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He moved then, slinking over to stand before me with a predatory, seductive sort of grace. "We always intended to go through with this little plan. Who would pass up the opportunity to become a steward and a duke?" He leaned closer, his svelte body crowding my space, swaying closer so the fabric of his fine clothes brushed mine.
I hated that I couldn't stop the way my body reacted to his beauty and allure. I could still remember what it felt like to be in his arms, to be lavished with Fife's considerable attention and charm. "I hope your new servants are to your liking," he murmured, his lips curved into a sneer and his green gaze cutting. "Because that's all we are now, Your Grace. A bunch of idiots who tried to go back on a promise and were denied, then forcibly tied to our deceiver. Congratulations."
Then Fife followed the others, leaving me alone with my anger and my guilt.
The men of Raven team had already proved that they were men of integrity. They had entered this tournament to protect Mirri and ensure they were never separated. They saw their entrance and their place in the competition as a promise to the king and queen, and to the prize. Their willingness to withdraw from the competition for my sake had been the one exception to their moral compass. Even if they hated me now, even if they had been forced to remain in the competition, they weren't the kind of men to break promises or walk away from a commitment.
They had agreed to the bonding out of a sense of obligation. They didn't agree because they wanted me and were willing to see past my deception. No. They agreed out of a sense of duty, and likely because of pressure from the queen. And now they saw themselves as possessions. Tools, and nothing more.
I put my hands over my face to muffle the groaning scream that erupted from my very soul. This was all such a damned mess.
But I always knew I would end up bonded to strangers. This was a competition for the position of my bonded, after all. It was meant to help select the men who would be best suited to serving Larkwood and its people, and to helping my territory grow and flourish. There was nothing in the challenges that guaranteed we would actually like each other.
I hadn't been foolish enough to hope for some magical love at first sight situation. But…before all of this, I had at least hoped that the winners of the tournament might at least become my friends. That maybe we could start from a place of companionable duty and go from there. Maybe one day learn to genuinely care for one another. Then I met Bach, Mirri, Fife, and Adder, and I had started to believe in the daydream of affection, attraction…maybe even one day love. I was such an idiot.
I straightened and took a calming breath. I needed to settle myself before someone caught me having a nervous breakdown. Facts. Focus on the facts, rather than my stupid hurt feelings. I needed these men. They were good men. Smart, strong, honorable, just. They were the perfect partners for me to protect and nurture my territory through all the changes to come. I didn't need them to love me, or to even like me, for that matter. I just needed them to cooperate with me long enough to make sure Larkwood was stable. After that…then they could go.
I would offer them an out once their duties were fulfilled. They were all honorable enough to accept that; I was sure of it. Giving myself a determined nod, I hurried off to catch the secretary before he could file those contracts. I needed to add an amendment.
One year. That was enough time for the pass to be built by the royal builders, and the mines to flourish, and for me to ensure that I had a plan in place for the future. Then my new bonded could annul our marriage and go their separate ways, if that was what they wanted to do.
Chapter 45
My marriage and bonding ceremony was a small affair. I had planned it that way from the beginning, even before I knew what a clusterfuck this tournament was going to be. The royals were wonderful people, but they had a bad habit of turning everything into an event involving the entire kingdom. I knew they'd make the tournament into a spectacle. I had been determined to keep my wedding from being more of the same.
Now, it was even more of a blessing. My bonded had been informed of and agreed to the amendment to their contracts. They were only obliged to stay for a year. After that, they could do as they wished. I had even stipulated a very generous monetary compensation for each of them, as well as the royal promise that there would be no penalties for annulment, and that the men would keep their titles and their standing in the royal court.
But despite my efforts, my grooms looked just as pissed-off today as they had two days ago. They had each been given permission to use the royal portal to transport their parents or close family members to the ceremony, since there wasn't time for people to travel the ordinary way by dragon or griffin. The portal was normally only used for dire emergencies, given its high magical cost, so this was quite an honor. But they had all declined.
Not a single guest was in attendance outside the royal family, their officials, and the few court members I tolerated enough to call on as witnesses. Apparently, none of my new mates wanted anyone they knew to witness this farce of a bonding. And given that knowledge, I could hardly invite any of my own close friends from Larkwood. I wouldn't want them to witness this animosity and awkwardness.
My mates all looked deadly attractive in their finery, each of them decked out in traditional fae tunics and flowing pants embroidered with leaves and vines, and the individual symbols of their family magic affinities. They had probably placed the order with the royal clothiers over the last couple of weeks of the tournament, when they were made aware that they were in the top five teams. I imagined them placing the order because it was expected of all the teams, not thinking that they'd actually have any need to use the garments, since they were so sure they would lose. Now they stood here in silks and satins, gleaming with jewels and precious metals, their expressions looking like they were about to attend a funeral rather than a bonding ceremony.
I smoothed the skirts of my understated dress, wishing now that I had gone with something more flamboyant and traditional. At the time, I had chosen a less fancy dress simply to be contrary. Because making a big show of things wasn't in my nature. But to my grooms, it must look like I simply didn't care to put forth the effort for them. They probably thought the choice was because I was as unhappy with them as they were with me.
I went through the motions of the ceremony in a haze, barely registering what I said, keeping a slight smile plastered on my face and moving or speaking only when the official said to do so. Then we reached the end.
Fae tradition overlapped with human tradition when it came to sealing a marriage bond. The humans across the seas didn't realize that there was magic involved. Silly, since they wrote fairytales that hinged upon the power of true love's kiss. Of course, true love had nothing to do with it. But it was old magic, all the same, sealing a bond this way.
When Bach stepped up before me, I stopped breathing. Somehow, in all the worry and rush to get to this point, I hadn't thought about this part of the ceremony. I met his blue, blue eyes and felt like I might drown. As if his water affinity might create a tidal wave to put us both out of our misery. But no water sprang forth to fill my lungs or stop my erratic, shallow breathing.
Bach leaned down and fitted his lips to mine in a kiss that was an emotionless, chaste brush of his lips against mine. Before I even had time to think how to respond, he was gone, stepping away to leave me with the faint weight of the magical thread tying his aura to mine.
It was the first step in a formal bond, a connection that would be strengthened with time and familiarity. With intimacy, if the people involved actually cared for one another. The tenuous feeling of the thread and the knowledge that it might never get a chance to grow into anything more made my eyes prickle with unshed tears.
Adder was next, stepping up to me before I had time to calm my racing heart and paste my bland expression back on my face. He lifted a big hand and cupped the side of my face nearest the audience, tilting my head back and leaning in close, his dark eyes hooded with an expression that could have been passion, but that I knew was probably rage.
When he was so close our lips were nearly touching, he stopped, whispering against my lips as my heart thudded loudly in my ears. "Earn it, Duchess." He lingered just long enough for the audience to think we were kissing. Then he pulled away, bonded to me on paper, but not by magic.
I let him go without comment. I would not force the matter. If I had thought this through, I would have struck this bit from the ceremony altogether. Why force them to bond with me magically when they were only going to leave?
Then Mirri was there, and my thoughts fled. Once more, those golden eyes held some strange combination of hurt and acknowledgement. When he cupped my cheek, I leaned in automatically, drawn to his warmth and that tiny bit of acceptance. He had said we would figure it out. That was something. Some small hope to cling to. But when he leaned in, he moved to the side, pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek, just like he had that day in the secretary's office. It was enough for the small thread of magic to form between us, bonding us. But it felt like a dismissal all the same.
Fife was easily the most beautiful person in the room. His clothing was all white, shimmering with hints of green and purple silk thread that formed the shape of ravens and flowers along the front of his tunic and along his collar and cuffs. His black curls were left loose down to his shoulders, and his plush lips were curled up into a warm smile. He looked every bit the gorgeous courtier, happy to bond with his lady love. "Don't be afraid, darling," he said sweetly, loud enough for everyone to hear. He opened his arms to me. "Come closer. I don't bite."
That earned a little titter of laughter from the people watching. But they didn't catch the dangerous gleam in his crystalline eyes. And they didn't hear the barely whispered "much" that escaped his lips as I stepped into his embrace.
Fife wasn't hesitant, or polite, or secretive like the others had been. His lips on mine were a promise, seductive, passionate, and persuasive. My entire body lit up with desire, even as I saw the act for what it was. It was a display. A challenge. And an emotional slap in the face, as if to say, "See! This is what could have been between us if you hadn't ruined it."
