“You look beautiful, Aithne. Absolutely perfect,” Dierdre gushed as she threaded the ribbons through my hair for a finishing touch. “It’s so romantic as well.” I tried not to shake my head, keeping still until she gave me the go ahead to move.
“It’s only for one night. I don’t even know when he’ll arrive.” My hands fidgeted in my lap, my nerves threatening to overflow. With only moments left before the ceremony commenced, I was dressed in Hadrian’s gift—a most glorious dress—and the garland on my head released an intoxicating fragrance.
“But still, it’s something straight from our childhood fairytales. Who knows maybe he’ll change his mind and whisk you away, never to return.” Dierdre continued to chatter as I tuned her out. Her words were once things I’d secretly hoped for, but know they served only as a painful reminder.
“You know that’s not true. My destiny lies in being an old spinster whom the village children prank,” I scoffed softly. “This is my one night of magic before I leave such things behind.” Sensing she was finished, I stood and turned around. “How do I look?”
“Like a Fae princess!”
I tried not to roll my eyes, and carefully touched my hair. “Thank you for helping me tonight. You’re such a true friend.” A sudden longing for my mother swept through me. I quickly embraced Dierdre, grateful she’d invited me to her home. I couldn’t imagine dressing alone, and she helped fill in for a dearly missed parent.
“You do know, someone else won’t be able to take his eyes off you tonight. A certain blacksmith?” Dierdre giggled.
The thought of seeing William caused me to stumble slightly as I became light headed. I wasn’t sure how this evening would unfold—both men in attendance. Steeling myself, I continued in my resolution that once this night was over, I would be ready to fully embrace my future.
“You are incorrigible!” I teased, gently slapping her arm. “Tonight should be very interesting.”
I was prevented from further talk by the appearance of Mayor Brimhal. He was dressed in his best Sunday clothes, and I grinned as I noticed someone had helped him tame his hair for the occasion. He now resembled a dignified village leader, and less an absentminded inventor.
“My, my, aren’t you a vision, Aithne. Each passing year finds you looking more and more like your dear mother.” Tears started to form in both our eyes at the compliment. Uncomfortably, he covered his mouth and coughed. “Allow me the pleasure of escorting you to the ceremony.”
I slipped my arm through his offered elbow, and waved Deirdre goodbye. My nerves gave way to excitement as I stepped out into the cool night. The air thrummed from the merrymaking already under way, and I smiled at everyone we passed. Everywhere I turned, people looked on with approval, and my heart burst with joy at the sight of my father—pride and love blazing in his eyes. Placing his hand over his heart, he bowed with respect and it caused a wave through the crowds as they followed his example.
The ceremony was being held in a large meadow just outside the village. The women had painstakingly decorated everything with flowers and ribbons. There were tables and chairs for eating food of every kind—the heavenly aroma teased my senses and caused my mouth to water. Honey mead was in abundance, and lit lanterns were scattered throughout giving it a magical feel.
I absorbed the scenery, but all was forgotten when my gaze finally rested on the large bonfire and the man standing before it. William stood tall and proud, and I fought the urge to quicken my step. Our journey to him felt like it took a lifetime, and just when I thought I’d die from impatience, there he was.
I smiled as I took his hand, and he guided me to stand beside him. He was also wearing his best clothes, but that wasn’t what drew my attention. Traditionally, the Sun King wore a mask that covered his features—his lips and eyes the only thing visible. William’s stare was heated, and caused me to focus instead at the glorious crown of antlers on his head. Growing up, they had scared me, but I soon learned it was to honor the Horned God, his nickname.
The King bent at the waist in a regal bow, and I responded with the customary curtsy. Turning, we faced the Mayor who now stood as the officiator, and the crowds hushed to a low whisper.
Our arms touched and caused an exhilarating thrill to course through me. The familiar pressure made it impossible to concentrate on the words being spoken—his closeness drawing my attention. I remembered those moments in the forge when he’d cradled my face, the passionate kiss that left me breathless—wanting more. As the mayor welcomed everyone to this year’s festivities, William’s hand slipped into mine and his thumb brushed over my skin. I squeezed back, desperate to regain my focus.
As the traditional prayers were offered, thanking the gods for their blessings and protection through the winter, my mind turned to how symbolic the ritual was. Here I stood as the Mother Earth, strong and fertile, ready to begin the summer solstice. I repeated the promptings that gave thanks and said goodbye to the winter. One cycle of life was over, and with the help of the sun, we were ready to begin anew. But it was more than just asking for abundant crops. The festival was a time to reflect over the past, learn from each experience, and move forward.
I wanted to toss my head back and laugh at the heavens. As I listened, I knew I wasn’t only speaking for my village, but also for myself. There was only so much time before I knew I’d have to let go of my childhood and cleave to adulthood. I’d ignored the need for years now, but it had taken Hadrian’s appearance and William’s declaration to rouse me. It was time for me to step forward and become a woman.
A cord was produced and tied around our clasped hands, signifying a marriage vow between the earth and sun. Working together in partnership, both God and Goddess would be worshipped for their life giving influences. I glanced up into William’s masked face, suddenly wishing this was for a different reason—that we were exchanging vows as husband and wife. He must have sensed my thoughts because his lips curved into a smile.
A hand at my elbow brought me back to the ceremony, and I realized the only thing left was to toss the winter solstice wreath into the fire and then perform the marriage dance. Accepting the garland from the Mayor, I added a small wish as I threw it into the tall flames, praying that magic would give it wings.
I wish to know for sure.
Music began to play, the crowds broke into joyous cheers, and William led me down to the designated dancing area. With our hands still tied, it would be an intimate experience, one in which every moment was spent touching.
We stood there without speaking, the melody began, and finally I looked into his eyes. There was an instant connection—a spark—and I gasped. Following his lead, I walked around in a circle, never taking my eyes from his. The world ceased to exist. There was only us, and a flare of desire began to smolder and ignite within me. I was mesmerized, enchanted, and I shivered when a step brought him close enough to whisper in my ear.
“My Aithne.”
Hadrian.
Enchanted Hearts Page 19
