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“Ah.” Rharreth’s smile returned as he faced the arena once again.
Melantha’s smile widened, something melting inside her that Rharreth knew her well enough that no long explanations were needed. She tucked her hand inside his larger one and leaned against him for the rest of the bouts, drawing in his warmth and strength.
And, strangely, the longer she sat there, the less she felt the burn to join a bout there in the arena. She enjoyed training with Rharreth, and something about the exertion of pushing her skills and strength with hardwood staff made her jubilant for the rest of the day afterwards.
But she did not feel drawn to battle the way she thought she would. Fighting was raw and bloody and brutal, even in these controlled bouts.
Perhaps she was more a healer than a warrior after all.
Rharreth strode downthe center of the great hall, a large room with a black, obsidian ceiling that sparkled in the light of the torches lining the walls and the candles set on each of the tables filling the space. Boughs of greenery decorated the tables at a safe distance from the candles while more greenery hung around each of the doorways.
At his side, Melantha held her head high, the queen’s diadem resting against her forehead.
A few of the warriors gave her sneering looks when they thought Rharreth’s back was turned, but none of them did anything so obvious as spit at her. One warrior sloshed his drink onto her as they passed, but it was hard to tell if he had simply imbibed too much mead or had spilled on purpose.
Rharreth glared at him long enough to let the warrior know not to attempt such a thing again and let the matter drop. He had no wish to destroy all of Melantha’s preparations by causing a brawl in the middle of the great hall.
On the tables, plates of caribou roasts and fresh bread baked with grain from Escarland filled the room with delicious scents. A better feast than had been enjoyed in Kostaria in many a Winter Solstice.
When he reached their table on the dais, Rharreth stood behind his chair and curled an arm around Melantha’s waist.
She smiled up at him, a vision in her layers of fur and long black hair streaming down her back.
Rharreth picked up his mug filled with mead and raised it high. After a moment, Melantha did the same.
A clatter filled the room as the warriors surged to their feet, holding out their foam-topped mugs.
Rharreth drew in a deep breath, speaking loudly enough that everyone in the room would be able to hear him. “To our warriors! May you fight with honor and strength all your days!”
A howling cheer filled the room, accompanied with the stomping of feet.
Rharreth sipped from his mug before he held it out again. It took several seconds before the hall quieted enough for him to give another toast. “To Kostaria! May our kingdom know better and greater days ahead!”
This toast too was received with cheering and stomping.
Rharreth glanced at Melantha again, tucked against his side as she was. He was not sure how this toast would be received. But he was going to make it anyway. When the room fell into semi-silence again, Rharreth held out his mug a third time. “And to my wife, Queen Melantha. May the peace and healing she brings to Kostaria strengthen us as we have never been strengthened before.”
A hush so silent, so tense fell across the great hall that Rharreth could hear Melantha catch her breath beside him.
Before the silence dragged on too long, Zavni stomped his feet, banged his mug against the table hard enough to send mead sloshing onto the tabletop, and let out a hooting howl.
Eyvindur, Brynjar, and Darvek joined him. Then Drurvas and Vriska were also cheering and stomping, though less enthusiastically than Zavni.
Soon, more and more of the warrior families were joining in. It was hard to tell from the dais who was doing so out of genuine support and who was cheering simply because they did not want to be seen publicly dishonoring their king by ignoring his toast.
He was sure a few weren’t cheering. But they at least had the decency to attempt to hide it rather than making a big display out of their disapproval.
It was a start. Looking over at the crowd of warriors cheering for Melantha, it gave Rharreth hope that maybe, just maybe, his wife would find acceptance by his people.
