Page 10

"Skye."

Someone shook my shoulder. I grumbled, intent on drifting back to the blissful sleep I'd been enjoying.

"I'm sorry, my love, you have to get up."

A sharp pain jabbed into my side, and my eyes snapped open. The afternoon sun flooded the bedroom, and it took a moment for Cyrus' face to materialize out of the sleepy blur.

"You pinched me!" I rubbed where his fingers had grabbed my skin.

"We have to get up."

"But...you pinched me."

"I did. You were ignoring me."

Cyrus’ mischievous smirk made me forgive him immediately. That was followed by a flood of emotions: exhilaration at what we’d done, a satisfying feeling of fatigue in my muscles, traces of remorse at having enjoyed my time with my supposed enemy, and embarrassment to be here together after having been so vulnerable. For some reason, seeing Cyrus’ open, playful face swept any awkwardness away.

I reached out, wrapping my arm around his waist and using my strength to pull him close to me. I kissed him, squeezing him tightly as I did so. He moaned into me for a moment, and then pushed himself off me.

"You're not distracting me. We have to get up." Cyrus jumped out of bed, and pulled the covers off. I grumbled as the cold air hit my skin.

"Why? I want to stay here."

"We have to get married."

I sat up straight, my eyes widening. "Today?"

Cyrus slipped a robe around his shoulders. "The big ceremony won't be for weeks. Every person that works here wants a chance to put their stamp on the Lord of Ashfuror's wedding."

I stretched my arms over my head, pushing my body to fully wake up. "Then what?"

"The nuptial ritual. The treaty requires that we be married upon your arrival in Ashfuror. It'll only be the two of us and Manod. Jelenna, if you wish."

"Oh." I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I sat there for a second, trying to take it all in. I thought I would have a day or two to adjust. To prepare for the marriage bond. Everyone said that it was intimate, startlingly so. More intimate than sex. Whatever connection was there now, I knew it would magnify a hundredfold when the soul bond was brought into being.

Cyrus sat down next to me, his voice low as he spoke. "I understand if you're not happy. This is quick.”

I turned, staring into his rich emerald eyes. "It's not that I regret…what we did. It's just, we only met a week ago. I thought there’d be time.”

I turned my face away, my eyes going to a nearby rug. He kissed me on the cheek, the lightest of brushes.

"It’s the nature of politics, sometimes. Human feeling gets left behind." He wrapped his arms around me. "I wish we had longer to learn about each other. But I like what I’ve seen so far. I…I’m not afraid of being known. By you."

I hugged him back, feeling his lithe body against my own. His warmth was comforting. It made me feel like there might be a way through this, some path that didn’t end in heartbreak.

I was avoiding thinking about what I’d been sent there to do. I knew that. But I could no longer think of Cyrus as my adversary, or even as a neutral obstacle. I had feelings for him that were new and strange to me. There was an ease between us that I couldn't dismiss.

"Let's get ready, love." Cyrus stood, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. "We don't want to keep Manod waiting."

In an hour we were clean and dressed. Servants had dropped off the ceremonial garments while we bathed. Mine was a navy blue robe, embroidered in intricate silver designs. It was open in the front, showing the simple black shirt and trousers I wore underneath. Cyrus' robe was red with gold embroidery, in the same style.

We stood side by side in his bedroom, observing ourselves in the large polished silver mirror. His reflection winked at me.

"You’re very handsome."

My face warmed at his words. "You were made to wear clothes like these. I look…we don’t have this kind of fancy clothing in Greatfalls.”

Cyrus kissed me lightly on my temple. "You couldn't be more perfect."

I didn't answer. It didn’t seem right to correct him on the way to our wedding.

"Let's go,” Cyrus said. “We don't want to keep Manod. He gets impatient."

Jelenna waited for me in a small, bare room next to the entrance to the chapel. When I walked through the door, she smiled, but there was a palpable tension underneath it. She closed the door behind me after checking the hallway for people.

"You look nice." She locked the door.

"Thank you?"

She turned to me, straightening the collar on my robe.

"You're getting married." Her tone was inscrutable, her eyes boring into me.

"I am."

"Tonight, you must perform your appointed task."

I didn’t say anything. I understood what I'd been assigned to do. But I also knew that in fifteen minutes, Cyrus would be my husband.

"Skye?"

"He’s not a monster,” I said, the words rushing out of me. “He makes me crazy sometimes, but he’s trying to do what's right, to be a leader."

"It's a facade. It's not real." Jelenna maintained a flat, emotionless tone, but she clenched her fists as she spoke.

"I stood beside him when he saved those villagers from the fire. It was real. It cost him. He wants to do what’s best for his people."

"What about our people?" Jelenna stepped away from me, picking something up from a nearby table.

"I...I don't know. I need to understand things better. I can’t do it tonight. I need to write Grandmother, to get some clarity.”

Jelenna brought hands up to my throat, pulling my collar out. In her hand was a small brooch: a gold bow, the symbol of the Archers. She attached it to my robes, her fingers gentle but sure.

"You've known him for a week,” she said. “Don't forget your home because you have a crush."

"It's not that simple."

She raised an eyebrow to me, but I continued.

“People say you can sense emotion through the marriage bond. What if we get married, and I find there’s no trace of deception? What if he is exactly who he says he is?”

She stepped back, appraising me from head to toe, and sighed. She was my oldest friend. She knew when I wasn't going to change my mind.

She smiled again. It was bittersweet, but it was genuine this time. "You really do look very nice."

"Thank you,” I said, trying to project the calm and certainty that I didn't feel. I held out my arm. She took it, and we walked out together.

The chapel of Stahkla was beautiful, if dark for my tastes. It was on the lowest level, and the walls were not constructed from stone blocks, but rather had been hewn out of a single enormous boulder of black chalcedony. It was an astonishing feat, and I could only imagine that they had needed the help of the God of Fire and Metal to complete it. The walls were covered in candles, and where an altar would be, there was a pit with a blazing bonfire contained within.

Manod stood in front of the fire, his arms outstretched in welcome. His robes were black, and emblazoned upon them were symbols of flame, similar to the banners Cyrus’ soldiers had carried. They pulsed orange with magical energy.

Excitement shown on Manod’s face, cutting through any of the weariness of old age. Jelenna let go of my arm and stepped to the side. I approached the bonfire.

"There’s a complicated ritual that we do mostly to impress the masses. We'll save that for the public wedding. Today, we enact the part that actually matters." Manod gestured down the chapel aisle. "Your intended has arrived."

I turned to see Cyrus in the doorway of the chapel. His robes sparkled in the light of the bonfire, and the crown on his head swirled with yellow and amber and pink. In the previous times I’d seen it come to life, it had been a deep, fiery orange, but these were the colors of the setting sun.

He exuded a noble air that was undercut by a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

"Are we doing this or what?"

Manod shook his head, chuckling. "It's good that Stahkla is not a self-serious god, or you'd never have survived so long as Lord of Ashfuror.”

Cyrus stepped forward and grabbed my hands in his.

"I know that you had no choice in this. Nor did I. But I have hope that this marriage can be more than a political convenience."

Over Cyrus' shoulder, I saw Jelenna's face set into a stone mask. I envied her in some ways. She could have done this, and it would have meant nothing to her. But that wasn’t me. The ritual, the marriage bond, it mattered to me. I wasn’t sure yet what it would grow into, but there was a tie between Cyrus and myself that was more than the requirements of a treaty we’d been forced to carry out.

“I want that, too,” I heard myself say. Cyrus smiled, and a warmth bloomed in my chest. Jelenna frowned.

"Let's begin." Manod gestured for us to stand together near the bonfire. "This ritual has two parts: the questioning and the joining. When we are done, you will be as one in the eyes of Stahkla."

I took a deep breath. Cyrus was right. We hadn't had a choice, and this was momentous in a way I didn't fully understand. But I would honor the treaty of my people. I hoped that with the bond solidified, our connection would blossom in the coming days.

"Answer the questions together. Do not look away from one another. The fire will burn away any falsity."

What did that mean? Cyrus saw the doubt in my eyes. He smiled at me, and the tension in my shoulders released. I understood that his smiles for me were different, were something he shared with no one else. They took my breath away.

"Go on, Manod." Cyrus spoke for both of us.

"The fire of the God is witness." Manod's voice took on a strange, deep resonance. It rattled in my chest. "Petitioners, do you pledge your devotion to one another, forsaking all others in this the strongest bond?"

"We do." The words came unbidden to my lips, as if my mind had been turned off, and only my soul answered. Cyrus looked surprised as well. Next to us, the bonfire blazed forth hotter and higher.

"Do you pledge to stand in the way of all harm to your betrothed, and to never purposefully cause them harm yourself?"

"We do." Once again, the fire blazed brighter, climbing up toward the roof of the chapel.

"Do you pledge to love each other, and in so doing, protect and love all of the people of Fyr?"

There was a pause. I didn't love Cyrus, I barely knew him, but within me, I felt there was something stirring. Were the seeds of love there? Could they be cultivated with time?

Yes.

"We do." The bonfire flashed, and heat poured off of it. It was almost too much, but I kept my eyes locked to Cyrus'. For some reason, withstanding the heat of the fire was an important part of the ceremony.

"Then join hands, petitioners." Cyrus reached out and I took his hand in mine. I felt him tremble as our fingers met. It was comforting to know that he was as nervous as I was.

"Now we seal your answers with the flame of truth." Manod stepped forward and rested his hand on top of ours. "And may that seal last through adversity and through prosperity, even past the point of death."

With that, Manod pushed our joined hands into the fire.

Jelenna yelled from across the room. I held up my free hand to stop her, knowing she would attack if she believed me to be in danger.

The spike of burning pain subsided almost immediately. Ropes of fire wound around our hands, and although there was an odd pressure, I no longer sensed any heat. As the cables tightened, I felt them sink into our skin, the energy dissolving and spreading.

The fire went out.

The chapel was now dark, except for the glow of Cyrus’ crown, and the glow of our two hands, now one. They shone bright with orange-red runes, shifting and turning as they surfaced on our skin and then disappeared. I held tight to Cyrus. We had to experience this fully. We could only let go when it was all over.

Then my mind was plunged into the deepest of dark waters. Around me swirled a maelstrom of emotions that I understood were not my own: fear, trepidation, a grasping for control, confusion, embarrassment, even pride. But there, at the center, was a spark, still small, but growing, pulsing and expanding little by little. It was hope.

Cyrus’ eyes were wide, and I knew he hadn’t had any warning of what would happen, that our connection would be so immediate and so deep. He stared at me with trepidation, scared of my reaction.

I smiled. I had pledged myself to him. To the possibility of our love.

Relief flashed on his face, and his whole body relaxed. On our hands, the ember-bright runes faded away, leaving our skin unblemished. Cyrus pulled me into him, kissing me hard, and I met him with the same fierceness.

We were joined.