Page 13

twelve

Carnaxa

W ide doors swing open and I expect to see joyous faces like there would be in Antalis on a wedding day. I’ve been imagining the intense colors and delightful fragrances that would engulf me and fill my senses with awe on this special day since I was a child. Instead, it’s dark. There is a chandelier casting dim shadows over the top of the raised platform that will serve as the stage for our ceremony. The people, mostly men, look my way. Keeping their heads down, the few women present ignore me. The men, they stare ... and I can feel their eyes taking off the clothes that I wear .

My fingers tremble before a warmth washes over them — Thylas’ hand wraps around my own. A comforting sensation spreads through me as he lightly squeezes. I take a deep breath as I try to find Siphonie. She stands with her head raised in the front row, unlike the rest of the women here, and smiles at me. Rhenor stands beside her holding her hand.

I focus on them and the feeling of my ambassador’s fingers anchor me as we stride down the aisle. I don’t remember what he means to me, but it’s clear I mean something to him. I hold on to that feeling, the only comfort in this strange place. There’s no music and no cheers, only the clicking of my heels. I look ahead and see a priest of Shaston. I squint my eyes, trying to see him better, but he’s covered from head to toe. His robe is of the darkest black I’ve ever seen and I find only darkness where a face should be. A cold shiver washes over me and I have to control myself to keep from running away. I don’t want him to marry us. I take another deep breath. Be strong. That’s what I have to be right now.

If I should ever find my way out of this, I will never be this helpless again.

The words that flash through my mind are a memory stirring, an oath I made to myself and the Goddess. I’ll keep that oath. I straighten my back and raise my eyes to meet the hooded figure.

As we reach the end of the aisle, I start to look around for Prince Ereon. He should be here by now, shouldn’t he? A loud horn breaches the silence. It’s a deep melancholy sound, resembling more of a battle horn than something that should be played at a celebration .

Shache Ataiun walks in, his permanent sneer still in place as he eyes me. He has his hands wrapped around a whip at his side instead of a sword like the Ambassador’s.

“King Atlas Koshear of Shaston,” Shache Ataiun bellows.

As if a wave takes over them, the Shastonians behind me fall to their knees with their heads bowed. It’s not a bow of respect for their King, but of complete submission. I feel Thylas tense beside me, but he remains standing. As I glance to Rhenor, Siphonie is whispering in his ear, but he shakes his head. They won’t bow like that either and they shouldn’t, instead they bow at the waist as they would to my father to show respect.

King Atlas walks in, his large crown grazing the top of his brow bone. He wears a dark tunic that has his silver armor over it. His eyes overlook everyone, but he stops on Siphonie and Rhenor. His jaw tenses before he continues to walk to a throne I didn’t realize was behind the faceless priest. He sits down with a look of absolute boredom on his face.

“Prince Ereon Koshear of Shaston,” Shache Ataiun announces, startling us once again. The people are still on their knees.

The door opens and all I can do is stare. Ereon has his curls tamed as they hang to his shoulders. His curved swords are secured high on his back. He wears a dark shirt with sleeves that stop at his elbows along with leather pants that leave nothing to the imagination; I blush at the impression of what’s underneath them. As he walks across the raised platform he favors his left leg and it’s then I notice his face .

A fresh black eye and split lip adorn his handsome features, proof of a recent altercation. Ereon’s face is a blend of stoic poise and fury. As if he would kill anyone who gets in his way, and that this ceremony is nothing spectacular. When he turns, his walnut-colored eyes meet mine and his expression changes. Smiling, he takes a step down, never breaking eye contact. After a quick moment, sorrow filters through him as he looks over at Thylas who still holds my hand.

“ Ryem sha kyach ,” the priest announces, and I can only assume that he has everyone rise and sit because that’s what they do. No other sounds but breathing can be heard.

“ Su Kechni Carnaxa Althister of Antalis.” I jerk my head away from Ereon’s direction as the priest uses the Antihana version of my title. I didn’t expect it with everything else that is different here, but I smile at the words. “You are in front of Prince Ereon Koshear of Shaston, being presented to be accepted as his wife. Does the Ambassador of Antalis recognize this and wish to continue with the Nle Shom ?”

My nose scrunches as the words he says don’t sound right. I’m not a gift — I’m an heir in the same manner that Ereon is. Before I can utter a single word to challenge the phrasing, Thylas inches closer, inhaling deeply before speaking.

“The Kingdom of Antalis, with the blessing of King Clennom —” he stumbles over his words and I feel his fingers that linger over mine, tighten — “grants Su Kechni Carnaxa Althister to be wed to Prince Ereon of Shaston. ”

The priest nods toward Ereon, who then reaches his hand out in my direction. I reach toward it, but Thylas still holds onto my other in the crook of his arm. I glance back and he is staring at Ereon, who is staring right back. They seem to share a silent exchange as Ereon’s cool fingers take my hand.

Ereon steps closer, lowering his voice so that only Thylas and I can hear. “I’ll take care of her, Thylas. I got you, Princess. Just relax. We’ve got you.” The words touch the edges of my memory as Thylas lets go. The warmth I felt from him recedes as he does. I don’t know where he goes because when the warmth vanishes a soft coolness washes over me. It’s not like the iciness of fear I felt when I saw the priest. This is like floating in the Goddess’ seas. This reminds me of home.

Ereon smiles down at me, pulling me closer to him and whispers, “You’re beautiful, Princess.”

My cheeks flame and I can’t help the smile that crosses my lips. He leads me up the two steps it takes to arrive in front of the priest. We stand facing each other and the priest uses words I don’t understand. It sounds like a prayer, perhaps.

Ereon doesn’t look away from him. His thumbs running across the back of my hands keep me grounded. I want to look around, I want to know what’s being said, but I just stare at him. My heart feels like it’s being pulled but I ignore the sensation thinking it’s nerves. I wish I could remember more about what happened in the last few moon cycles. A loud horn thunders again and I jump. Is it over? The onlookers stand and Ereon releases one of my hands, clearing his throat .

“Sit down.” His tone has changed from the tenderness of earlier to one of authority, a voice that commands obedience, that can elicit fear. It’s stern as he addresses the guests.

“Because Princess Carnaxa is from Antalis, I agreed with her father that we would perform the Noko Maki .” King Atlas curses under his breath but says nothing else. The men and women in attendance sit back down, seeming to grumble as well.

I lean in to the Prince and whisper, “I ... I don’t have a shell.”

A smile widens across his face as he looks at me. “I do. I found them when we were on the beach before we left Antalis.” My brow furrows in confusion. Being a Prince of Shaston who doesn’t believe in our goddess, he had no reason to grab shells for this ceremony … unless he cares for me.

Reaching into a silver pouch I didn’t realize was hanging from a loop on his pants, he grabs something inside and pulls it out. In his hand are two matching shells. They shimmer in the dark light and I can tell that if we were in the sunlight, they would be iridescent and sparkly. Tears brim my eyes at the beautiful gesture. I reach to pick up the large piece, knowing it’s the one meant for him.

“You know the words and how to perform it?” Ereon asks the priest, who nods. I believe it was a nod. It’s hard to tell when he’s just a dark shadow of a presence. “Then begin.”

Ereon removes his armor and delicately grabs the shell meant for me and places it on my sternum, just below the collarbone, and I do the same to him. His tunic, I realize, is one from Antalis but in his house colors. It’s a true Noko Maki tunic. Despite the expectation of fear, I am surprisingly filled with peace and acceptance as I prepare to say this sacred vow. I know the words just as every Antalian does. I know that if I reject him now, the shell will not set. So I take a deep breath as the priest begins the words we are to repeat.

“ A kometo k? a yot? .”

“I give you my heart,” Ereon says instead of using Antihana like I do, and I chuckle. He probably can’t speak Antihana any more than I can speak Shalmilish, the language of his sand god. I can feel his heart beating faster beneath my hand that holds the shell atop his chest.

“A kometo k? a hor? ,” the priest continues.

“I give you my body,” we repeat.

His father catches my attention as he starts to stand as if irritated by what’s happening in front of him, but Ereon, with his spare hand, reaches out to grasp mine and I focus back on him.

“ A kometo k? a yan? .”

“I give you my soul.” Ereon’s smooth voice echoes throughout the room, rendering mine almost inaudible as we repeat the words in unison.

“ Sa ah? ta he mi ke yengo oyom? pi shall ha ki hoha .” The priest finishes the last bit, and both Ereon and I take a deep breath before repeating once more.

“Two become one and as the waters crash, we shall not be without.”

As we finish the words, the shells beneath our palms glow and a buzzing flows through them. I feel the shell embed itself within my soft skin and watch as his does the same. It doesn’t hurt, instead it tickles and sends shivers down my spine. We release our palms and I touch my shell that’s still warm. I look at Ereon. Thank you , I mouth. He didn’t have to do this and yet, he did.

“Well thank Ra Syam , that wretched display is over.” The King stands, and the priest bows his head towards him. “Now that you’ve forever deformed yourself, Ereon, we can begin the Nle Shom .”