AllFreeNovel
Share Us
11
Aeres
Tessa woke on the morning of her wedding with nausea twisting in her belly. What little sleep she’d managed had been riddled with nerves; the bedclothes were tangled and her hair clung to the sweat that had gathered on the back of her neck. Unwilling to continue the charade any longer, she sat up, lit the candles, and saw by the clock that it was more like the middle of the night than the morning; hours remained until it was time to bathe and dress for the mid-morning ceremony that was to take place in the garden.
Her dress hung from the wardrobe door, long, thick blue velvet picked with white and silver wolves and reindeer. The cloak was crimson, its hem stitched with runes in the old, Northern language that spelled out Heart, Body, Soul – her offerings to her new husband. Rune had a matching wedding cloak that read: Loyalty, Fidelity, Protection. Traditional words, sewn in for good luck.
Jewelry awaited her on the table, new pieces crafted for the occasion: delicate silver necklaces, bracelets, beads, and even a circlet for her hair, set with sapphires from the mines at Silfr Hall.
She would have been richly gowned and bejeweled had she married in Drakewell, but today’s ensemble was so distinctly Northern that it filled her with a momentary melancholy. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her new family, nor even her new home city…but when she’d imagined her wedding as a little girl, she’d imagined her mother there. And her sister. Katherine fussing over her hair in front of the dressing table mirror while Amelia leaned on the bedpost, drinking wine and making smart remarks about the pageantry of it all. Her dress would have been silk, with an empire waist and delicate seed pearls sewn along the square neckline. She would have worn fitted white gloves, and spring flowers woven into her hair. At the foot of the staircase, she would have turned down a long, red carpet and walked to meet her husband-to-be on her father’s arm, while her fiancé waited coiffed and handsome beside the priest.
There was no one she’d rather be marrying than Rune, but she wished the rest of her family was here.
Thoroughly awake now, and more than a little cold inside, she wrapped up warm, and snuck through the palace. The guards on duty all greeted her with nods and murmurs of “my lady.” She nodded in return, and slipped out the rear door, past the empty training yard, and down the snow-dusted paths toward the garden – where she pulled up short, because, sometime after she’d gone to bed, the stage had been set for the wedding.
An ironwork arbor waited just before the gate, offering a view of the gently rolling grounds, the dragons slumbering in white mounds like snow hills. Bowers of winter roses and hothouse lavender had been woven between the lattice, set with candles waiting to be lit, and hammered silver ornaments depicting the gods in their more famous poses. Silver lanterns in two rows marked an aisle down which she would walk, which would be flanked by guests standing attendance on either side. The naked fruit trees had been draped with evergreen garlands and hung with more ornaments.
It was breathtaking in the moonlight, its silver glinting and its shadows intricate on the snow.
“Oh,” she murmured, walking forward slowly down the aisle, hers the only footsteps to have touched the swept-clean snow.
She wouldn’t have her mother or sister; her father wouldn’t be there to give her away.
But even so, it was to be a beautiful day. A joyous one, which the people of Aeres – and she herself – desperately needed.
A gentle, wordless murmur at the back of her mind told her that the drakes had sensed her presence. Smiling to herself, now, she passed under the arbor, through the gate, and across the swath of lawn the drakes had chosen. It had been a gaming field, once, Rune had told her, and might be once more, if the drakes were built a proper a barn of their own. Like all things, it would have to wait until more urgent repairs were completed, but the cold-drakes didn’t seem to mind.
Percy shook snow off his head and gave her a sleepy look before closing his eyes again.
Valgrind continued to snore, twisting to lie on his side, flat-out like a dog.
The female chuffed a greeting and reached to snuffle at Tessa’s hair until she laughingly reached to scratch her chin; then her eyes slitted in bliss.
“I’ve been looking at Northern names,” Tessa confessed to her. “I think you and I have something in common: we’re both out of place, but we’ve found ways to be happy, and there are people who love us. What do you think of Alffinna?”
Elfin wanderer, it meant.
The drake let out a glad, warbling sound, and rubbed her face against Tessa’s shoulder.
Tessa felt her smile widen. “Alfie it is, then.”
~*~
Rune reached the end of the hall, performed an about-face, and paced down the length of it again, soft-soled boots whispering over the flags. It was after midnight, which meant it was technically his wedding day, and he couldn’t think of sleeping.
Bjorn had sat him down after dinner that night – last night, he supposed – in the family dining room. The two padded chairs by the fire, and a small flask of mistress, and Bjorn clearing his throat in a way that suddenly set off all the warning gongs in Rune’s head and let him know that this was going to be awkward. “You see,” he’d started, “er, son…”
Rune had recoiled, and Bjorn and taken a long swig from the flask. “Aye, forget I said that. But, seeing as your father’s gone to the Halls of the Ancestors, and your uncle is – well, let’s just say that women aren’t his area of expertise–”
“If it’s – technique you’re offering–”
“No, no. It’s only – should you not know what to expect–”
“You’re not married! And you’re – you’re – spending your time with my mother!”
“Ah, bollocks.” Bjorn had upended the flask and told him to get a good night’s sleep, grumbling about the fact that he’d tried, at least, to impart something like wisdom.
It wasn’t thought of the wedding night, nor his husbandly duties beneath the covers keeping Rune up, though, despite what Bjorn might have thought. It was the finer points of being a spouse: namely, being a spouse while a war was on.
