by Kara Griffin
“I am Merrion, keeper of this house and sister to the king. I see to all the needs of his grace and this house. Best you remember that.”
Katriona raised a brow. She kept quiet and listened to the woman prattle on about the night’s activities and what was expected of her. Mali’s eyes widened from across the chamber. She joined her on the bedding and they sat with arms linked and listened.
“And then the priest will bless his grace’s bedchamber. Fear not for the king probably won’t bed you this night. He has more important matters to attend and rarely leaves his chamber. ‘Tis likely you’ll remain untouched. I will leave you to make ready. Don’t dally.”
The door closed with a bang as she left the chamber. Katriona flopped back upon the bedding and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, that was about the pleasantest reception I’ve ever received.”
Mali laughed boisterously. “You’ve never had a reception before. But aye, obviously the woman has no fondness for you. Did you hear what she said? Imagine discussing bedchamber matters openly. Mama would wash her mouth with soap. Either that or stuff her mouth with horse manure since she’s talking sh—”
Katriona slapped a hand over her sister’s mouth. “Shhh. We won’t speak discourteously here. Someone might overhear and mistake your jests. I am happy you are staying. We should tell Raen so he can be on his way.”
Mali shook her head. “He won’t leave until the morrow, after the festivities. He told Papa that he would ensure you were wed properly before he left…and happy. Honestly, you’re fortunate to be the baby for Papa cares more for you than the rest of us.”
“That’s nonsense and you know it. Papa cares for all of us. Well, apparently there won’t be a consummation of this marriage. Not that I mind because I…” She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she didn’t get a romantic stirring from her future husband. Katriona untied the strings of her overdress and reached for her satchel. Perhaps she would grow to love him given time, a lot of time…years probably. “I’m not looking forward to sharing a bed with the lord.”
Mali squeezed her hand. “Have courage, sister. Perhaps he will finish quickly and you can hail to your chamber. Await to dress for I shall call for a bath and food. We will make them wait if need be until you are more than presentable. That woman will swallow her tongue when she sees you in your fine garments and how beautiful you look. She’ll regret her hurtful words.”
“You always say the merriest things to cheer me. Have Wynn fetched for I’m sure he’s having fits by now.”
“I’ll see to him.” Mali left and quietly closed the door behind her.
Katriona opened her satchel and pulled out the beige-colored gown embellished with silk flowers shaded in rosy hues and the green stitched vines. After her bath, her sister would need to help her dress for the gown was cumbersome. She placed it on the bedding and tried to press the wrinkles from it. Mama made the dress for her wedding and she sighed at the thought of home. How she wished her parents attended her wedding, but alas they had many pressing matters to see to at home.
She pulled the gown to her chest and recalled Mama saying it would be the most beautiful garment any bride ever wore. Any woman would appear striking in it. At least she would impress the lord when she met him at the altar if that was at all possible.
Chapter THREE
Shrisy flapped her great wings and hovered near the cliff. Rhyder whistled to her, but she wouldn’t come. From what he could see, there was nothing evidently wrong with her. She appeared strong and uninjured. Yet he got a sense something was wrong. His dragon wouldn’t come when he called. She kept her distance and her eyes glowed with a reddish glint. Usually, her eyes shown light green and in a friendly manner. After a few minutes, she flew away, leaving him more perplexed at her strange behavior.
Rhyder returned to his solar to finish readying for his wedding. He tied the last strings of his leather tunic and pulled a matching leather belt around his waist. All he needed was the ceremonial sword and then he’d be ready. Once they took the vows, he’d give the sword to her brother as a gesture of good faith.
He was pleased no one bothered him in the last hour. Shrisy concerned him and yet he thought of nothing to give her aid. What was wrong with her? Obviously, she wasn’t hurt. It wasn’t like his dragon to avoid him. Such thoughts needed to be cast aside. His wedding guests waited, and he needed to do his duty.
Sawyer entered the chamber quietly and handed him the sword. “Are you ready? The guests have arrived and the priest awaits you.”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Where have you been? What’s kept you?” He shoved the sword in the scabbard and motioned for his friend to go forward.
“Distractions, Your Grace, nothing important or that bears confessing.” Sawyer headed to the door and turned when he stopped him with a grasp of his arm. “Your Grace?”
“Tell me of her.”
His friend grinned. “You’ll be pleased.”
He shoved Sawyer through the opening and into the hallway. Voices reverberated from below which indicated the guests grew impatient for the ceremony to begin. “That’s all you have to say?”
“She has bosoms.”
Rhyder laughed and the force of it shook his chest. “I needed that. But och, we shouldn’t speak disrespectfully of her. Is she kind?”
Sawyer leaned against the wall and grinned. “I can only say I’ve never seen a more fetching woman. When I say her blue eyes are beautiful… They are more enticing. When I tell you of her pert nose, lush lips, and rosy cheeks…”
He punched his arm in mirth. “Do not tease. What do her eyes bespeak besides enticement? Kindness or malice?”
“You speak not of beauty, Your Grace. Is that not all a man wants?”
Rhyder shrugged his shoulder. “There is beauty and there is beauty from within. Aye, most want a comely wife, but I need to know if she will treat our people with compassion.”
“You place our clan above yourself as always, Your Grace. Aye, she’s kind and mayhap tenderhearted. She speaks with a gentle voice. Not only is she comely in face, but the princess is lovely from within. She’s a beauty to be sure.”
“I see she’s besotted you. That is good for she’s going to win the hearts of our hamlet.”
Sawyer flashed a big grin. “Aye, and mayhap yours?”
“My heart won’t be as easily won over as yours. There are more important things in life than love, Sawyer, and leading our people is the only thing that matters. That and solacing Shrisy so she’ll continue to bring good fortune to our lands.” Rhyder nodded for Sawyer to start down the steps.
“God favors you, Your Grace, more than you know.”
Rhyder clipped the flooring with his heels in his haste to get to the great hall. His friend’s enthusiasm brought forth his curiosity. He wanted to view the princess for himself and assess whether he was favored. As he cut through the guests, he spotted the priest near the hearth. The elderly clergyman wore gilded vestments and held a thick tomb, ready and waiting to seal his fate.
Sawyer led the way to the altar where a woman bowed to his friend. She didn’t take notice of him and kept her gaze on his commander. Her golden hair pulled back from her face and swept her shoulders in a mass of curls.
“King Rhydderch, I am pleased with the celebration and look forward to our union,” she said to Sawyer.
He raised a brow at his friend whilst listening to her pleasant voice. The woman was confused, and he scowled to get his commander to correct the error.
Sawyer stepped back, appalled. “Princess, I’m not the king…allow me to present your betrothed… King Rhydderch Pendragon, His Grace.”
She gasped and raised her brightened face. Her blue eyes darkened with discomfiture.
“Princess,” he said and bowed. “I am pleased to see you again, Katriona.”
She pitched forward, and he caught her before she hit the floor. He turned to Sawyer and with a blank expression said, “I haven’t made a good
impression, have I?”
Sawyer chuckled but wouldn’t dare reproach him. “Perhaps not, Your Grace.”
Rhyder lifted the woman and carried her toward an antechamber. “Keep all away.”
Before his commander could clear the antechamber, a woman appeared and tried to push him aside. “I will not keep away. I should tend to her.”
“Are you her maidservant?” Rhyder wouldn’t let her pass until she answered and the woman huffed in frustration.
“Nay, I’m her sister…please let me make sure she’s not hurt.”
“She’s not injured. Why don’t you get a cup of wine for her?” Her sister hailed off and he turned back to find Katriona watching him. “You’re not injured, are you?”
She shook her head.
He signaled to Sawyer with a wave. “I don’t want to be disturbed. None are to enter.”
Sawyer stood at the entry with his back to them and blocked the antechamber from the onlookers.
“It has been many years since we’ve seen each other, Katy. Why did you think Sawyer was me?” Rhyder leaned against the wooden beam near the chair and waited for her to speak.
Katriona folded her hands in her lap and appeared serene. “I wasn’t certain what you…looked like and thought, that is…he never introduced himself and I thought he was…you.”
“Should I reprimand him for being deceitful? He misled you on purpose.” He jested, but she didn’t catch on.
“Oh nay, please don’t. I’m sure he didn’t mean to mislead… It was my mistake.”
“You’re kindhearted in your concern for him. Sawyer likes to tease and I suspect he purposely led you to believe he was me to rattle you. I assure you, I’m Rhydderch, Katy.”
“Why do you call me Katy? I’m Katriona.”
“I will call you Katy. I recall your father calling you by the endearment.” He’d always thought of her as Katy, especially after hearing her father calling her by the nickname at the betrothal feast so long ago.
“Only he calls me that. Your home is—”
“You must call me Rhyder, but only when we’re alone. Otherwise whatever is proper. What did you call your father?”
She smiled and set a hand on his and gasped. “I called him father or papa. Such formality here… I shall call you my lord, as you wish.”
He bellowed a laugh and drew Sawyer’s attention. Rhyder never was at a loss for words but the enchanting lady riddled him senseless. She had fortitude, and beneath that, benevolence. Sawyer was right for she was lovely. If the guests weren’t impatient for the celebration and feast to begin, he might gawk at her for the rest of the night.
“Katy, I don’t want you to fear me.”
“Why would I fear you, My Lord?”
He grinned at the memory of when they’d first met and her outrageousness. “The last time I saw you, you swore I was going to eat you. I vow I’m not barbaric.”
She smiled in return. “Oh, that was childhood foolishness. I was young and my sister teased me… Surely you won’t hold that against me.”
“Nay, but one day you will tell me why you thought I would eat you.”
“Mayhap I shall.”
“For now, I’ll be content if you tell me why you keeled over. I won’t wait for that explanation.” He tried not to be intimidating but his words came out with force. Her faint troubled him. Rhyder hoped it wasn’t because she reviled him. That would be a terrible start to their marriage.
“Very well, My Lord, I was overcome that your commander wasn’t you.”
Rhyder’s chest tightened. Her face remained impassive when she insulted him. He was taken aback at her disregard. No one dared to offend him but she seemed not to care. He wanted her to be pleased with him and because she apparently wasn’t, he tensed and stood braced for more slights.
“I’ve done it again, haven’t I? You misunderstand me, My Lord…I am pleased he is not you and you are you, if I’m making any sense?”
“Katy, I have given you permission to call me Rhyder when we’re alone. I want you to say my name.” He squeezed her hand to get her acceptance.
“Your full name? Mama made me memorize it, but I—”
He laughed and the sound seemed strange to him. It had been a long time since he’d let himself enjoy being in anyone’s company. “Nay, not my full name.” He pulled her to stand in front of him and she gasped when he clasped her hand.
She gazed at him with the loveliest blue eyes, eyes that bespoke passion, love, and understanding. Her face was pretty with light brows and slightly rosy-tinged cheeks. But what held his attention were her lips, softly glistened and flush. In that moment, he knew kissing her would be pleasurable. He didn’t want to be captivated or taken in by her, but his reaction to her disordered him.
“Rhyder…”
He lifted her chin with gentle fingers. “Aye, good. You finally learned to obey. The priest awaits. All wait.”
“I vow to make you a good wife.”
“You will? We shall see.” He felt the tension ease from his shoulders. “Come and let us get the sacrament behind us.”
When they entered the great hall, all quieted and watched them proceed to the altar. Rhyder wasn’t religious, at least, not in the Catholic sense, and the rite was more ceremonial. Ever since his parent’s deaths, he lost what faith he had. Although, he still revered the old druid priest who resided on his land. But the druid priest was more a healer and a mystic than a God-fearing cleric.
He stood braced and ready with his head bowed. With a glance, he noticed his betrothed wore a serene expression on her face and her body relaxed. She wasn’t apprehensive about their wedding after all. That was a good sign.
Before Father Matthew began, Katy handed the elderly man a silken cord, woven with ribbons. “Please use this tie for the binding ceremony and these words.” She placed a rolled parchment in his hand. “My Mama wanted me to be wedded with them. It is important to me.”
Rhyder nodded at the priest, giving his approval. He cared not about the trivialities, only that in the end she would be joined to him.
Father Matthew announced the sacrament and Godly words. He joined their hands and lifted them for all to see. With the silken cord, he set it over their wrists and began reciting the words from the parchment:
May your love be like the earth: rich, natural, and deeply rooted.
As strong as a rock, yet soft as sand. Always growing and ever patient.
The priest frowned because the binding words were primitive and more akin to a pagan ritual than Christian. Rhyder smiled for it gave him insight on who Katy was. She revered the old ways, even though the church grew more disapproving of such rites.
Father Matthew then set the knot atop their knuckles and continued in a strained voice:
May your love be like fire: passionate, intense, and energetic.
A flame that never dies. As radiant as the morning sun and as warm as an evening embrace.
Rhyder tightened his hold on her hand and turned to peer at her. Passionate, intense, and energetic, indeed. He almost groaned aloud at hearing the proclamation. The romanticism of the words struck him at the reality of their vows. She smiled and returned the embrace of their hands. It was then he noticed how richly garbed she was. The gown she wore was graceful and fit her to perfection. He turned back as the priest continued in his deeply toned albeit affronted tone:
May your love be like water, constantly moving and ever-changing.
Never still, never stagnant.
As vast as the ocean and as fresh as spring rain.
Father Matthew overlapped the tie and put another knot in the rope, and after clearing his throat, continued:
May your love be like air: the sharing of dreams, ever fragrant, and always lighthearted.
Found in the breeze of a whisper or in the breath of a kiss.
Another tied bound them further.
May your love be like all elements: physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually entwined.
The priest fastened one last knot and was silent for a moment. His bulbous nose reddened likely with ire.
As intertwined are these elements so shall your hearts interweave.
The words Katy wanted spoken were poetic and romantic. Rhyder was neither poetic nor romantic, and he feared he would disappoint the beautiful woman.
Father Matthew began his Christian sermon on the duties of marriage and what their pledge meant. Rhyder shifted for the priest was overlong with his lecture. For several moments, his mind drifted to Shrisy, hamlet matters, Sawyer’s enamor of his new wife, and how grand the hall appeared. He took a deep breath and refocused on the clergyman’s words.
After a few more blessings, the priest shouted for all to hear, “You are now husband and wife. Go forth with God’s blessings. If you wish to share a kiss to seal these vows…”
Rhyder waited for Father Matthew to undo the ties that bound their hands together. As soon as they were freed, he pulled her forward and settled his mouth on hers. The kiss although modest, sparked a desire in him. He didn’t want to end it, but wouldn’t be crass in front of the priest or his followers.
“Did you feel that?” he whispered so only she heard.
She stared into his eyes. “Aye, I did.”
He retook her hand and led her to the feast. At the end of the great hall stood a massive wooden table, covered with a velvet red cloth, woven with golden embellishments. The table lavishly adorned with candles and settings of platters and goblets. He bid her to sit and took the chair next to hers. She appeared discomfited at being the focus of all those in the hall. He took pity on her and decided to get the last ritual over with so they might enjoy their supper.
Rhyder stood, held up his hand, and called forth her brother. “Raen of house Baldach, as a gesture of my good faith toward Princess Katriona, now Her Grace of Pendragon, I gift this sword to you, her family, the Baldachs. May it serve well: power, protection, authority, strength, and courage when needed.”
