Page 74 of Beneath the Haunting Sea
Bells rang bright outside the old temple’s door, and Talia rose to her feet, along with Wen and Blaive’s father and sisters. Suddenly she wasn’t thinking about the cold anymore.
The door burst open and Blaive came in, snow clinging to her goldenhair despite the canopy her maidservent was dutifully holding over her head. The maid tugged the door shut again and Blaive swept slowly up the aisle, regal as the Empress, radiant as the sun. She was wearing a bright-blue gown, trimmed with white fur and silver beading, a cascade of snowdrops woven into her hair.
Blaive went to join Caiden at the front of the room, joy alive in her eyes. Heregarded her with a distant smile, and took her hand. They knelt together before the altar while the Baron spoke the formal words of binding. His voice was as shuddery as he was, but echoed clearly in the stone chamber:
“As the Stars shone with one light, may you be one. As the Tree flourished upon the earth, may you flourish. Until the last Star falls from heaven, may your love endure. Untildeath parts you, may you be true. Until time itself is ended, may you be of one mind and one heart and one soul.”
The images from the mirrors unfolded behind Talia’s eyes, and she tried not to shudder.
“Caiden Estahr-Sol, heir of Ryn. Do you bind yourself to this lady? To guard her and keep her for all of time?”
Talia felt the sudden touch of warm fingers against her cold ones, and she glanceddown to find that Wen had taken her hand.
“I bind myself,” said Caiden, his eyes boring straight into Blaive’s, “for all of time.”
“Blaive Nahm-Aina, heiress of Shold. Do you bind yourself to this man? To guard him and keep him for all of time?”
Wen didn’t let go, and Talia held tight to him, glad he was standing there with her. He smiled at her, a soft, sad smile, and squeezed her hand. Shesqueezed back.
“I bind myself,” said Blaive, her quavery words echoing among the stones, “for all of time.”
“Then by the will of the gods and the One who created them, let it be so.”
“By the will of the gods,” Caiden said.
“Let it be so,” Blaive whispered.
Caiden drew her to her feet again, and they stared at each other, something strong and almost tangible rippling between them: a thread,once broken, knotted together again.
Then Caiden bent his head and kissed his bride on the lips.
And Wen didn’t let go of Talia’s hand.
They had an early luncheon in the village inn to celebrate the marriage—Talia and Wen, the Baron, Blaive’s father and sisters, Caiden and his new bride. A modest affair to be sure, Ro had gossiped to Talia earlier, but with the Baron’s debts it was all he couldreally afford.
Flowers overwhelmed the small common room; they spilled over the fireplace mantel, wound around the cast-iron lamps in the ceiling, draped across the long wooden tables.
The eight of them sat around one table, dining on soup and pheasant and roasted mushrooms, savory pies and fresh greens. They sipped rose wine and currant tea, nibbling on little cakes dusted with powdered sugar.
Talia ate everything without tasting it. She tried not to stare at the heavy gold ring on Caiden’s right hand, or his left hand either, brown fingers interlaced with Blaive’s pale ones. She tried not to look when Blaive’s sisters teased the new couple into kissing in front of everyone, multiple times. She tried not to see the light in Caiden’s eyes as he smiled at his new bride. They would beleaving on their honeymoon today, traveling to the seaport on the other side of Ryn, three weeks in a luxurious inn looking out over the sea.
She didn’t want to think about it, but she couldn’t seem to think about anything else. The heat of the roaring fire and the heady scent of flowers felt oppressive, the room closing in around her.
She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and glancedsideways to see Wen shrugging into his coat. He jerked his chin at the door, and relief blossomed in her chest—he was offering her a chance at escape.
She murmured something to the Baron, which he probably didn’t hear, and left the table, grabbing her cloak from the wall. She settled it onto her shoulders and followed Wen out into the street.
It was quieter outside the inn, a hush fallen aroundthe tiny village. She pulled the hood of the cloak up over her hair, blinking snow out of her eyes.
Wen smiled a little. “Impossible to breathe in there. I hate to think how many flowers Blaive would have gotten if she’d had more than three weeks to order them.”
She couldn’t quite laugh yet, but she cracked a smile for him. “We would have drowned in primroses and snowdrops.” She drew a breathof icy air that cut deep into her lungs.
“Walk back with me?” he said.
“Five miles in all this snow?”
He shrugged, another smile playing about his lips. “Better than waiting out that interminable dinner.” He waved one hand at the inn behind him.
