She’d never heard of a Guardian marrying anyone other than another Guardian before. It was important they didn’t mix their genes. How else could each generation of Guardians be stronger than the last if they were to marry ordinary people?
But Prince Tate wasn’t an ordinary person. He was a royal. What did that mean for her future children? Would they have her strength or their father’s weakness? Because he didn’t look very strong. She doubted he could lift the lightest ball in the line of weights. Although, he did look fast. Perhaps their children would be able to run like rabbits.
Heath led her toward a handmaiden, who was smiling warmly at River as if she’d been expecting her. She was an older lady, short and plump, wearing something that looked more like a fancy nightgown than a dress. River hoped she wasn’t going to be expected to wear anything like that in place of her tunic.
“I’ll take her from here,” the handmaiden said to Heath.
“I was told to go directly to the King,” said River, her chest tightening. “Take me to him first.”
“You can’t go directly to him looking like that, can you?” said the handmaiden, causing Heath to break out in a smirk as he looked her up and down.
River ran her hands down her perfectly clean tunic, then locked her gaze on Heath, deciding she preferred it when he’d treated her with distant formality than this kind of wry amusement.
“There’s nothing wrong with how I look,” she said. “And may I remind you both that you’re talking to your future Queen.”
Heath’s eyes darted to the floor as a flush spread up his cheeks, wiping away his smirk. Edison may have thought he could get away with making disparaging remarks about her in the tavern, but it was time the men of this kingdom learned how to treat her with respect.
“You look perfectly fine,” said the handmaiden, sighing deeply. “For a Guardian. But we need to turn you into a bride. It’s my job to prepare you for the nuptials.”
Nuptials! That was the word the King had used.
“Of course,” said River, turning to see Heath scurrying back down the passageway. How different her life would’ve been if her childhood hopes of marrying him had come true. Being his wife would be a life she understood. Although, hopefully now her life was about to get a whole lot better. She’d never seen Prince Tate smirk.
“Come now.” The handmaiden took her by the arm and led her down an impossibly long corridor to a room with a sweeping view of the fields of the kingdom. With the Guardians’ village firmly planted on the ground, she’d never been up this high before. It felt like she was standing on a cloud.
River went to the window and drank in the spectacular view with hungry eyes, taking in every detail. It was no wonder Princess Pip was seen so often, sitting at her window.
There were crops of corn, wheat, and barley, stretching all the way to the horizon. Closer to the palace were carefully groomed beds of vegetables. From where she stood, she could make out broccoli and carrots and something she was certain might be pumpkin seedlings.
River knew The Bay of Laurel had rich fertile soil, able to produce crops far superior to any of the other kingdoms, except perhaps Wintergreen. This was one of the reasons they were all so healthy and strong. There was no shortage of food for any man, no matter how rich or poor.
“Looking at your kingdom, are you?” asked the handmaiden, as she fussed about the room, picking up various strange-looking items and setting them down again.
“My kingdom?” River asked, tearing her eyes away.
“But, of course. As you just reminded us, you’ll be our Queen one day. That is, if I ever get you ready on time.”
She went to River and began tugging at the cords that fastened her tunic together.
River tensed, not used to anybody dressing her. Or undressing her, for that matter.
“I can do that.” She brushed away the handmaiden’s hands, unlaced the leather bodice of her vest and handed it over.
“Thank you.” The handmaiden smiled, keeping her lips tightly closed.
“What’s your name?” River asked, feeling that such details were important before she removed any more of her clothing.
“Elise.” The handmaiden smiled once more, revealing perhaps the most crooked set of teeth River had seen. “And stop your fretting. I’ve seen plenty of nakedness before. You’re no different.”
“I’m not fretting.” River did her best to return the smile but came up blank. “I just prefer to do some things myself.”
“Perhaps you’d be more comfortable dressing behind the screen then?” Elise led her to a corner of the room.
“Thank you.” River found her smile and stepped behind an ornate timber screen to see a chair and a rack with a white dress hanging from it.
Her wedding dress. The first dress she’d wear as a woman instead of a Guardian.
She reached out to touch it, gasping at the fineness of the fabric. It was so… feminine. This was another word she knew existed but had never applied to herself. Guardians weren’t feminine. They were tough. But why couldn’t tough be feminine? Perhaps that would be something she could do as Queen one day. Teach the kingdom what it was like to be a real woman. Strong and fearsome. Certainly, if she had a daughter one day, that would be the first thing she taught her.
She stripped off the rest of her clothes and laid them on the chair, pausing to touch the coarse fabric. Would she ever wear these clothes again?
“Hurry now,” Elise called over the screen. “You’ll need some help with those clasps on the back of your dress.”
River slipped the dress over her head and stepped out, turning her back to Elise so she could do it up.
“Oh dear,” said Elise. “You are… rather a lot bigger than I realized. I’ve never dressed a Guardian before. I don’t think we’re going to be able to do much about this gap at the back. There’s no way I can do up these clasps.”
River felt a flush race to her cheeks. Was she really so big? She was the smallest in her family. Smaller than a lot of the Guardians. But still bigger than an ordinary human, towering over Elise. Would that be a problem for Prince Tate? Did he like his women petite? Because if that was the case, he’d be nothing but disappointed in her.
Elise tapped her foot on the floor and let out a satisfied huff.
“Actually, we can do this,” she said, shuffling about on a bureau. “I have a ribbon I can thread around the clasps to hold them together. Nobody will notice.”
With the cool draft tickling River’s spine, she thought there was a good chance everyone would notice. Her only concern was just who everyone was. It wouldn’t be anyone she knew. She’d been told to come here alone, much to the disappointment of her mother, who’d said she’d always wanted to see her daughter get married.
But then her father had reminded her of what an honor it was for their daughter to be marrying a Prince and that had put an end to her complaints. There could be no greater duty to their kingdom.
River straightened her spine and lifted her chin as Elise got to work behind her, pulling and stretching and threading until she was puffing and grunting with the strain.
“I think that’s just going to have to do it,” said Elise, stepping back. “Now, quickly, sit down for a moment while I sort out that horse’s mane hanging from your head.”
River sat down and closed her eyes as Elise pulled her fingers through her braid, in her best attempt to turn her into a princess.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror in front of her and watched her eyes go wide. River the Guardian had already gone.
“Who are you?” she asked herself, wondering what kind of woman would emerge in her place.
“I told you, I’m Elise.”
“I’m River,” she said. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Elise nodded at her, too busy to realize that again, River had been talking to herself.
Today she was going to marry the Prince. Today was the first day of her new life that would be built on honor instead of strength
. She could do this. And she was going to prove to everyone—including herself— that she was going to do it well.
TATE
THE NOW
Tate entered the throne room in a rush. If he hadn’t been so used to racing through the cornfields in the morning, he’d probably be out of breath. He was running late after taking Pip her breakfast and hoped his bride wouldn’t hold that against him.
But he quickly worked out that she was even later than him. Or perhaps she’d decided not to turn up at all? Unlikely, given how loyally the Guardians had served them in the past.
“Father.” He dipped his head in a bow.
“Nice of you to show up,” the King said, tapping his fork on the arm of his enormous throne, impatience burning in the blue of his eyes.
“Where is she?” A glimmer of hope ignited in Tate’s chest that the nuptials had been called off. Although, he doubted it. His father had been adamant when they’d spoken earlier in the day that this wedding was going ahead.
“She’s readying herself.” His father stabbed his fork into his bowl of cauliflower, picking up a floret and shoveling it into his mouth. “Women like to look good on their wedding day. Your mother took days to get ready for our nuptials.”
“What’s she like?” Tate asked.
“Don’t fret.” His father rolled his royal eyes, chewing his cauliflower with an open mouth. “I chose you a pretty one. I don’t want ugly grandchildren.”
“But what’s she like?” Tate asked again.
“I just told you she was pretty.” His father frowned like there was something wrong with him.
Tate ignored the look and tried once more. “No, I mean, what’s she like, apart from her looks? What’s she like as a person?”
His father waved his fork in the air. “What does that matter? I swear, sometimes I wonder where you came from.”
Tate winced. Would anything he’d do in life be enough for this man? Probably not. Maybe if he was able to produce him the grandchild he wanted, then he’d leave him alone, feeling secure in the knowledge the kingdom’s future was safe. That was the one thing he could do to make this man happy. Perhaps that’s why he’d agreed to it. But really, it didn’t matter if he agreed. He was marrying a Guardian today, whether he wanted to or not.
“So, is this it?” Tate glanced around the throne room. This definitely wasn’t how he’d pictured his wedding day. His mother had told him stories when he was a boy of how when he found the woman he loved, the whole kingdom would come out to celebrate. Although, he supposed he was far from finding the woman he loved. All he’d found was a woman his father had described as pretty.
“What more do you want?” His father set down his bowl and picked up a large wedge of cheese, not bothering with a fork this time. “Weddings take preparation and I’m keen to get moving. I’m not getting any younger. Nor are you.”
“I’m eighteen, Father.”
“Yes and getting older by the minute. We’ll parade you through the streets with your bride once it’s done, if you like.”
He didn’t like. “Small and quiet is fine, Father. Perfect, in fact.”
“The opposite of your wife.” His father sniggered, tearing off a large chunk of cheese with his teeth and chewing it briefly, before spitting it out on the floor.
Tate looked at the macerated morsel and blanched.
“Tasted like piss,” his father said, as if that made his actions more civilized.
Before Tate could reply, the heavy oak door swung open. He stopped himself from turning, not wanting to see the face of his wife just yet. He needed another moment to compose himself. Would his wife really be large and loud?
If only Pip were here to distract him. She’d no doubt whisper something ridiculous in his ear and he’d have to stifle a giggle.
“Your Highness,” came a voice, far softer than the one he’d imagined a Guardian to possess. Was it possible his wife was small and quiet, after all?
He turned to see a woman standing in the doorway, curtseying. A woman. Not a Guardian, as he’d expected. A servant? No, she was wearing a wedding dress. This had to be his bride.
He glanced at his father to see what had gone wrong, only to find him nodding at the woman and gesturing for her to come in.
The woman straightened her back and stepped closer giving Tate the opportunity to study her. He decided she was indeed a Guardian. She was tall, even if not as tall as some he’d seen, and her arms, although slender, were lined with muscle. Her blonde hair had been brushed from the braid that Guardian women wore and fanned out in such a way as to create a softness around her features. His father hadn’t lied. She was indeed pretty.
Remembering himself, Tate dropped to a polite bow and held out his hand to his bride, surprised to find he was shaking. To think that he’d barely blinked when a farmer had threatened him in the cornfield earlier in the morning and now here he was scared of a…woman.
She slipped her hand into his and he realized he’d forgotten to ask his father for her name.
“My name’s River,” she said, seeming to read his mind.
“And I’m Tate,” he replied, surprised at her confidence.
“I know that,” she said, seeming to suppress a smile.
“I do hope she’s to your satisfaction,” interrupted his father.
“She’s lovely,” said Tate, wanting to be polite, despite his brain crying out that there was nothing to his satisfaction about this moment. It was nothing personal against this woman…River. She seemed pleasant enough. It was just that he didn’t love her. It wasn’t possible to love someone you’d only just met. He should be marrying someone he loved. His mother had been very clear about that.
Tate stood tall and wondered if he had the better of River in terms of height. It was hard to tell. She was perhaps taller than him by a margin. Certainly, she was stronger. But was she faster? Was she smarter? Was she kinder of heart? He’d find all this out and more in the fullness of time.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Tate squeezed River’s hand gently.
She nodded and offered him a smile. “It’s my honor to serve the kingdom as your wife.”
Tate swallowed, wondering how much truth there was behind these words. Did she feel honored? Was she as pleased as her smile was leading him to believe? It was true the Guardians lived to serve their King, but none of them had ever been expected to marry a Prince before. They married each other, which was another thing they’d seemed quite happy with.
He pulled back his shoulders and puffed out his chest, wondering how he stacked up in River’s eyes. She must surely have grown up expecting to marry a man who had muscles upon his muscles. Was he a disappointment to her with his lean frame and dark hair?
“Shall we get on with it?” his father asked. “I’ll starve to death by the time this is finished.”
Tate seriously doubted that, but led River a few paces forward, so they were standing side-by-side in front of the throne.
A Guardian rushed to the King’s side and unrolled a scroll, holding it so the King could read the words that would tie Tate to this woman’s side for the rest of his life.
“Citizens of The Bay of Laurel,” the King began. “Well, there are a couple of citizens here at least… Citizens of The Bay of Laurel, we are gathered here…” The King rolled his eyes. “Blah, blah, blah… we don’t need to read all this surely?”
Tate’s eyes widened. Were nuptials official if they weren’t read properly? Well, if the King said they were, then he supposed it didn’t make a lot of difference.
“Tate, do you take this woman to be your wife?” His father waved away the Guardian and abandoned any pretense that these nuptials should follow protocol.
“I do.” Tate was unsure if he should look at River or his father as he said this, opting to look at his shoes.
“And, River, do you take this man to be your husband?” his father asked.
“I do,” said River, looking directly at Tate, making him feel gui
lty for not having done the same.
“Then so be it!” The King stood. “You’re married. Now, off you go. Get to know each other and make me a grandchild. I have other business to attend to.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” said River.
“I said, be off with you. Go and do what married people do.” He waved his hand, a little too close to River’s face and she blinked in response.
A Guardian burst into the room, holding a large tray laden with roast meat and a pile of potatoes so high Tate was surprised they hadn’t spilled to the floor. It seemed Guardians had good balance as well as strength. There may not be a wedding feast planned as a part of these nuptials, however that wasn’t stopping his father from celebrating alone.
“Come on,” said Tate, placing a hand on the small of River’s back.
Noticing he was touching bare skin, he withdrew his hand like she was made from fire. River’s dress wasn’t done up properly at the back, instead tied by a snaking line of silk ribbon, a strip of flesh visible from beneath her hair to her waist. Clearly, this dress had been made for a more petite bride.
He looked away from her back, not wanting to admit how hypnotizing this bare skin was. How was it that a hint of skin could be far more alluring than an expanse of it?
He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers, realizing she was trembling ever so slightly. It seemed she wasn’t as confident as he’d thought.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.” As soon as he said the words, he knew they were foolish. She was a trained soldier. She could hurt him if she wanted to, not the other way around.
“I know you won’t hurt me.” She blinked trusting blue eyes back at him.
The King may be desperate for a grandchild, but he couldn’t have everything go his way. Sometimes people just had to wait. Tate was going to marry this woman with his heart before he ever laid a hand on her. Although, the way his heart was beating now, that may be a whole lot sooner than he’d originally thought.
ARIEL
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 69
