The hour arrived.
The bride’s coach had curtains of deep, blue velvet—just like a priest’s robe—to prevent him from seeing Denua as he and his guards and footman and driver loaded into the groom’s coach.
The drive to the cathedral was agonizingly slow. He tried to affect a smile of radiant happiness as he rode, waving to the shouting throngs. As if they cared about him. He was sweating despite the cold. He didn’t know any of these people, and he wanted this all to be over. Denua’s coach would be lumbering along behind, curtains open, and she would be waving and smiling as well. What was she feeling? Did she enjoy being on display?
Finally they arrived. Ceremonially dressed guards formed up around the coaches, and his own guards dismounted to join them. Then the footman let him out and he could really see the cathedral.
If Evin had only just arrived in Parige, he would have said the cathedral was the largest building in the world. It was beautifully carved from blocks of gray stone, and its most prominent features were the flying buttresses reinforcing the walls in rows along the length of the building. Far above, he could see the shapes of gargoyles, but closer to the ground, images of—he assumed—the aeons and their saints and prophets were cut in bas-relief around the mighty, arched portals.
One of the portal doors swung wide for him now. He stopped gaping. Today he was not a tourist. Surrounded by his formation of guards, he marched inside.
People stood all along each side of an aisle lit with multicolored light from stained-glass windows high above. Guards parted, allowing him to lead. He walked through the light, watching its different colors move over him, just like the patches of moonlight had caressed Gareth’s skin on that first night—
Concentrate.
He looked up again toward his destination: the chancel where the priests waited. Evin approached. He saw that the officiating priest’s costume was even gaudier than usual. The man wore a hat with high panels that came to points at front and back. It was white with intricate gold designs. It made him look taller than a man, more imposing. Surely that was the intent, but it also reminded Evin strongly of the tip of a man’s cock. The blue velvet robe had pale yellow stripes sewn on each sleeve, making the design of four stacked rooftops. The robe was worn over a chemise ending in a spill of white lace at each sleeve. And the man was wearing little red leather shoes in the high-heeled style favored by some noblemen.
Evin had never seen such a fancy priest. He seemed to be pretending both to holiness and to rank and nobility at the same time.
Other priests were arrayed there too, with simpler cock hats and ordinary priest robes. Captain Uliette stood by with a case containing the linens and tiny ceremonial dagger to be used today. Denua’s skin would not be touched by unknown implements.
The fancy priest twisted his face into a terrifying smile, fixed it on Evin for a moment, then looked around at the assembled crowd. Loud, slow music began to play, and everyone looked back toward the cathedral’s portals.
Denua entered, radiating light and beauty. Her white dress and veil had been ensorceled to make it appear as if a bright beam of sunlight shone on her wherever she went. She glided down the walkway in paces timed with the music. She was lovely. Evin could not look away. Adoration for her surged in his breast, and he knew she felt the same.
Finally she was beside him, and they melted into each other’s eyes. She was as he had seen her on that first day, the completion of a lifelong dream of beauty that he never knew he had dreamed.
An old man’s voice drew away part of his attention. The fancy priest had begun the ceremony. There were some words Evin had to mindlessly repeat, then a kiss, and then the most vital moment of all—when Denua turned off her shield, the priest sliced their palms with the ceremonial dagger, and Evin’s blood mingled with Denua’s to make them one.
Fingers intertwined, they raised their bleeding hands to show the crowd. Two of the lesser priests came forward with strips of linen, and the bride and groom each wrapped the other’s hand. As they fumbled with the fabric, the fancy priest reminded them of the Lords’ requirement that unions of flesh bring forth children for the glory of Teleos, the father of gods. He gave his instruction that husband and wife were to go now to consummate and conceive.
It took all of Evin’s self-control to walk at a normal pace with Denua as they left the cathedral. His black carriage was gone. The guards were no longer two companies but one, encircling Evin, Denua, and her carriage.
He lifted Denua into her coach. Then he paused for effect, as he had been instructed to do. The advisor who had prepared Evin for his role had said the public liked to be “hit about the head” with something called “symbolism.”
“Enter, my husband,” Denua called in a loud voice, and he climbed into her carriage.
In a moment, guards boarded, the wings snapped out, and they lifted up to leave the cart and horses behind.
* * *
Later in the nuptial bed, Denua was like an animal, devouring Evin’s body in a way he hadn’t experienced in all the months since Gareth. He did his best to fulfill her, giving all he could to her pleasure, until she was unable to do more.
After, Denua was exhausted. She collapsed against Evin as he sat propped up with pillows against the head of their bed. She nestled her head into his shoulder and drowsed.
“I love you, Evin,” she said. “Like never with anyone before.”
“I know.”
“Why do I feel this way? I wish this could last forever.”
“I know. You’ve had to protect yourself for so long. You could never let yourself love.” He smoothed the hair tangled on her forehead. “I love you too, Denua.”
She rested for a few moments, enjoying the warmth of his body as hers cooled after her exertions. Just when she was nodding off, he spoke. “Denua, I’m sorry. I have to ask you some things. Tell me, the pendant you wear, it’s a key, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“To a vault here in the castle. Somewhere near where you killed the intruder.”
“Yes…” A vague, distant part of her wondered why she would admit these secrets to a lover.
“You are so powerful, Denua. You’ve kept the kingdom safe for so long.” His voice broke, and he said more weakly, “Thank you for everything you’ve done to protect…everyone.”
Why is he upset? “Oh no, don’t cry.” Warm teardrops fell into her hair.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Tell me what your goblet does.”
“Goblet…?” Somewhere within her, a feeling of alarm pulsed faintly.
“They’re different. One for me, one for you. Mine’s ensorceled. Drinking from it has muddled me these past months.”
Deep inside, far enough away that it didn’t matter, the feeling of alarm changed to a shout. She needed to get up and kill him. Kill him quickly. But she was cold, and his embrace was so very warm. And she needed to answer. “Keeps me young…”
“Ah,” Evin said. “And mine makes me adore you and obey you.”
Her eyes were so heavy now. She needed to close them for just a moment. “What have you done…?”
“What I had to do.” His wet face nuzzled in her hair. “For the handmaidens. And Gareth.”
“Monster…”
“He’s not the monster. You’re so cruel. No one near you is ever s-safe. The blood sorcelry, the children you take. You took my sister. Did you even know it? Or was the wine supposed to make me forget?”
“Elyrria needs—”
“We need to find our own way, now.”
“What have you…?”
“It doesn’t matter if you drink from the goblet. The wine changes when you put it in. I’ve been changing your wine for weeks so you have to love me. And obey me, at least a little.”
“No.”
Evin began to rub her arms to warm her. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t make you set him free, and there’s no way to stop you from taking the children.”
What had he done?
Why was she cold? She needed to—“See!”
“No, Denua. You mustn’t see. There’s nothing to see. Be content now and sleep.”
She was very sleepy. With a great effort of will, she opened her eyes again and saw their legs intertwined beneath the wrinkled folds of the sheets. There was nothing. She was safe in her lover’s arms, and she could sleep.
When Evin was sure Denua’s strength was gone, he reached into the wrappings on her hand, pulled out the tip of a cleansing wand, and dropped it behind the head of their bed. He had put it into her bandage to hide the effect of the medicine he had added to her wine today. Medicine to make blood thin like water, so it would never stop flowing from the hand-fasting wound.
Blood spread from her hand, over their bodies, and onto the sheets. He lay in the cooling pool with her for as long as it took. Her breathing slowed ever more.
When she was gone, he slid his body from under her weight and pulled aside the bloodstained sheet. He stared at her pendant for a moment, fearing to touch it—remembering Cydrich’s doom—then forced himself to remove it at once. With a sigh of relief, he wrapped it carefully around the top of his calf until he could just get the clasp to close and hold. He took her other jewelry—her shield, new sword, and other things he hadn’t managed to identify—and similarly secreted them on his person.
It would take time to figure out how everything worked, so he would wait to reach safety before trying any of it.
He leaned over to kiss Denua one more time, wetting her face with the last of his tears, then left the bed. He dragged on a pair of breeches and, shedding a trail of blood, ran to the door to shout for a healer.
Chapter Twenty-eight
In the first moments of confusion, Evin slipped away. He might fool the healers at first, but he knew Denua’s underlings would realize immediately that he had murdered her. They would think he hoped to inherit the throne. Wouldn’t they do the same, if they had figured out how? Evin wouldn’t wait for anyone to call guards.
He ducked into one of the servants’ passages and walked a few paces to a banner hanging on the wall. He lifted it to find two items tied and hanging from its back.
By touching the first item, a soberstone, he cleared away his love for Denua. Warmth washed through him, and grief evaporated. He had been using soberstones to do this for weeks, whenever the wine’s sorcelry made his love for her, his need to please her, too strong to control. Whenever it threatened to make him forget Gareth again.
Once his head was clear, he untied the second item, a cleansing wand, and used it to eliminate the drying blood from his person, touching it to places all over his body.
He moved deeper into the servants’ halls and, from there, up through the castle’s hidden labyrinth: a path that he had learned well over the past several days as he pretended to wander in aimless sorrow. Through secret passages and hidden stairs, he climbed to some of the highest floors of the castle.
Eventually he reached the tiny entrance of a dusty room holding objects stored and forgotten long ago. It was illuminated by an arched window on the far wall, just above a tall man’s height.
In the shadow beneath the window, luminous eyes opened, and Evin heard a gentle sigh of relief and happiness that pierced through him like an arrow of joy.
“It’s done,” he told Gareth as he raised his breeches leg to undo the clasp of Denua’s key pendant. “We need to hurry.”
Gareth stood and emerged from the shadows. He was shoeless, dressed only in a linen gown Evin had stolen for him.
Evin’s hands shook as he tried to undo the pendant’s clasp. His gaze kept turning to the small iron cage discarded like an evil hatbox in the corner of the room. It lay half open, but the in-turned spikes lining its interior no longer glistened. Dripping blood had dried days ago in a brown crust on the dusty floor. Evin was condemned by the thing’s presence. He would deserve the Lords’ punishment for ever touching it.
Together they filtered back down through the castle, two ghosts in the walls. When they reached the door to a servants’ hall near their destination, Evin relied on Gareth to sense when no witnesses would be near. Then they raced through the hall and made their way to the dead-end passage hung with tapestries.
Evin went to the tapestry that the intruding sorceler, the one Denua killed, had been inspecting. He lifted it to reveal a wall, featureless except for an indentation shaped exactly like Denua’s pendant. He gripped Gareth’s hand fiercely in one of his own and, with his other, slotted the key into the wall.
The wall’s white stone split, and each side rolled up like a scroll. Darkness within.
They glanced at one another; then Evin took back the key. They held hands and plunged through the closing wall, allowing the tapestry to fall back into place.
The vault was utterly black inside.
“Can you see?”
“Of course. I’ll look for something that might light up.”
“No, wait. Are there lots of things stored here?” Evin squeezed Gareth’s hand, not letting him go.
“All kinds. On shelves and tables. Weird stuff like in Cydrich’s tower.”
“Good. It’s the right place. I think we’re safe here. Denua would never trust anyone else with a key, and it will be impossible to get in without one.”
“Why don’t you want to see?”
“Because we’re safe for a few minutes. All of this is a risk. Denua could have trapped the key or the door or the floor, but we made it this far. Some of the devices in here could be trapped, even the lamps. I have her shield, but when I put it on, will it work or will it kill me?”
“So you’re afraid of all this stuff. Are we just going to hide here?”
“For a little while.”
“A little while.” Gareth’s hands led Evin a bit farther into the darkness. “Here’s a place we can sit together.”
When they were seated, Evin moved into Gareth’s lap. “Is this all right?”
Gareth’s answer was a savage kiss, their first in months. Evin wanted to melt into Gareth’s body, and by the feel of the arms crushing him in, the desire was mutual.
Evin said, “I was afraid to touch you while you regrew. You looked so… I was afraid I’d hurt you.”
“I missed you, Evin. I missed you so much!”
Evin kissed him again. He breathed Gareth’s scent and held tight. After so many betrayals, how could he ever hope to be worthy of the love and forgiveness that were offered freely, with no recrimination? He became frantic with his kisses on Gareth’s face and neck, wanting to demonstrate his love now, when it might be his only chance.
Cold hands pushed him away, and he was confused until he felt them working to untie his breeches. He put his hands on Gareth’s shoulders and waited for the ties to be undone, then stood briefly to take the breeches off. A rustle of fabric told him Gareth was discarding the gown.
Gareth’s hands guided him to sit back in Gareth’s lap. Their stiff cocks pressed together along their lengths, and Evin bent to lick Gareth’s nipples. He loved the sharp intake of breath as he tongued firmly around one of them. When he moved to the other, he brought a hand up to tweak and rub in the slickness he left behind. Gareth moaned, a deep mmmmmm sound that vibrated through Evin’s whole body. Mashed together like that, when Gareth’s cock began to drool, a dollop of liquid rolled down to touch the tip of Evin’s cock. Evin gasped because of its coolness, which made him focus on sensation there, and as the fluid flowed over the head, he was inflamed.
He put his hands around their joined flesh and returned to kissing Gareth on the mouth as he stroked them. They continued to make appreciative noises without separating.
Evin stroked up past his own tip until his hand was wrapped only around the end of Gareth’s cock. He used a thumb to rub firmly on the seam, where Gareth enjoyed it so much, and pulled away to say, “Can I have you inside me?”
“Yes!” Gareth’s voice was husky.
Evin put his hands on Gareth’s shoulders and lifted him
self into a standing position, then turned to fumble for the discarded breeches. A hand caressed his ass with slow, loving strokes. He smiled. Gareth was patient.
Evin turned back and held his cleansing wand out into the darkness. “Here, take this.”
“What is it?”
He lay down on his back and spread himself. “Touch me with it, and it will make me all clean.”
“You’re already clean; I can smell,” Gareth said, but he complied by stroking the wand up through Evin’s crack, over his balls. The tip, with its impossible, dry slickness, actually felt really good.
“Now put it into me. Slowly.”
“What? No!”
“Please. It’ll make me ready for you.”
After a moment, the weird, dry slickness of the wand’s stone touched his hole. “Go slow. Fish it in carefully.” The slickness forced him open and glided sweetly in. The tip was smaller than one of Gareth’s fingers, but it felt odd when Evin’s hole closed up around the wand’s shaft and the hard ball of the tip prodded inside him. “Slow…”
“Uh-huh.” Gareth’s voice was a tight growl.
“Hey. See if you can lick around the stick part and make it slick.”
When Gareth lowered his face, huffs of his breath tickled Evin’s ass. The wand’s tip danced and wiggled inside him as Gareth licked around his hole and wet down the wand’s shaft. “Okay, put it in more. Yes, slow.”
It was like two disconnected sensations. The smooth glide of the thin stick into his ass and the lump of the stone deep inside. There was a faint popping sensation, and the stone grazed him in a spot that made him gasp and jerk.
Gareth said, “Oh…you like that.”
“Deeper.” A little warm liquid gushed out of his cock, splat onto his stomach. Gareth wiggled the wand slowly in, and Evin writhed to feel the rock prod him inside. Fingers ran across his belly, gathering up the warm wetness; then they were in his mouth. Gareth was so good, stroking him inside with the wand and feeding him his own issue! He licked the thick fingers and sucked them passionately, hoping to communicate his gratitude.
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