She was his chosen.
Just as he was hers.
And the beauty in it wasn’t lost to her.
She didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to pull away from him, but her resolve was weakening and they were needed elsewhere. “Olivar,” she began, trying to calm her rapid heartbeat, trying to regain some sense. “Bendan and Alindra will be waiting.”
He brought his forehead to hers as he fought to collect himself, and he forced himself to release her, though he did not seem entirely able, tucking her hand neatly into his. “I know,” he answered regretfully. “I did not... I had not imagined how it would feel for you to say the words.”
She grasped his hand a little more firmly in hers, leaning her head against his arm and hugging it to her. “I had not known how it might feel to say them.”
She felt him place another kiss to the top of her head, and then another, before he groaned softly. “Bendan will be very far ahead by now,” he complained.
Ness opened her mouth to apologise, as she had caused the delay, but she closed it again just as quickly. She wasn’t sorry, and she wouldn’t pretend otherwise.
“Alindra will distract him, I think,” she said instead, Olivar not bothering to quicken their pace as they continued on to the harnel.
Olivar smiled. “I am... more than pleased that she finally accepted him,” he admitted.
Ness wanted to ask him what he thought Alindra had meant about why she had taken so long, but she decided against it. Alindra was to be her friend, had made it very clear that she wished to be so, and part of that would be sharing things directly.
If it was important enough, Ness would ask her, and if she wished it known, Alindra would tell her.
Though it couldn’t be so great a secret if she had mentioned part of it in their presence already.
More people hurried by them as they walked, Ness’s nervousness mounting as they rushed past. She looked to Olivar for confirmation that everything was all right, but even he looked curious about their strange behaviour.
“Is something wrong, do you think?” she posed as another few hurried their steps, though this time they gave Olivar and Ness a smile as they did so.
“I am... not certain,” Olivar confessed. “I would wonder if a fire had broken out, but there is no smoke.”
They came to the final street, the harnel situated toward the end, Olivar’s stride faltering when they caught sight of the many people standing outside the doors.
Ness stopped too, and it was only at Olivar’s tugging at her hand that she could move again, whatever bravery she had mustered seeming suddenly very far away.
“It is... busy,” she stated unnecessarily. “Is it always so?”
She peeked up at Olivar, and his expression was an odd one. He swallowed before answering her, and if she was not terribly mistaken, he seemed strangely moved by the people clustered about.
“No,” he said at last. “I believe they might be here for us.”
Nothing in his voice suggested that as a threat, and she had to tamp down on her own suspicions that it might be. She would trust Olivar, trust his people, and not cloud their doings with her own experience.
That did not stop her from gripping his hand more tightly, and he glanced back at her. “All is well, Ness,” he assured her. “No need to be nervous, just as I told you before.”
She nodded, though it was hard when she felt the urge to hide away again. It was not so long ago that she thought these people her new masters, and to now willingly go amongst so many of them...
She found a measure of fresh resolve and clung to it. They weren’t masters, weren’t strange and elusive mistresses. They were her husband’s people, sweet and generous in their manner, and she would be equally so. Or at least try to be.
There was a loud holler when someone caught sight of their approach, the rest of the people making a loud noise in turn, and she would have been truly frightened at it if they were not close enough to see the wide smiles on their faces.
The group parted when they approached, allowing them room to go through the door. She did not expect for hands to reach out, not pulling, not hurting in any way, simply brushing against them as they passed. She glanced at them, startled and a little wary even though she tried to hide that as best she could.
These were his people—her people—and she was not going to treat them with suspicion when all but a select few had shown her nothing but kindness.
The door opened, and the room was nearly full, bright, smiling faces urging them inward. Rol came forward and gave Olivar a hearty pat, Olivar’s lurch heightening her relief when that gesture seemed relegated only for him. “You wasted no time,” Rol declared. “You all right, little one?” he asked, turning to her and some of his levity fading. “You gave us quite the scare yesterday, and now to hear that you were coming to announce...”
Archel appeared tugging him backward. “Give them room,” he groused.
Rol glared at him, and Ness cut in before their argument could become genuine. “I am very well now,” she assured them. She looked about the crowded room, eyes looking at her expectantly, and she could not help but ask about it. “How did you know to come?”
Rol smirked. “Next time you wish to surprise us, you perhaps should not discuss your intention in the middle of the road. Especially with Bendan.”
“Oy!”
Ness turned and saw Bendan and Alindra seated at a table, Alindra gesturing for them to come and take the two empty seats.
Rol seemed entirely unperturbed by Bendan’s outrage. “It is true, as you well know. It cannot be an insult if it is truthful.”
Ness doubted that, and Bendan seemed to agree for his glare was a potent one. “Maybe I shall ask you to leave before I make my own announcement with Linnie,” he threatened.
Said new wife gave his arm a nudge. “You will do no such thing,” she insisted, patting Ness’s arm as she sat beside her. “I did not expect so many,” Alindra confessed, though she did not appear displeased by it. Ness was glad for Olivar’s sake, and for Bendan and Alindra, but she rather thought a smaller assembly would have suited her just fine, but she said nothing on the matter.
The room quieted when the Caern entered, and the gnawing worry in Ness’s stomach grew all the more persistent. She hadn’t thought of him being there, of him bearing witness as well, and she felt Olivar’s hand squeezing hers in comfort. He did not offer platitudes, did not give assurances again that had already been given, and that was just as well.
She had chosen to trust Olivar, and she would trust his people. And that included their leader.
Olivar must have chosen to take advantage of the silence for he stood, his hand still tucked around hers. She didn’t know if she was meant to stand as well, but she did not like the added disparity between their heights so she did so.
The Caern found a seat toward the back, and though she could feel him watching, she was grateful that he was partially obscured and she would have to try to look at him—something she did not intend to do. Not if she wanted her voice to keep from shaking when the time came.
She did not know exactly what she expected. Masters often had spoken to a grouping of thralls, generally insulting, demeaning narratives that served only to disgrace the listener. Perhaps she thought it would be longer, there would be questions posed by those in the harnel, that she and Olivar would have to prove themselves before the people before they would be accepted as wedded.
But Olivar merely stood, her hand tucked in his, as he looked at her so softly, his voice raised only slightly. “I am pleased, humbled, and honoured to announce that Ness has become my wife.” He should have spoken the words in the Onidaen tongue, but true to how he had always been, he chose them so she could understand, that nothing would be hidden from her, even if it meant that some of his people could not.
The silence lingered, and she realised they were waiting on her for confirmation, and though her heart still raced, though throat tightened for suc
h attention to all be on her...
The words came when she sought them.
No matter how impossible it might be, no matter how incredible, it was true all the same.
He was her chosen. Her husband. For he had chosen her in return.
Her voice did not waver, even if it did not resonate as his had done. But it helped that she directed the words solely to him, and that made her nervousness bearable, if only just.
And when she’d finished, there was a joyful whoop that startled her greatly, and a great many hands rapped at the tables while feet stomped upon the floor, and Ness watched with widened eyes, wondering at the commotion.
Olivar’s laugh comforted her, but more so when he brought her into his arms, kissing her cheek with a smile still playing at his lips. “That is all you shall get from us,” Olivar declared to the crowd, sitting back in his chair and, to her surprise, bringing her with him.
She did not mind sitting with him so, especially when it made it easier to hide the redness infusing her cheeks at the prolonged attention, and she found herself grateful when Bendan stood, casting a quick look at her before he came and leaned down, whispering near her ear.
“I will distract them, little sister,” he assured her, and though she did not quite know what he meant by that, she was grateful for his attention to her needs.
“Now?” Alindra asked when he came back to her, and before he gave her any more time to prepare, he was already speaking.
“My brother obviously has extraordinarily little patience, otherwise he would not have stolen the very day when I would have made my own declaration that Linnie-”
“Alindra,” said woman cut in sharply, her eyes narrowing at the crowd. Evidently not everyone was permitted to use Bendan’s favoured shortening, and Ness made note of that, not wishing to give offence.
“Linnie,” Bendan continued with a smirk at his new wife, “has finally consented to be my wife.”
This silence was of a different sort, as many gave confused glances with others. “Were you not already married?” one called out, and Alindra rolled her eyes, tugging Bendan’s arm until he sat back down.
“No, we were not, but despite what might have been my better judgement, this oaf is now mine.”
If Ness had any remaining doubts that her few short words had been insufficient, Alindra’s own proclamation eased what little still remained. She waited to see to see if anything would be added, but Alindra merely sat.
She had claimed Bendan publically, and evidently that was truly all that was required.
A few more looks were exchanged before a similar ruckus was made, Bendan not settling for a chaste kiss as Olivar had done, but instead brought Alindra close and kissing her most thoroughly, making Ness glad that Olivar had brought her to his own seat rather than have to be quite so close during their exchange.
“You have my thanks,” Ness whispered to Olivar, the others in the room beginning to laugh and talk amongst themselves.
Olivar glanced down at her, choosing to ignore his brother’s display. “For what?”
Her cheeks still burned, and she was relieved when the kiss ended beside them. “For... not doing that.”
She peeked over and saw that while Alindra rolled her eyes most thoroughly, she sat very near to her husband, a contented smile at her lips that belied any pretence at offence.
“Each couple is their own,” Olivar said in way of explanation. “To seal their announcement how they choose.” His finger came and skimmed down her cheek, his eyes suddenly worried. “I do not wish for you to be embarrassed.”
She shook her head, her nerves passing as the attention had shifted to the others, and she was grateful for Bendan’s intervention.
She smiled at Olivar, the last vestiges of tension leaving her as she recognised that the ceremony she’d feared was now past, and she leaned closer so he might hear her over the hum of voices around them. “May I have my crempet now?”
Olivar chuckled, kissing her cheek once more. “Of course.”
Ness felt sorry for those who had to fetch and carry both food and drink, as she was certain there were far more people than was usual, and with no notice of their coming. But the woman who came at Olivar’s gesture did not seem resentful, offering both of them a kind word in broken Naradian, promising to return as quickly as she could.
A few people approached their table, and most tried their best to include her in the conversation, but she did not blame those who grew too frustrated with their limited words and, with an apologetic glance toward her, reverted to their usual tongue.
She was more than content to sit with her husband and watch him be happy, to see him with the family he loved as others came and gave their blessing on the marriage she had wanted even before she knew she could want.
The serving girl did not return, instead the Caern himself coming with a plate full of crempets, as well as two mugs of a drink she did not recognise.
She stiffened when he placed the items on the table, and she realised those items were for them. “Oh,” she began, feeling horribly awkward that a man of his status should have been made to carry. Especially carry for her. “You should not... that is...”
He waved away her apologies. “There is no shame in service, Ness. Perhaps you were taught otherwise, but I have never found it to be so.”
She was not certain that was a lesson the Narada had meant to teach. Her honour could be earned only through service, but it was not a point she was going to argue. It did not matter what they had intended, for that would not dictate anything of her future. At least, that is what she hoped.
Olivar kept his arm about her waist, she suspected so as to keep her there as she did feel ready to stand and fret, despite the Caern’s assurances.
“Will you sit?” Olivar asked, gesturing toward the vacant chair. “There is something I wished to ask you.”
The Caern smiled, taking the chair and settling down. Ness looked toward the crempets longingly, and to her surprise, the Caern moved the plate closer to her. “They are for you. There is no rule against eating in my presence, I assure you.”
She managed a small smile of her own, grateful for the consideration he had shown her. But instead of risking a full bite, she settled for taking a swipe of cream on her finger, uncertain she wished to try to eat one properly while settled on Olivar’s lap.
“I assume this is in regard to your last trade?” the Caern queried, leaning back in his chair. He looked easy here, amongst his people, less stiff and intimidating than when she had seen him at his home, or even their own.
Olivar shook his head, and she felt his fingers at the end of her braid, whether for comfort or distraction, she did not know. She wished she knew what subject he wished to discuss, but he had not mentioned anything to her, so she could not be certain of the source of his unease.
“I feel it necessary,” Olivar began slowly, his eyes drifting to the Caern as he seemed to find his resolve, “to offer you my vassa.”
The Caern looked at him in some surprise. “Because of Ness’s injury?”
It should not surprise her that he knew already of what had occurred, and she found her good hand drifting over the bandaged one, wanting to hide it away. He did not appear angered for the mishap, but that did not fill her with a great deal of confidence.
“No,” Olivar continued, his voice grave. “Though I am of course terribly sorry that happened at all.”
She felt a kiss against her shoulder, and she shifted so she could see him better. “An accident,” she reminded him, for if he would accept no blame toward her, she would not allow it to be given to him either.
He nodded, returning his attention to the Caern. “It is because I am no longer willing to trade with the Narada. I will make no goods for them, and will deliver none either.”
“Olivar...” Bendan cut in, and Ness realised that no more people had approached since the Caern had settled, and their conversation had drawn the attention of the other two at the table.<
br />
Olivar held his hand, halting whatever argument his brother meant to provide. “I am sorry, Bendan. Truly, I am. It was an honour to have shared this with you but...” he held her a little closer, and it took a great deal for her not to give voice to her own disagreement. “They tortured her. In every way... and I cannot go back there and pretend that they did not.”
She did not like to think of Olivar seeing them again, not after all she had shared with him. She especially did not like to think of herself joining him there.
But there was a part of her that wanted him to lose nothing, to sacrifice nothing, to be with her, whether that be title or position.
Though something in her warmed to know that he was willing.
She glanced toward Bendan, hoping he wasn’t angry with her for his brother’s choice, only to see him looking at her softly, before his eyes flitted to his wife. Alindra reached out and touched his arm, rubbing at it lightly, her expression grave. “If it had been me?” she asked quietly. “Would you not say the same?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. She smirked. “Do not try to deny it,” she chided. “You would attack any that you saw, regardless of what it would mean for you. For our people.” She looked to Olivar, nodding her head in approval. “He is wise to admit that he would be unable to fulfil his responsibilities.”
Ness looked back at her husband and found him looking at Alindra with gratitude. “You married beneath you,” he told her, to which she smiled.
“Perhaps,” she hedged, both of them ignoring Bendan’s indignant glare.
“Before you rally Bendan to your side and I lose all who hold the vassa,” the Caern cut in, drawing their attention away from each other. “I should likely provide my own judgement on the matter.”
Olivar nodded, his expression turning more grave. “Of course.”
Ness bit her lip, fighting down the urge to say something. She did not know the outcome she desired most, but the desire to intervene was strong, especially when even now she wasn’t certain of the ramifications of surrendering such an honour.
Thrall (Deridia Book 3) Page 37
