by E. M. Havens
Just when he thought this Alliance couldn’t be any worse, his father failed him this one last splendid time. The King could be as disappointed in him as he wanted. It was his fault Cole was put in this position anyway. Slag him. Slag it all.
****
Perfect. In every way expected, Samantha was perfect. She should be. Her mother had seen to it that every waking and non-waking moment since childhood became an opportunity for refinement of her character or her appearance. She examined herself in the massive mirror that occupied the corner of the room. The opulent space had been provided for her and the entourage that was helped to ready her for the wedding. Now sufficiently tucked, tied, painted and powdered they all left her for a few moments to herself. The mirror had been covered with a bed sheet, as seeing yourself on your wedding day brought bad luck, but how much worse could it get. She broke the rule and smiled at her flawless reflection. Almost flawless. Her eyes were missing something. The stylists couldn’t figure it out, but Samantha knew. Her face smiled, but her eyes wouldn’t. No amount of makeup would change that.
She took in her perfectly formed curves encased in her wedding dress. It was a work of art, so she was told. She couldn’t even begin to guess the yards of white fabric that formed the bustle. Not to mention the copious amounts of lace along the fairy type sleeves and hems. It showed just enough cleavage to be proper, but she wasn’t sure anyone would notice, as their gazes would surely be focused on the shiny silver boning of the corset, or the sparkle of the sapphires embedded throughout.
Voices echoed from down the hall, and she imagined her mother walking in at this moment to see her in the mirror. She would probably faint. For an instant Samantha’s eyes matched her smile, a twinkle of laughter creeping into the corners, but she dropped the sheet back over the mirror, sparing her mother the horror.
Queen Adella entered the room with a flourish as always, dressed head to toe in Perspician blue. Her mother’s curves were perfect too. There were just much more of them, and her dark hair was curled and pinned in a heap like Samantha’s. A blue peacock feather protruded from her nest of brown curls at an angle. The Queen clutched a white handkerchief and dabbed at moisture on her cheeks periodically.
“My little girl,” she sobbed and began checking her over. For a moment Samantha thought her mother might hug her.
“Today,” her mother began and continued to fluff the wedding dress here and there. “is so very, very important.” The queen moved on to straightening Samantha’s voluminous hair. “Our country is depending on you.”
Samantha had managed to keep her nerves in check so far, but this encouragement from her mother threatened her resolve. Queen Adella, apparently satisfied with her daughter’s appearance, finally looked her in the eyes and spoke. “I know this has been hard for you, will be hard for you.”
Samantha thought she might have seen a hint of compassion, or regret. She wasn’t sure as her mother looked away quickly hiding the evidence. The Queen recovered and continued sternly. “But you must fulfill your duty Samantha. You have had your training, and I expect…your country expects, that you will act the proper wife and princess. If you fail in this and the Alliance dissolves…” Not finishing the sentence reminded Samantha of all that was at stake.
“Yes, mother. I know,” she said sincerely.
“It’s time.”
Queen Adella led Samantha to the anteroom. She distracted herself by concentrating on the rich tapestries and carpets that warmed the cold stone castle walls and floors. The growing rumble of organ music threaded into her concerted efforts as they approached. She saw her father, also in Perspician blue, waiting in the foyer. A sapphire studded crown held his graying hair flat to his head. His slender arms beckoned an embrace and a fond smile wrinkled his face. He said nothing, but placed a gentle kiss on her forehead as he embraced her.
Samantha tried to feel comforted. The organ music ended, and a loud authoritative voice announced, “King Augustus and Queen Adella of Perspicia”. He released her, and patted her hand. The Queen took his arm, and they entered the throne room. The applause caused Samantha to start. The room must have been larger than she imagined and held more people than she expected.
The nerves she worked diligently to settle mutinied. She fought to keep her breathing deep and regular as her heart fluttered so fast she couldn’t distinguish individual beats. Her vision threatened to desert. The Wedding March began, and the announcer called, “Princess Samantha of Perspicia!”
Just walk. Just walk, she told herself. Incredibly her feet followed orders. She reached the massive doors of the throne room and saw thousands of eyes peering at her. She wavered. The low murmurs and awes of spectators did nothing but urge retreat. Her only hope was to block out everything, and just walk. Her searching eyes fell to the figure at the end of the red carpeted aisle. She may as well focus on him. He was only one person after all and the man who would be her husband.
She was glad for the requirement to walk slowly, because she had to convince her legs to move one at a time. She kept her gaze locked on Prince Cole, and her heartbeat mostly returned to normal. From this distance, she could see his willowy form clad in red, Arboreal red. Though slender, he did not look frail. On the contrary, as she gained ground she could see he had quite pronounced arms and chest. Perhaps it was just padding in the jacket.
Closer now, she could make out some of his finer features. His light brown hair was too long and hung to his ears on either side. She couldn’t decide if she should be offended or amused. She knew he was twenty-eight but he looked much younger. His sharp jaw line was the first thing she noticed about his face and then his slightly crooked nose. She wondered how it was broken. Then she could see his lips. They made a thin line across his face. He didn’t smile. She broadened hers hoping he would be pleased with her appearance, but his rigid stance remained as she took the last steps to closed the space between them. His brow furrowed between his eyes. His eyes! She had never seen such intriguing eyes. The outer edges started light blue, and the inside edge was green. In between, was a mist of blues and greens that reminded her of the ocean surrounding her home.
She supposed he was handsome. The quintessential Prince Charming. He probably had a white horse too. But she didn’t feel that feeling. The thing she assumed she would feel when she first saw him. She imagined it as an inflowing of air and a warmth settling on her heart. It just wasn’t there. She hoped the disappointment didn’t show. The thought of that feeling had given her some faith that there might be some happiness in this for her.
He took her arm, and she stood beside her prince, all hope gone.
****
Cole had watched his bride walk slowly down the aisle. Her dress reflected the soft candle light in sparks of blue and silver. It was a stunning dress even to his uncaring eye. The silver corset drew attention to her waist. It was hard to believe that any human could have a waist that small. He was fairly certain her perfect curves, rather fashionably perfect curves, were an optical illusion created by the bustle, corset and bustier. She was of average height but the piles of golden curls atop her head added to it. He took a deep breath and tried to keep an open mind.
As she progressed down the aisle he had seen her face, or at least what she presented as her face. Layers of powder made her pale, and rouge applied in tight circles at her cheeks to implied health. He wasn’t sure the shape of her lips as they had been covered and reshaped as had her eyes. He finally discerned their color, a quite alluring green.
It was then he realized his stupidity. If he could put himself in the stocks right now he would do it. Maybe a good lashing would be better. Perhaps he hadn’t changed as much as he thought over the years. Since the announcement of the Alliance and the impending marriage a few months ago, he had thought of nothing but how miserable his life was going to be. Not once had he thought about how Samantha might feel, but her eyes told him everything. She was sad and afraid. Here he stood with a scowl on his face, proving nothing excep
t what a slagging ashpan he was.
He tried to put away his selfishness and smile. He must have done a convincing job because as he took her arm to approach the priest, her eyes softened just a bit in relief, though he could feel her trembling slightly next to him. The rumbling organ music ceased, and the room became reverently quiet.
The priest droned on about commitment and duty, then finally had them face each other. Though they stared straight at each other there was no connection. She looked through him, and he looked through her. He had hoped, that possibly, there might be some spark between them.
Cole repeated his part of the ceremony and placed a golden band with a blue gemstone on her finger. Samantha parroted the priest, and though he stood next to her he could barely hear her soft voice. She shakily placed his signet ring on his appropriate finger.
The priest pronounced them man and wife, and the kingdoms were united.
“You may now kiss your bride.”
Cole stooped without hesitation and pressed his lips to her unyielding ones. He might as well have kissed Octavious. No, Octavious would have probably tried to kiss back just a little. He didn’t blame her though, and the audience didn’t care. Both Kingdoms had waited years for a resolution that would bring about the Alliance, and for them, this moment sealed the deal.
“I present to you Prince Cole and Princess Samantha of the Arboreal Lands!”
The presentation could hardly be heard as the crowd erupted in cheering and applause. Cole and Samantha walked arm in arm back down the aisle to shouts of jubilation and showers of flower petals. They were wearing his and her counterfeit smiles. Once in the antechamber both resumed their solemn expressions. Cole continued their slow march leading her to their next destination. While the guests believed that the wedding ceremony and the kiss solidified the Alliance, there were still some legal matters that must be attended to. Knowing what would soon follow he decided to try and put her at ease some.
“So…Hello.” Oh, God that was clinker! He had no idea what to say. He had never had problems talking to women before. Of course he had never been married to one before either. Maybe it was harder.
“Hello.” She gave him a weak smile.
“I saw your air ship this afternoon. It was quite remarkable from the ground.”
“Hmmm. Yes, quite remarkable from the air, too.”
“Do you enjoy traveling by air?” Okay, Cole. Keep it going.
“I suppose.”
“Would you have preferred by sea and steam engine then?”
“I’m not certain. Whatever method that is most convenient would suffice.”
Cole tried to hide his frustration. Why couldn’t she just answer the question? He tried again. “Have you traveled far from Perspicia before?”
“I have lived the last five years at Madam Lamont Finishing School for Ladies on the west coast of the Arboreal Lands.”
“That’s not too far from your home, just across the channel. Did you enjoy your time there?”
“I suppose.”
Cole could have and probably would have begun to engage her in more productive conversation. He rather prided himself in his ability to bring out the best in a woman. But his time was up. They had reached his bedchamber. He suppressed a shudder as they entered. The time for Verification was at hand.
Samantha couldn’t find a place to look. She couldn’t look at the bed. She did for a moment when her mother placed the Verification Cloth. That was when the shuddering began. Clenching her jaw so hard her teeth creaked, she held the shivering at bay. She couldn’t look at the other end of the room where ten men were seated in two rows. She recognized the generals and several commanders by their uniforms, both red and blue. The rest were nobles from the various provinces of either kingdom. Bile burned her throat knowing what they were here to witness.
She couldn’t look at Cole. He was angry again. She answered his questions as she was supposed to. She felt she had indicated in every way her deference to him and his wishes, but her new husband was frustrated instead of pleased. Now she felt the waves of heated anger radiating from him. His fascinating eyes were smoldering coals between the valley of his brow. That stare could wither her to ash.
The panic was coming. She felt it growing and knowing it was coming escalated its advancement. She had to move her feet. She needed to walk. No, she needed to run. She looked for a place to run to, but there was nowhere. No escape. She had to get away. A scream of unbridled terror built in her stomach, threatening her polished composure. Her heart began its violent fluttering, and the room shifted beneath her feet. She gripped Cole’s arm to steady herself, but she dared not look to those fiery eyes. His rigid arm centered her.
Now breathe!
With nowhere to look, she closed her wild eyes. She evicted any and every image from her mind replacing them with deeper and deeper blackness. This was the only way, to see and feel nothing. Breathe!
The irritating drone of the court official reading the entirety of the Alliance Pact was pushed out of her senses too. She heard only the frantic beat of her heart and her measured breath. Breathe in. Breathe out. Heart beat. Nothing. Except that smell. That smell was good so she kept it. It was like herbs and sunshine. The earth after a rain. Like a garden maybe, but more potent. The smell could stay.
The shakes tried to return, and she pushed them away to nothing. The bile tried to rise, and she swallowed it down to nothing. The scream tried to escape, but she strangled it to nothing. She was nothing. She was emptiness, darkness and the smell of serenity.
Breathe.
****
Cole had read the Alliance Pact. He knew that the stooped, wrinkled official regurgitating it now was almost done. Nine words. He had wanted to omit the last nine words of The Pact, and his father refused. If Cole’s glare projected steam, his father would be relinquished of his flesh by now.
King Arnold’s stare was just as potent, their eyes locked in an unyielding battle. His father ground the tip of his ebony wood cane in the ground hard enough to spark a fire.
He had asked. He had debated. He had pleaded and finally begged that this ritual be eliminated from the pact. He had even called a meeting. He had called a meeting in which he was told there would be concessions. They led Cole to believe there would be no Panel for the Verification. They lied. This whole charade was absurd. How in the hell did it make a difference? Why couldn’t the document, signatures and Cloth be enough? Why did there even have to be a slagging Cloth!?
“…sealed with the Verification Cloth exhibiting Blood and Fluid as witnessed by a Panel of ten noble men.” The frail clerk looked up from The Pact, which was more book than document, and signaled Cole and Samantha. “If you will.” He croaked and swept a hand toward the prepared bed. “And then we will obtain the required signatures.”
The jangle of metal drew his attention as King Augusta and Queen Adella of Perspicia both removed golden chains from their necks. Cole’s heart and stomach switched locations. He knew what hung at the end of those chains before they appeared, and he couldn’t believe it. He never imagined that such a vile practice was still in use. He searched the faces of those in attendance to see some hint of outrage or shock, but quiet complacency was all that met his gaze. Cole’s anger dissipated and was replaced by repugnance for all in the room.
Queen Adella handed Cole the chain. He took it as one would a coiled snake, and his eyes followed the length of it to a key. He had heard stories, over a decade ago of a Verification in which a chastity belt had been used on the poor girl, and it was a scarce practice then. When removed, the smell had been revolting, stinking of rotten flesh and waste. Fortunately it had only been on her for a few months. He had heard tales of the devices being put in place at a young age causing deformities from growth restriction and permanent scars. He stared at the tarnished key, still unbelieving.
Queen Adella moved to Princess Samantha and began to unsnap fastenings on the wedding dress. The bustle came away, and she lowered it to the f
loor. Samantha now stood serenely in a flowing, unencumbered gown. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed slowly and deeply, but Cole could see her every heartbeat pulsing along the side of her neck. She must be terrified. He didn’t want to do this.
As discreetly as possible, Queen Adella lifted the flowing gown. Cole tried not to gasp when Samantha’s legs were exposed. They were so thin, morbidly so. A little further, and the chastity belt was revealed. It was the same tarnished bronze color as the key. It seemed smaller and a better fit than he had imagined them, but it could only yield the same results.
King Augusta placed his key in a slot on the Princess’ hip. With an icy sense of foreboding pumping through his veins, Cole placed his key on the hip closest to him. Samantha stood perfectly still, eyes closed as before. They both turned their keys with simultaneous clinks. Nothing happened for a moment, and then a quick ratcheting sound began. Cole assumed the belt would break into two whole pieces but instead, tiny rectangular blocks began to recede from the hips toward the center. In moments his key was free, and the device continued to withdraw. It happened quickly, but before the Queen lowered Samantha’s dress, Cole saw that there was no damage to her flesh. For that he was relieved.
Queen Adella removed her hand from under the dress revealing the palm sized bronze contraption resembling an open sea shell. She offered it to Cole with a satisfied smile. His blistering glare was now for her. How could a mother subject her child, her daughter, to this debasement? He refused to take it, and finally the Queen relented. She, along with her husband, exited the room. A courtesy? No, cowards.
Cole was not certain how to proceed, but since Samantha’s hand had not left his arm since their vows he simply walked toward the bed. She opened her eyes when he moved forward and followed him. She relinquished his arm, then turned and sat on the side of the bed. With grace and poise, she positioned herself to lie on The Cloth. She pulled the heavy blankets to her chin, and he watched her slight movements as she made the appropriate arrangements. Without looking at him, she nodded. A shivering wave passed through her body, then she stilled.
