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“Would each of you clasp the other’s right wrist so that the hand fasting may begin?” she said to us.
Liath put out his hand at once—it was nearly twice as large as my own with long fingers and short, clean nails. There were calluses on his palm—no doubt where he gripped his sword. I do not know why I noticed such details—I was nervous and my mind was grasping for something to think of other than the fact that I was getting Joined to my beloved big brother’s killer.
Biting my lip, I held out my own right hand. I grasped Liath’s thick wrist…and winced as he grasped mine. It was my right wrist that Asfaloth had gripped so hard before the ceremony and it was still painfully bruised. I wished I would have had time to go to the Palace healer or possibly asked Tansy to help. But though she was excellent at household magic, my maid had never been much good at the art of healing.
Liath seemed to notice my wince for he frowned and turned my hand over. He pulled up the long sleeve of my underslip, exposing the cruel bruises left by my cousin’s fingers. They had been red earlier but they were turning an ugly purple now.
He looked first at the bruises and then at me, his face like a thundercloud. My heart skittered in my chest like a frightened animal—would he think I was used goods? Decide to call off the match? If he did, I would be free of him, but I would never get my revenge.
Hastily, I pulled my sleeve back down, making sure to cover the finger marks on my pale flesh. Then I gripped his thick wrist as firmly as I could and gave him a defiant look. He gave me a surprised one in return, his eyebrows lifting almost to his hairline. Then I nodded at the Priestess, letting her know we should proceed.
This silent exchange took but a moment but it seemed much longer. I didn’t think anyone in the audience had noticed and the Priestess went on smoothly, as though nothing had happened.
I felt the warmth of Liath’s palm and long fingers wrapped around against my wounded wrist but it seemed he was being careful, holding me loosely instead of squeezing. This surprised me somewhat—I had expected nothing but cruelty from the one who had killed my brother. I did not know what to make of gentleness instead. I looked up at him, searching for an answer but his bronze eyes were unreadable.
“High Fae of the Summer Realm and the Seelie Court, we are here today to join Princess Alira Starheart of the Seelie Court to Prince Liath Blackthorn of the Unseelie Court,” the Priestess began.
As she spoke, she started wrapping the gold and silver cord around our joined arms and hands, symbolically tying us together.
“Princess Alira of the Summer Court,” she said to me. “Have you come today to be joined to this male, Prince Liath—to plight your troth and join your path to his?”
My throat was suddenly so dry I couldn’t speak. I opened and closed my mouth, feeling like a fish out of water. At last I managed to squeak out,
“I have,” in a tiny voice that could barely be heard.
“Good.” The Priestess nodded and turned to Liath. “And Prince Liath of the Winter Court, have you come today to claim this Fae maiden as your own and join your path to hers?”
Liath didn’t hesitate.
“I have,” he rumbled in a voice I could feel as well as hear since the vibrations seemed to travel down his arm and up mine.
“Very good.” The Priestess nodded. “Then I ask that the two of you would place a hand on the other’s heart and repeat my words.”
I was nervous all over again. I wished now that I had on the enormous sack-like wedding dress the seamstress had made me. The thin underslip I was wearing showed far too much cleavage and my breasts felt naked beneath the silky, thin material. I did not know when I had felt so vulnerable before.
I half expected the huge warrior across from me to grab one of my breasts—they were certainly accessible, pushed up as they were by the wale bone contraption Tansy had made for me. His hands were big enough that one of my overlarge breasts would probably fit just right in his palm.
But again Liath surprised me—he placed his large, warm hand on my chest instead, above the swells of my breasts, and just over my heart. Then he leaned closer so that I might do the same for him.
Maybe my breasts disgust him, I thought, though I couldn’t help feeling relief that he hadn’t grabbed me. Maybe he thinks them ugly and far too large.
That was what I had heard all my life from everyone around me, anyway. I had thought they might have different standards of beauty at the Unseelie Court, but maybe they were not so dissimilar to the Seelie Court after all.
