“I’ll consult the generals. Schedule a pickup to bring me to Kilma,” he said, turning on his heel to head in the opposite direction. There was one thing he could do that might make him feel a little better. A way to leave a constant reminder to everyone here why it was best not to bother his Lissa.
“No need for the latter. I’ve already handled that. A ship will be here for you directly after the ceremony.” His words should have bothered Trystan, but instead he was smirking, because what he was planning would undoubtedly annoy the Rex.
“Of course, Father.”
CHAPTER 26
“You don’t have to be nervous,” Sanzie said at her left. She kept her gaze on the closed double doors ahead, her hands clasped behind her back.
“Doesn’t she?” Pettus mumbled from Delaney’s other side.
“This is tradition.” Sanzie sent him a sideways glare. “Nothing is going to go wrong. Besides, Lissa, you’ve met with the coordinator many times before. There’s nothing to fear now.”
It wasn’t Gailie who Delaney was afraid of, and they well knew it. The Rex was in there, along with Olena and a handful of others. Things tended not to go well for her when she partook in alien ceremonies in the presence of royalty.
“What’s with all the pomp, then?” She waved a hand at the doors. “Why can’t we just go in?”
“The Rex insists this be done right,” Sanzie said, a hint of apology in her tone. She’d braided her hair back, the look giving her a stronger air.
A chime sounded from within the room, and before Delaney could sigh in relief, the doors slowly eased inward. The Ice Dome had been decorated with silver, gold, and bronze streamers dripping down in curls from the curved ceiling. Where the table usually sat there were now two high-backed chairs. People were already seated in rows of stone benches that had been set to the left of the room, and a dozen or so Tellers lined the dome.
Trystan was standing in front of one of the chairs, dressed in his best Kint uniform. The dermal stone on his arm caught the sunlight from one of the glass walls, glinting at her momentarily as if in silent reminder why they were here.
“You’re pale,” he pointed out through their fittings as she approached, holding up a hand to take hers when she was close.
“Nerves,” she admitted. Twisting so that she was positioned in front of the second chair, she looked out over the audience and felt even more anxious.
Olena was sitting next to the Rex on his right, and to his left was the Rue she’d met weeks ago, Rantan. One of the members of the high council who’d virtually attended that first meeting was there as well, but she couldn’t recall her name.
“Are there usually so many people here?” she asked, schooling her features.
Gailie stepped up to them, appearing from the side somewhere. She was holding a small square tray, six boxes set on its crystal clear surface. It was placed before both chairs, in the center so that they’d have easy access, then she bowed and stepped away.
“Typically it’s only our close relatives,” Trystan answered as he gripped her hand tighter, signaling they could be seated. He waited until they’d both sat before adding, “Of course, that wasn’t good enough for my father. He insisted we have more witnesses.”
“Does he believe in the superstition?”
“He’s always found this ceremony pointless and vastly overrated. A few years ago he actually tried to have it removed from traditional bonding preparations, but our people rejected the idea.”
“Bet he loved that.”
Trystan’s lips curved up in a half smile, but he didn’t reply. Instead he reached for one of the boxes on his side of the table and brought it to her. It was shaped like a triangle and covered in honey-toned paper.
“Pie crust,” she said before she could help it, knowing exactly what had attracted him to this particular gift. She accepted it, her fingers tentatively peeling back the wrapping. The actual box beneath was white, and the top popped off easily to expose a heavy green stone.
“Growth,” Gailie announced as soon as she saw it, holding her hands palm up as she spoke to the room. “This union will be blessed with ever-strengthening connection. As you each grow personally, you’ll also grow together. It’s a sign of deep friendship and increasing happiness.”
Delaney tried not to let on how uncomfortable that prediction made her.
“Place the box at your feet,” Trystan said, “and then select one of the ones you’ve chosen for me.”
She did, glad to be rid of a stone that supposedly meant they’d have a long, happy life together. The squa-colored gift was the closest, and she snatched it up and held it out to him, wanting to get this whole thing over with. They’d already gotten one “good” sign via the green stone, and while she didn’t necessarily want negative doomsday items to show up next, she also didn’t want more indicators of a lengthy binding.
Delaney wasn’t buying in to the idea that these things actually told the future, but there was part of her forced to acknowledge there was a lot she still didn’t know or understand.
Inside the box with the brown paper was a small object made out of twisted silver. There was a line of bronze straight through the center, forming a K, and at either end was a small polished ruby. It was a bracelet, with an opening wide enough for him to easily slip it onto his left wrist, which he did as soon as Gailie got a look at it.
“Solidity,” the coordinator declared brightly. “You’ll have a solid bond. You’ll be able to rely on each other, always.”
Trystan handed her his second gift, this one purple with silver swirling patterns on it. The tips of his fingers brushed against hers as he passed it over, and his pupils dilated. She couldn’t tell whether he was pleased with the items already opened.
This box was ovular, and within, nestled against black velvet, was what appeared to be a single piece of white chocolate sprinkled with silver glitter. It was in the shape of a flower, with sharp points at the ends of its rounded petals, and small enough to fit in the center of her palm.
“It’s edible,” Trystan informed her.
Assuming it was sweet, Delaney broke off one of the petals and offered it to him. She’d done it without thinking, but it might have been the wrong move, for the crowd gasped.
Worried she’d just messed the whole thing up, she glanced questioningly at him, only to find him smirking at her.
Without a word, he leaned over and took the piece from her fingers. With his mouth.
“Romance.” Gailie clapped her hands. “Your binding will be filled with many sweet moments.”
Fantastic.
Delaney set the rest of the chocolatelike thing back into the box and placed it carefully on the ground next to the green stone. She couldn’t help but glare at them a little before picking up her second selection.
Trystan made quick work of the red package, smiling at her a second time as he did. Inside was a smooth reddish-orange stone in the shape of a half-moon. When he held it up to the sunlight, flecks of green sparkled like stars.
“Secrets,” Gailie announced. “Those kept and held close. You’ll confide in each other, shield each other.”
Trystan dropped the box to the ground, but Delaney saw him discreetly slip the stone into his front pocket. She gave him a questioning look, but he was already holding out his final gift.
They were so close to being finished, she didn’t bother pausing to admire the bright green wrapping, tearing through it to the brown package within. The lid on this one had a hinge, and she lifted it to find a piece of folded paper.
Frowning, she took it and unfolded it, not recognizing the bold design drawn in thick black lines.
“Our word for possibility,” Gailie said, and it was clear she explained it like that for Delaney’s benefit. “Written down because, like paper, possibilities are fragile. Chances don’t always last.”
“What does that mean for us?” Delaney asked.
Gailie wasn’t annoyed by the question, her expressio
n softening. “It means your relationship will be ever changing, with a thousand different possible outcomes. Don’t worry—when added to the rest of the items already here, it leans in a good direction.”
There was only the one gift left, and her hand hovered over it for a split second. It was the yellow one, the one she’d chosen with a bit of defiance in mind. With Ruckus in mind. After everything that had taken place since, it felt a little wrong, especially with all these witnesses.
She gave it to Trystan and immediately saw that even if the others didn’t, he knew why she’d done it. It took all her willpower, but she didn’t look away. Things were different between them, sure, but she’d made it clear the other night, and by giving him this, she was making it clear again. She loved Ruckus, and there was no reason for her to feel guilty or ashamed about that fact.
Trystan peeled the paper on this one like it was physically hot to the touch, burning him every time he made contact. He discarded it onto the ground as soon as it was off the box, flipping off the cover in the same impatient manner.
She couldn’t see inside of it right away, but his stiffening spine and tight expression clued her in that whatever was there, it wasn’t good.
Gailie stepped forward to see for herself when he didn’t immediately offer it up for her inspection. At first her expression mirrored his, but it quickly morphed into confusion. Her gaze shot across the room toward the Rex, an indecipherable question in her eyes that had Delaney’s blood chilling.
What was going on?
The look the two of them shared didn’t last long, though it was apparent a silent message had been exchanged. When Gailie turned back, her face was white as a ghost, and her hands shook slightly where she had them clasped against her stomach.
“Disruption,” she called, voice quavering. She had to clear her throat before she could continue. “There will be an uncompromising obstacle. Possibly a death or”—she licked her lips—“betrayal.”
Whispers broke out across the room, and while she’d made a point of ignoring Olena, Delaney now found her eyes drawn to her.
Out of everyone there, she was the only person currently smirking.
Trystan shifted, finally snapping out of whatever had come over him.
The item in the box was now visible to Delaney, and when she saw it, she couldn’t help but frown.
It was a golden statue of a lizard-type creature, no bigger than Trystan’s pinky finger. The thing had been created with great detail, showcasing the pointed talons and long front fangs. The tail was curved slightly, the outer edge thin and sharp. A knife.
Delaney felt herself grow cold. Even though she’d just gotten done telling herself she didn’t believe in any of this, a flash of fear ran through her. She’d chosen that item because of Ruckus, not Trystan. Did that mean … No. She refused to believe in this nonsense. A few random items wrapped in boxes did not foretell her and Ruckus’s future.
Her eyes trailed over to Trystan, expecting to see satisfaction written across his face. He’d known she’d picked that box with Ruckus in mind the second he’d seen it. Initial reaction aside, he had to be feeling pretty smug right about now. And why wouldn’t he?
Except that wasn’t what she saw when she met his gaze. He was no longer stiff, sure, and there was a glimmer of curiosity coming off him, but he wasn’t rubbing it in her face. That could be because of their audience, and yet she didn’t think it was.
If he didn’t feel the need to gloat, there had to be a reason. Like perhaps, the one Ruckus had presented to her himself. Trystan was never going to let her go.
And if he thought there was already no possible way she and Ruckus would end up together, then why bother rubbing the proof of that in her face when it appeared? Even as literally gift-wrapped as this particular “proof” was.
Co Gailie had grown silent, her gaze dropped to the ground, brow furrowed. The rest of the room was still filled with harsh whispers.
“Enough,” Trystan’s voice boomed out, instantly silencing everyone. If he noticed his father’s annoyed look, he ignored it. He slammed the lid back on the box and stood, dropping it with a heavy thump to the floor in the process. “We aren’t yet finished.”
“That was the last gift, son,” the Rex reminded him. “And I can’t say any of us are pleased with the results.”
“It leaves questions,” Rantan chimed in, “certainly. The last time that particular item was given at a royal Unveiling, the couple met with a dastardly end.”
Delaney made a sound in the back of her throat, drawing their unwanted attention. Once she had it, she was forced to voice her thoughts, hoping she didn’t accidentally make things worse by doing so.
“You can’t honestly believe in this stuff, right?” No one offered up a reply, and she shook her head. “Come on. It’s a piece of metal in a box I randomly picked. It doesn’t mean anything.”
It couldn’t.
“Some would argue otherwise,” stated the high council member she didn’t recall the name of.
“I said enough,” Trystan reminded them, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. He motioned toward the two Tellers guarding the doors, who yanked them open to admit a tall gray-haired man.
The man was carrying a navy pillow in both hands, with a pearly white box at the center. His heels clicked lightly against the stone floor as he entered, keeping his chin up and eyes lowered the entire walk over to them. He bowed and presented the pillow to the Zane, holding the position as if he’d just been turned to stone.
“What is this?” the Rex demanded, rising from his seat. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his hands clenched into tight fists.
His sudden burst of anger caught everyone else off guard, and both the Rue and the high council member stared at him in surprise.
“It’s the Claiming ceremony,” Trystan said in the most matter-of-fact tone imaginable. He took the offered box and turned to Delaney, pointing over her shoulder. “I had yours brought as well.”
She glanced behind her and found Sanzie holding the same bowed position as the man on Trystan’s other side. Slowly, she got to her feet, taking the similar box from the top of the bloodred pillow the Sworn held.
He hadn’t mentioned anything about this the other night at dinner. They were only supposed to exchange gifts and then leave. The sudden change made her skin feel prickly, and that, coupled with what had just happened, made her want to throw up a little.
By the time she’d swiveled back around to him, Trystan had already opened his box, and her breath caught in her throat.
It was a necklace with a circular pendant the size of a half-dollar. The ring was a few centimeters thick, silver, with dozens of different-sized blue gems. The stones winked when he removed the necklace, letting it dangle from his curved fingers so she could get a better look.
“Allow me,” he whispered, catching her gaze, silently telling her what he wanted.
She hesitated but ended up turning back around so he could link the chain around her neck. The pendant hung directly between her breasts, but it felt lighter than she’d expected.
“Trystan,” the Rex growled, even more displeased now than he’d been only a moment prior. “This is not the way of things.”
“It’s the way I wanted it, Father,” he challenged him, then caught Delaney’s eye again. “I didn’t want to leave without having done this first. Without making it clear to everyone that you and I are already spoken for.”
Her immediate thought was that he’d done it to further tie her to him, to trap her. But despite how badly she wanted to, she couldn’t hold on to that line of thinking. The truth was too obvious, aided only by how upset he’d just made the Rex.
Trystan was doing this to give her added protection. It was his weird way of keeping her safe while he was away in Kilma.
“Delaney.”
She’d been standing there, staring at him, but at the sound of her name off his lips, her hands moved to open the box she held. She was so distracted by h
er thoughts, she barely gave the item inside a glance as she held it out to him.
Trystan lifted another necklace from the box, this one done in Earth colors, bronze with red stones. Seeing as how she’d have to stand on the chair to be able to put it on him, he didn’t ask, slipping it over his head himself. The second it settled on his chest, he pressed his palm against it protectively, as if needing to feel it, ensure it was close.
Gailie, who’d been deathly quiet up until this point, suddenly shook her head, coming out of her daze, and took a shaky breath.
“Symbols exchanged, promises made.” She waved at them. “From here on out, let the world know these two are set and tied.”
Trystan hooked a finger gently into the loop of her necklace, curving around the ring and tugging to urge her closer.
She moved to prevent the chain from chafing the back of her neck, dread already starting to crawl up her spine.
When he took up her hand and brought it to the pendant he wore, she knew with certain clarity what was going to happen next. For some reason, the other night, even though it’d been so clear that he’d wanted to, he’d stopped himself from kissing her.
He wasn’t going to stop now.
“We’re going to have to—”
“Yeah,” she cut him off, not wanting to hear him say the actual words.
Trystan lowered his head, and her finger tightened on the ring around his neck in preparation. His free hand went to her hip, gently resting there so he could pull her close enough that she felt his front press against her own. Once he was sure she was staying put, he brought that same hand to her face, tipping her chin back to give him better access.
She stood frozen, emotions warring with her mind over what to do, how to feel. Part of her wanted to pull away before it could go any further, the implications of doing so in front of their current audience be damned. The other part of her wouldn’t budge.
They’d been doing this dance forever, far longer than just the past month. Even when she’d pretended to be Olena, there’d been this terrifying chemistry between them. It’d been purely physical, and frightening because he’d been the monstrous Zane threatening everything she cared about.
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