Page 8 of Ties of Starlight (Tethered Hearts #2)
N yrunn could chalk his lack of sleep up to the fact that his people didn't usually sleep so early in the night to stay awake all day, but since he hadn't slept a wink the night before either, he knew it had nothing to do with that.
It had everything to do with his wife, asleep a few feet away from him. His wife who thought he hated her. Who thought he found her repulsive. Who wanted another man.
Nyrunn tossed and turned until he finally ended up just facing her. He could see her faint outline even in the darkness thanks to the copious amount of starlight outside trickling in through the thin canvas of their tent.
So...
Frode had been right.
This was a bad idea, but it was too late to change anything.
He ran his fingers over the lines binding him to a woman who hated him. Who had absolutely no idea he’d been in love with her for years.
He was still trying to wrap his mind around it. Around the fact that he'd been so completely wrong. He'd been so blind.
And apparently misreading every interaction he'd ever had with her.
He'd thought it'd been more than obvious his affection for her, at least obvious to her. He'd had to keep it quiet when his father was alive in order to protect her.
If his father had known… Idonea wouldn’t have lived long enough to even have a chance at being part of the Cometa Couple.
But to think that the countless times he'd gone to the library, a flimsy excuse in hand for anyone who might overhear, and never had she realized he was there to see her. What he always thought was playful teasing and flirting she'd been storing up as insults and evidence of immature hate.
He still didn’t understand.
“You know, there’s no shame in simply asking one of us to reach that for you. What good is our height if you don’t let us make use of it?”
She’d stubbornly ignored him even as her cheeks had flooded red while she kept climbing the ladder and shoved the book back into place, earning a laugh from him when she’d flashed him a triumphant grin. Didn’t she realize he’d been saying that simply to keep her off that rickety old ladder that was bound to snap one day and break her neck?
“Little lily, you should wear your hair like that more often. It suits you.”
She’d immediately reached up and brushed her fingertips over the not-quite round and not-quite pointed tip of her ear as her cheeks flooded a violent red. He’d loved making her blush. He’d thought it had been of shock at his blatant compliment and open affection, but now he was starting to think every single one had been embarrassment and anger.
The next day, her hair was down, hiding her ears, and he never once saw her wind dark blue or purple ribbons into her hair again. He’d thought she was just being contrary to spite him and tease him back.
“You look beautiful.”
She’d rolled her eyes and resumed pushing the cart of books down the aisle. He stood in his starry, dark purple and perfectly tailored clothes, not even able to shine a candle to her. She adjusted one of the ladders in her plain uniform. Her white blouse was pulling up, no longer perfectly tucked into her skirt. The purple outer mantle that marked her position was for once belted at the waist. It split down the sides over her skirt. She usually wore it unbelted and loose, hiding her figure. It had accumulated some dust. Her hair was pulled into a bun that was falling apart from the wear of a long day. Her necklace, however, was always the shiniest and most expensive thing on her, glinting in the starlight. “Your Highness, don’t you have a ball to get back to? I know pestering me is your favorite pastime, but I’m sure your court is missing you.”
He'd been unable to explain. The words on his tongue stayed there, because she was right. His father would notice he was missing, so he could not stay and risk her paying the price.
He'd thought he'd been charming her, and she thought he had been belittling her.
And to think a whole nation was in his hands. Had there ever been more of a fool?
No.
The veil had been ripped from his eyes, right about the time he'd removed hers. Now he could see things clearly. He could see the mess he was in clearly .
He'd hoped—he wasn't so stupid as not to have expected some upset on her end that she wasn't marrying a man she claimed to love. But he'd thought... he'd hoped… He'd hoped that whatever affection she had for Olaug because she'd been forced to be part of the Cometa Couple would fade when he married her. That she would be able to adjust and maybe even be pleased they could finally be together.
Idonea was tossing and turning almost as much as he was, but he could tell by her breathing she was asleep even if she wasn't getting much real rest. Of course she wasn't. The best day of her life had turned into a disaster, and his was the only face she could blame since the real cause had run off and abandoned her.
No. He was foolish to think his affection had ever been returned, and now... He could not dare let himself have any hope.
She'd made herself clear. And yet their circumstances were unchanged. They were the Cometa Couple. They would complete the chain of rituals, the Heava Dance, the Rescue, and the Constellation Pool and restore their people's magic to full strength and then find a way to move forward afterwards. He'd been mentally preparing himself for a loveless marriage held together only by duty.
He'd never pictured it would include the woman he loved. But this he could do. As far as she and anyone else would ever know, he stepped in because as king he could not afford for this to fail and their people to grow weaker.
This was a marriage of duty and nothing more.
Nyrunn managed to doze a little before the sun was rising and trickling in through the canvas. His back was aching from the cold ground, but he didn't really move, just watched Idonea's movements pick up in her sleep.
Repulsed? He'd always thought her more stunning than any elf maiden he'd ever laid eyes on. Her inky, pure black hair was breathtaking even as it was haphazard and tangled from being left loose all night.
Everything in his life was always so manicured. Everywhere he looked was extravagance. He was the heir, the only heir. Everyone around him never let him forget it. His father especially. Nyrunn could not even have a hair out of place. Not a single stitch out of place. Everything always had to be perfect.
Idonea had always been a breath of fresh air. An escape.
Although her current expression wasn’t one he was fond of as her face screwed up, and then she jolted forward. She lunged upward, scrambling until she was sinking her hands in the sheets, twisting around, and one hand reaching up and clutching at her chest and her neck as she gasped frantically for air.
He was up on his feet in an instant, rushing to her side. “Idonea—breathe, you're alright. You're safe. Everything is alright.”
He knelt by the bed as she looked around, the glassy haze in her eyes fading even as she was still heaving trying to catch her breath. She quickly buried her face in her hand, the other still clutching her chest, fingers skimming over the necklace.
She muttered, “It's not.”
“It was just a nightmare—”
She lifted her head and fixed her teary, red eyes on him. “No. It really isn't. This is real.”
Oh.
And right after he'd resolved not to think of this as any more than a marriage of duty for this exact reason. She was unknowingly going to decimate him every day for the rest of their lives.
He pushed himself to his feet, rolling his stiff shoulders and pretending like it wasn't cutting him in two to watch her dry her own tears and hide her heartbreak and devastation behind her own mask.
He didn’t need to be able to sense the emotions she’d walled off to be able to see that.
“I'll just... I'll go make sure we're ready to leave soon so you can get dressed,” Nyrunn murmured and headed for the tent exit, not caring about his own rumpled appearance.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Idonea said, shoving the covers aside and crawling out of bed. Her fingers were still lingering over her chest, her nightgown covering all the skin. Now that he thought about it, he'd never seen her in anything with a neckline that dipped below her collarbone. Her necklace was always on the outside of the fabric, never against her skin.
With that, he hurried out of the tent.
She'd claimed he would be torturing himself being married to her, but she had no idea just how much.
The second he stepped out of the tent, he winced at the sunlight, but blinked quickly to see a flurry of movement happening as the servants cleaned up and packed up everything their large party would need as they set out. The Constella was checking the saddlebags on his horse and Nyrunn immediately received a glare from him.
He tried to push down the guilt rolling in his stomach, mostly out of fear Idonea would still be able to sense it. He’d… pushed the truth a little when he’d claimed there had been no time to tell her. There’d been enough time to send a note to the Constella, who was now looking at Nyrunn like it was his fault Olaug had run off.
Nyrunn ignored the Constella as Frode abandoned his conversation with the captain of the guard and hurried over to Nyrunn .
“Good morning, Your Majesty, from the looks of it—”
“Say one more word and you lose your tongue. There will be no commentary on my appearance or any remarks that can in any way insinuate anything about last night to me, but especially to Lady Idonea. Anyone who says anything, especially to her, will not like the consequences.”
Frode nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. I would expect nothing less from you. Only married one night and you're already incredibly protective of her.”
“Just tell me that you're taking care of everything so I don't have to concern myself with anything but getting on a horse and figuring out what's required of me next as part of the Cometa Couple.”
“I am taking care of everything, Your Majesty.”
Good. Because with all the looks he was getting from the court members who were trickling out of the castle in order to depart, he needed to dart back inside the tent and fix his disheveled appearance.
Lady Asa stood by her horse and was taking in his wrinkled clothes with a raised eyebrow. A group of guards stood nearby as well, and one made a comment Nyrunn couldn't hear but the snickering and the whistle were enough to know the general, inappropriate and disrespectful nature of it. Nyrunn shot them a glare, drawing Frode's attention to them as Nyrunn nodded at them. “Fire them. Immediately. Make an example. I may not be my father, but I will not tolerate any disrespect to myself and especially not to my wife.”
“It will be done, Your Majesty. Now, regarding other matters—”
“What other matters are there?”
Frode lowered his voice. “Agnarr's former chosen?”
Nyrunn's heart dropped, but he kept his expression cool as he said, “What about him? Was he located? ”
Even if he was, it didn't matter. The wedding had already happened, and after reading his letter, Nyrunn wouldn't let the piece of scum so much as breathe in Idonea's presence. But what she would do if he was, on the other hand...
“No, Your Majesty. Just updating you that he has not been found, and we suspect he made it out of the city during the wedding.”
If Olaug knew what was best for him, he'd stay away.
“Hmm. So be it. Keep looking, just in case you find anything. He has committed treason, after all, and I can’t let the court think I’m letting him get away with it. Now make sure we're ready to move out once Idonea and I are ready.”
“Quick question, shall we refer to her as Lady Idonea or should we go ahead and start calling her Queen Idonea? When will she be crowned?”
Excellent questions… Nyrunn hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Lady Idonea is fine for now. I will... decide upon the coronation later, and when she is crowned as queen then you can refer to her as such.” Mostly because Nyrunn knew thrusting her into the title and role now after so much turmoil and change was only going to end poorly for him. Better to give her time to warm up to the change in circumstances. She wouldn’t even have anything to do with the role until then, so that bridge could be crossed later.
Whether or not it was possible, he'd rather not do anything to make her hate him even more.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Now, regarding—”
“You can pester me when we ride!” Nyrunn threw over his shoulder and ducked into the tent.
There was a little yelp, and he looked up to see Idonea flushing bright red as she turned her back to him and started hurrying with her ties.
She knotted them, and Nyrunn's instinct was to look away, but she was covered. He glanced at the mirror she was now facing and through it he could see her front. The dress had a perfectly normal neckline for a noblewoman's day dress, but it was off the shoulder and dipped lower than he'd ever seen her wear.
She grabbed the shawl off the vanity and scrambled to wrap it around herself, and he saw what he suspected was the reason why. She had a birthmark, a jagged line stretching up from under the neckline and across her chest diagonally, near her heart. It was quickly hidden beneath her shawl.
She pinned her shawl in place and turned around, cheeks still red and clutching the star-patterned fabric.
“Sorry, I should have warned you I was coming in,” Nyrunn said, ducking his head and moving toward his things. As he opened the bag, he saw they weren't really his things. Right. The Cometa Couple had specific clothes they had to wear as part of the tradition.
“Just—next time, please. For both our sakes,” Idonea murmured as she dropped to the ground and started fussing with her bag.
This was just about duty. So that comment didn't send another fissure through his heart.
Instead, he pulled out his clothes and just focused on making himself presentable.
He could tell Idonea wasn't looking at him; she was fussing with her things, particularly the books she had. As he pulled his shirt over his head, watching her out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't fathom why she'd packed several books. The Constella knew the ritual inside and out—what more did they need ?
She wasn't opening any of them.
Interesting.
He finished putting on the outfit, and it at least wasn't completely ridiculous or uncomfortable, given they would be riding all day. It was still ostentatious, but no more so than most of the things he had to wear as king. Plus, it matched Idonea's, marking them clearly as a pair.
As soon as he was done, he cleared his throat and said, “We’d better get moving.”
At his words, Idonea ran out of the tent with her things.
He sighed and followed after her, taking his bag, and when he stepped outside the tent, he moved to hand it off to the servant waiting for him. There was another servant trying to do the same for Idonea, but she was clutching it and leaning away. “My things will stay with me.”
“It'll be far better for us to keep it with the other—” The servant was already holding the bag that her dress had been shoved into, but Idonea was clutching the one that contained the books. Did she expect to read while riding?
“This bag stays with me, and there is no precedent for it not to. Gytha's chosen is allowed to keep her personal belongings with her and has in the past.”
Nyrunn waved his servant away and moved over to Idonea and the elf she was arguing with. “It's alright, it's not all that heavy, I'm sure. If she wants to keep it close, that's no trouble.”
The servant bowed and said, “Of course, Your Majesty.”
Idonea eyed him, still keeping an iron-tight grip on the bag. He just gestured toward the horse waiting for her. She didn't take her narrowed eyes off him as she moved toward it. Then he held his hand out. “Let me get it secured for you.”
She just lifted her chin. “Thank you, Your Majesty, but I can handle it. ”
What did she expect him to do with it in broad daylight with her watching him? What was so important about it that she wouldn't let anyone else touch it?
Idonea made quick work of securing her small bag to the saddle, setting it on the horse's back behind the saddle. The way she did it was practiced and instinctual, which didn't make much sense because she'd lived in Novum her whole life and hadn't traveled anywhere.
It was pathetic that he knew that.
But within seconds she was done, turning back to him and saying, “See? No trouble for me.”
“Right, now—” He took another step closer, reaching for her, and she jumped back, bumping into the horse, eyes wide. He paused and gestured to the horse that was quite tall for a girl of her stature. “You don't expect to get up there by yourself, do you? In those skirts?”
Her shoulders sagged as she looked up at the beast and muttered, “What? The last one—Why is this one so tall?”
“Come on, I can hardly make him shorter,” Nyrunn said, reaching out again but not making contact. Idonea this time shifted closer, stepping into his arms, even if she had an uneasy expression while doing it.
He tried to ignore the way his heart stuttered as his hands settled on her waist and he lifted her up and set her on the saddle so her legs hung off the side. But he didn't let go so she could adjust her seat. His traitorous fingers curled in tighter, and even beneath her bodice, he could feel the warmth of her skin. The sunlight fell and struck the braid that draped over her shoulder, lighting her soft features. How could she think he would ever find her repulsive?
How could Olaug have ever looked at her and been anything but smitten with her beauty?
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she whispered, eyeing his hands still on her waist. He reluctantly pulled them back. As soon as he had, she was tucking her legs into the correct position and sitting forward, taking the reins.
He just nodded and moved to take his horse from the stableboy holding his reins. As soon as he swung up into his saddle, Frode rode over to him and said, “Everything is ready, Your Majesty.”
Nyrunn glanced at Idonea, who was just staring down at her reins, rubbing her thumb over the leather. What a mystery she was.
And maybe she should stay that way. If he wanted to sever his heart from this situation, the less he knew the better.
He tapped his heels against his steed's flank and directed it toward the front of the group. “Let's move out!”
He looked over his shoulder one last time as Idonea took a spot at the back of the entourage. He'd been trying to sever his heart from her for a year and he'd never succeeded; how did he expect to now that she was his against her will?