Page 21 of Legacy of the Heirs (The Lost Kingdom Saga #2)

Caellum

S tupid. This is a stupid idea. Caellum paced outside the doors of Sadira’s chambers, rotating the velvet ring box in his jacket pocket. She never asked for a ring. She never wanted to get married. Caellum sighed, faced the door again, and raised his fist to knock. Sadira swung the door open.

“I thought I would relieve you of further contemplation after you passed for the fifteenth time,” Sadira sang.

He looked foolish as he stood at the door with his mouth half open.

The subtle light of the lanterns glowed behind her, framing her golden hair that fell down her back in curls.

Her cheeks flushed in a naturally endearing manner and matched the pink hue of her lips.

Her dress reminded Caellum of the day they first met; the palest of green chiffon cut into off-the-shoulder sleeves, effortlessly highlighting her lightly sun-kissed skin and the shimmer of her collarbones.

He could not stop his eyes from trailing further, mesmerised by the spattering of tiny white flowers gathering in fields at the bottom of her skirts.

He realised they were irises, the flowers now blooming in the walled garden.

Had she made the dress herself? It would not surprise him; she was creative and skilled enough. Smiling, Caellum shook his head.

“Is it okay? Is it too much? After the other day, you were so nice to me, and I could not stop thinking about the flowers. I wanted a symbol of something that was just, well, ours .” she rambled. He grasped Sadira’s hands and guided her back into her rooms.

“It is perfect,” he said softly.

Sadira cocked her head. “Then, why did you shake your head?” She rubbed her arm as he released her hands.

“Because”—Caellum reached into his pocket and pulled out the green velvet box. Flicking the gold clasp, he opened it to face her—“I had the same thought.” Sadira covered her gasp with her hands; her eyes watered, and nose twitched. “It is beautiful,” she breathed.

“May I?” he asked, pulling the ring from the box.

Sadira nodded. Her hands felt dainty in his as he slid the gold ring onto her finger.

The opal stone matched the white flowers on her gown, and the three claws encasing the gem were shaped like irises as a reminder of their day in the garden.

The place no longer reminded him of heartbreak but was a symbol of new beginnings, just as Sadira had explained.

“Why are you crying?” he whispered, brushing a tear from her face as she examined the ring.

“Because I do not deserve this,” she said. Caellum frowned and stepped closer. He cupped Sadira’s face, urging her to look at him. She clasped his wrists.

“Do not say that.”

“But it is true. I wanted to believe I was sent here to ease the tensions in Garridon and that perhaps, at a stretch, you may wish to step down from your role if the people favoured Soren.” Caellum waited patiently for her to finish while knowing there was no bone in Sadira’s body capable of betrayal.

“But I fear Soren will stop at nothing, Caellum.” Sadira looked straight into his soul.

“I fear she will try to kill you, and I cannot—” Sadira’s face crumpled, and more tears fell.

“I cannot lose someone else.” Caellum pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her.

“You will not lose me, Sadira.” He breathed in the scent of her hair: morning dew, roses, and sugar. “We are in this together.” When he pulled back, Sadira’s green eyes glowed faintly in the dimmed light as flowers crept into his vision on the wall above the fireplace. “Until death do us part.”

“It is the death that I fear. ”

“Then we must make it impossible for her to hurt us. We need to be perceived as the strongest rulers for Garridon, so she knows any move against the crown would lose the will of the people.”

“I fear she does not care for the people.”

“She will have to. The people will turn to their ruler should the creatures return.” Caellum trailed his hand down Sadira’s arm until intertwining his fingers in hers.

“She is but one of the weeds surrounding us that I promised we would blossom amongst.” Sadira smiled at the reminder of his words when they first visited the city together.

“If we are to help the people and defend ourselves not only against Soren, but external threats, there is something I would like to do.” Sadira said.

“Anything. I will give you anything.” The smell of the blooming flowers trickled closer as they began to carpet the floor.

“I wish to learn more about my heritage. The Wiccan,” she said, and he nodded. “Perhaps there is something extra I can use against her, or maybe something exists in our history that might offer a different way to defeat the creatures. We must prepare for any threat.”

“Where shall we start?” he asked. Her brow knitted together, while Caellum traced circles on her hand.

“I must speak to someone old in Garridon—a healer, perhaps.”

“I will ask Sir Cain to gather some information. I will journey wherever we need to to get you answers,” he said.

“Thank you,” she whispered. The two stood before one another in a field of white flowers. Caellum did not wish to join the others. He yearned to stand like this with Sadira for hours. Yet, they had to leave if they were to show a united front against Soren.

“Are you ready?” he asked. Sadira took a deep breath and nodded.

** *

“King Caellum of Garridon, and his betrothed, Princess Sadira of Doltas Island,” called Orrick, the royal herald.

His voice was deafening as Caellum guided Sadira from the corridor to the top of the stairs, descending into the hall.

He gulped when he took in the number of people filling the room.

Though this would be normal to most rulers, Caellum still felt uneasy in the spotlight.

He thought back to the last time he was presented to his people, only to be escorted out with mud on his face.

Elisara was always a natural at royal functions.

Caellum hoped she did not feel out of place at this one, an event that was once destined to be theirs.

The room sparkled. Hundreds of candles reflected off the glass walls and ceiling, adding to the stars aglow outside.

The surrounding vines and flowers were symbolic of Sadira’s grace and beauty, the room proving to be a true representation of her and all she was.

“Wow,” he breathed, taking in the hall. “You did all this?” Sadira’s grin struck him with warmth.

“With some help from the servants,” she said modestly.

Caellum lifted his hand, and together, they descended the stairs.

Revellers gazed up at her with adoring smiles.

Sadira truly glowed as he guided her around the rows of long tables until reaching the one at the head, raised on a dais.

He acknowledged Nyzaia first, who returned a tight smile.

Larelle helped her daughter to hold her cutlery correctly, yet grinned at Sadira as they approached.

His betrothed returned the warm smile, and Caellum was grateful she had heeded his advice.

He caught the eye of Vala’s commander next, standing to the side of the table.

He narrowed his eyes at Caellum, and the temperature in the room shifted before he refocused on his queen.

Elisara was the last person whose eyes met his as he reached the table.

He smiled through the awkwardness, but did not attempt to converse.

Her returning smile was brief before she glanced back at her commander.

Caellum pulled out Sadira’s chair beside Larelle before moving to take his own.

However, he did not sit. He waited for the last guest of the honoured table to take her place.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and remained standing until Soren sat.

She did not acknowledge him. Caellum peered out over the tables and the joyous faces of everyone present.

It was such a change to his last royal event.

He raised his goblet, clinking a fork against it.

“First, I must ask you to applaud my betrothed for how breathtaking she looks this evening,” he called to the crowds, glancing down to meet Sadira’s eyes.

A ripple of applause sounded through the room, echoing against the glass.

“It has been a tumultuous time for us all”—he gestured to the room— “We have faced tragedy, not just within our realm, but throughout our entire kingdom. We have lost loved ones and faced change.” He looked at Sadira again.

“But in the face of change and uncertainty is the promise of friendship, hope, and new beginnings.” Sadira reached up and squeezed his hand before he turned back to the room.

“I wish for you to see that promise reflected in our marriage: a union that brings stability and peace to our realm.” He glanced at Soren then, who played with a knife wedged into the table; she refused to meet anyone’s eye.

She sat at the end of the table alone, except for two of her wolves: a sable-coloured one curled at her feet and a large white beast who acted as a guard.

It growled, forcing Soren to glance up. She did little more than glare between the pair before patting the wolf’s head to settle her.

Sadira rose and looped her arm in his.

“It is our honour to rule this realm and stand beside our friends in Nerida, Keres, and Vala. Our marriage not only brings you unity, but it promises you a queen. As your king and queen, I promise we will protect you.” While the people knew nothing about the threats they faced, all four rulers did.

Sadira was cementing their place, not only among the people of Garridon, but their worth among the other royalty, ensuring that, together, they would offer their defence against any imposing threat.

Applause broke out again, and Larelle raised her glass.

“To the king and future queen of Garridon,” she called, and the room echoed the sentiment.