Page 22 of Pawns of Fate

TWO WEEKS LATER

ROSE

R ose wasn’t sure that she and Ava would both fit into the carriage, but Lyla shoved Ava in somehow.

“These full skirts are going to be the death of me,” Ava wheezed.

Lyla found what little room was left in the carriage and sat down.

“Rose and I are going to look like clowns when we try to get out of here,” Ava whined. “In front of an entire temple full of people!”

“You’ll be fine, my lady,” Lyla replied calmly, patting her shoulder. “And Rose would never look like a clown, least of all in her wedding dress.”

Rose smiled to herself.

Once all three women were seated, the golden carriage, pulled by two white horses and now more filled with fabric than passengers, began its slow descent from Castle Sharp into Onanish Town.

Ava chatted away, perhaps more to ease her own nerves than Rose’s, but Rose couldn’t stop herself from staring out the window at the passing pine trees.

Her month with the Sharp family had passed by so quickly, and now, in only a matter of hours, she would be married to Nicholas instead of just engaged to him.

A thousand emotions were flitting around in her head and body, creating an emotional soup that blended all of them.

Rose couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was truly feeling on this auspicious day.

Occasionally, she could pick out nervousness.

Or anticipation. But there was also—and this one appeared frequently despite how closely her trip to the Ojoh was looming—happiness. It was truly a baffling mixture.

The carriage entered Onanish Town. Citizens lined the side of the road, cheering and waving. Colorful flags with the Sharp family’s lightning signet flew outside every shop and home. Rose could hardly believe it; she’d never seen citizens who loved their ruling family this much .

“Oh! How exciting!” Ava enthusiastically waved back at the crowds, who doubled their cheers.

Rose felt a tingling in her fingers and toes. She couldn’t bring herself to tear her gaze from her hands, which were folded demurely in her lap. She’d never had this much attention on her, and the wedding hadn’t started in earnest yet.

Lyla leaned over to whisper, “You don’t have to wave back if you don’t want to. It’s okay to be nervous. Doesn’t make you a bad lady.”

“Thank you,” Rose replied quietly. “I think you’ve given me the courage I needed.”

Lyla offered Rose a hint of a warm smile and a wink. “You’re going to do great today.”

Rose turned to wave at the crowds. The cheering, which had grown loud just from Ava’s attention, became almost deafening when Rose joined in.

The acclaims lasted all the way to the local temple, which lay a good distance into the forest surrounding Onanish Town.

It was a temple dedicated to the winter gods, unusual in the southern portion of Albion.

Most temples here served the spring and summer gods, but Onanish was a mountainous territory with a relatively temperate climate, apparently cool enough to appease winter spirits.

At the temple, the priests had gone out of their way to decorate the trees with soft mage lights and line the path to the temple with small, ivory flowers.

The wedding guests were already inside, so it was quiet enough to hear the babbling brook just beyond the rustic temple.

Rose had never dreamed of getting married in such a special place, so she couldn’t stop her heart from doing somersaults as she took everything in.

The door opened, and York walked over to help Ava out of the carriage. Lyla still had to push Ava through the carriage door. Rose watched Ava clutch tightly to York for balance; she hoped they’d change her into a smaller dress for the reception.

Her uncle came out of the temple shortly after they closed the doors behind York, Ava, and Lyla. Rose found it in her heart to give the man a genuine smile.

“Rose, how have you been?” Hector asked after she’d helped herself down from the carriage.

“I’ve been alright, Uncle.”

“Well, I’m proud of you, my girl.” Hector offered his arm as they made their way to the entrance. His words felt… odd. At one point in her life, she would have given anything to have heard them. But now, with Nicholas at the forefront of her mind, Rose barely noticed her uncle.

The temple doors swung open. Hector and Rose stepped through.

Mage lights floated above the seated crowd, making it look like a thousand fireflies were attending the wedding.

The delicate flowers she’d seen on the path decorated the end of every single pew and mixed with larger white flowers, lilies, and hydrangeas.

And at the front of the church stood a blue-haired priest clad in the snowy robes of winter and Nicholas—oh, Nicholas.

The instant Rose’s eyes met his, her nervousness evaporated. There was only warmth in its place. Maybe even love.

Her aura shone through momentarily as Hector walked her down the aisle. She was just so euphoric; this moment was so… full. She couldn’t help it. Nicholas’s smile broadened. Rose had taught him more about her magic over the past few weeks, so he understood that her aura came from a place of joy.

But a few people in the crowd gasped, and embarrassment quickly caused Rose to sever her tether to the aural plane.

Rose and her uncle reached the altar, and she turned to face Nicholas. He took her hands into his. They were warm—but not as warm as his smile.

The priest started the ceremony. He read a few verses from the ancient texts of the winter gods, then led the wedding guests in a song and, not one, but two prayers. Finally, it was time for the exchange of rings.

Rose and Nicholas clasped hands, and the priest recited the binding spell.

A glowing, silvery band appeared on the skin of Rose’s ring finger, and a pink one appeared on Nicholas’s, the result of a spell that swapped just a small amount of life force between two parties.

She’d heard that delicate gold bands appeared when somebody didn’t have magic to affect the essence of their life force, but since Nicholas was a lightning mage and she had her aural magic, their bands reflected that.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest announced as soon as the spell was complete. Nicholas pulled her in for a short, yet passionate kiss on the lips, and the crowd cheered.

Before they made their way down the aisle and back to the castle for the reception, he leaned over and whispered, “We’re married now, Lady Rose Sharp .” Then, quicker than his lightning magic, quick enough that nobody saw it, he gave her ear the tiniest nibble.

Her poor, tired heart managed to do a few more somersaults after that.

“Thank you for attending,” Nicholas said with a polite bow. “Rose, this is Duke Samson Talbot.”

Rose looked up at the tall, broad-shouldered fire mage as she completed her curtsey. He stood head and shoulders above Nicholas and looked a bit like a lion with his amber eyes and long, red hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

Duke Talbot offered the new couple a heartfelt smile and said, “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world!” He took Rose’s hand and kissed it in the traditional manner. “I’m honored to meet the newest lady of House Sharp.”

Several women, including her cousin Luanna, stared daggers at Rose. They were mentally begging her to invite them over to meet the duke. As lord of the entire Duchy of Kai, he was a most eligible bachelor, especially now that Nicholas was taken.

The band of musicians chose that moment to start a jaunty song, and Samson excused himself to continue enjoying the reception.

“Would you like to sit down? I feel like we’ve been greeting people for hours.” Nicholas gave Rose’s waist a small squeeze. “Or would you like to dance? ”

Rose looked around at the wedding guests who had flocked to the Sharp’s banquet hall, which the servants had decorated meticulously.

Massive white bouquets decorated every table, and the same small flowers from the temple path lined the stage where the musicians played.

Remnants of the sumptuous feast lingered on the tables, even as she watched maidservants and cooks alike working to clear away the leftovers.

It was more than she’d ever dreamed. It was also a little overwhelming.

But before Rose could tell Nicholas that she’d very much like to sit down for a few minutes, her Aunt Ghislaine and Uncle Hector interrupted.

“You couldn’t be bothered to send for your cousin while talking to Samson Talbot, I see,” her aunt said with more condescension than Rose remembered her usually having. Nicholas’s arm tightened around her waist.

Hector, in a rare show of social awareness and wisdom, stepped in quickly. “Lovely wedding! Lovely reception, too. I particularly enjoyed the bread rolls.” He patted his rounded stomach.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves, Auntie, Uncle,” Rose replied softly, deciding that it was better not to argue.

“Everything would have been perfect if you hadn’t lost control of your aura during the ceremony.” Ghislaine tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “I was so embarrassed for you, little Rose .”

“She’s Lady Rose Sharp. You will refer to her as such.” Nicholas stepped in between Rose and her aunt. “And her aura is a gift, not something to be embarrassed about. What’s embarrassing is how you two prevented her from mastering it.” Nicholas huffed.

Ghislaine’s eyes widened with shock. Rose felt something, yet another hard-to-decipher emotion—perhaps vindication—flicker in her chest.

Marquess Sharp stepped in, cutting the moment short. “Hector, Ghislaine, are you enjoying the party?”

Hector stumbled over a few words but finally squeaked, “Yes.”

“Good, good! We’re so happy to have Rose as one of us, now.” Though his tone was polite, the implications of Matthew’s words were clear, and they made the flicker in Rose’s chest grow into a warm flame.