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But every day, once he had figured out something to keep Melantha occupied, he went off to see to his actual duties of running Kostaria or training with his shield brothers and sister. He made no effort to include her in those duties.
Vriska turned her back to the door and crossed her arms, sweeping a slow glare from Melantha’s toes up to her head. Vriska snorted. “Rharreth could have done so much better. You are weak. You can’t even fight at his side, much less protect yourself. If he’s lucky, some warrior will assassinate you, and he will be able to move on to a real, troll wife.”
Melantha crossed her arms and glared back, the simmer in her chest painful in intensity. There was nothing she could do but take Vriska’s words, and Vriska apparently knew it. If Melantha ran to Prince Rharreth to tell him what had happened, she would only make herself look even weaker. “Will you help those assassins harm me?”
“At least not right now.” Vriska smirked as she leaned back against the door. “I gave my pledge to protect you to my shield brother. That oath is binding. I will not break it or my honor.”
That tree-festering honor. Prince Rharreth did that same thing, using his honor as a shield between them.
Melantha spun to put her back to Vriska. She was going to do her best to ignore the annoying shield sister. She faced the seamstress. “Well, let us proceed.”
The seamstress set to work measuring and taking notes on which colors and fabrics Melantha preferred. Not that there was that much to choose from. The only colors available were various dark blues, reds, and greens. And black, gray, and brown, of course. Her choices of fabrics were wool, heavy canvas, leather, or various furs.
Melantha chose to have the dark red wool dress modified in time for the coronation that evening. The seamstress promised that she and her assistants would have a few dresses and warm trousers and tunics finished in a few days. Until then, Melantha would be stuck in oversized dresses.
That evening, Melanthadressed in the dark red dress, leaving her black hair to flow down her back.
When Prince Rharreth reappeared from the waterfall room, he was dressed in the same black trousers, green shirt, and matching black vest that he had worn for their wedding. He held out an arm to her.
Melantha held her head high, her back stiff, as she strode at Prince Rharreth’s side through the passageways of Khagniorth to the front doors.
Outside, the stars glittered far overhead, already nighttime with the short, autumn days. In the courtyard in front of the palace, a small army of troll warriors waited with eight troll warriors standing in their center. These trolls carried two shields on their shoulders, four to a shield. Melantha recognized Eyvindur, Zavni, Nirveeth, and Vriska, and she figured the other three must be the rest of Prince Rharreth’s shield band with an extra pulled from another band.
The first four, all trolls Melantha did not know except for Eyvindur, knelt, and Prince Rharreth climbed onto the shield, standing with his feet planted. When the shield bearers straightened, Prince Rharreth remained steady, swaying with their movements as easily as if he were standing on a motionless floor.
When the four holding the second shield knelt, Melantha stepped on top. Vriska leaned over and spat onto Melantha’s slipper. The glare she sent Melantha challenged Melantha to protest the action.
Zavni sent Vriska a quelling look, but the others did nothing to defend Melantha.
Melantha held her head high and pretended the spittle had not landed on her foot and was drooling onto the inside of her shoe. She would not look weak, especially not in front of Prince Rharreth’s shield band. She planted her feet and struggled not to fall as her shield bearers straightened. The last thing she needed was to fall in front of everyone during the coronation. They already hated her simply because she was an elf. They would hate her more if she appeared like a weakling.
Eyvindur and the trolls carrying Prince Rharreth started forward, and Melantha’s shield bearers strode forward as well. Thankfully, their pace was solemn and measured, so Melantha was able to keep her balance. It was a bit like walking on the branches during a large windstorm when the gale was so strong it overpowered the magic shields and magic in the trees that kept them from swaying.
The troll army gathered around her and Prince Rharreth’s shields, forming a procession as they marched through the main street of Osmana. Trolls lined each side of the street and leaned out of upper story windows. Some of them stomped and gave their howling cheer at the sight of Rharreth. He kept his expression neutral, not giving any indication he heard them.
Melantha kept her own expression blank, even as a few stones and chunks of ice were hurled in her direction. The troll warriors made no move to stop the smaller items, and Rharreth stayed facing forward so he did not see what was happening.
She would not cry out. She would not bow beneath their hatred.
The shield bearers carried them through Osmana and out the opposite gate from the one where she had entered a few days earlier, the one that led to the ruins of Gror Grar.
Outside the gates of Osmana, the stars burned brightly in the black sky above, the starlight glittering on the icy mountain peaks. The trolls, both warriors and villagers from Osmana, held torches as they marched up a trail to one of those peaks.
The cold air surrounded Melantha, and she tried not to shiver as the breeze swept down from the mountains.
The top of the mountain was a large, flat space with a single, square block of stone in the center. Prince Rharreth’s shield bearers halted with the shield level with the stone so that Rharreth could step off onto the stone.
Melantha’s shield was held next to the stone, and she breathed a silent breath of relief as she stepped back onto solid ground. With a glance at her, Rharreth knelt, and Melantha matched his movement.
The same old troll who had married them started the ceremony. There was a lot of growling and stomping. Finally, another troll presented the old troll with a smaller shield with the antler crown of the trolls and a leather diadem resting on it.
Eyvindur picked up the antler crown while the old troll intoned, “Do you, Rharreth of the royal warrior family of Regdrir, swear to govern Kostaria with all honor for as long as you live?”
“I do.” Rharreth’s voice was solemn.
Eyvindur placed the crown on Rharreth’s head.
Then Vriska picked up the leather diadem and halted behind Melantha. The back of Melantha’s neck crawled with having Vriska behind her where she could not keep an eye on her.
