varied depending on who told the story though most seemed to agree it was for the benefit of the husband and for the creation of his heirs, not for pleasure of the wife.  If she were lucky, he would not hurt her much, and it would be over quickly.  A brand new panic permeated my head.

And that’s how my wedding celebration ended.