Page 15 of The Cordial Bride

Dropping his hand from his sister’s shoulder, he stood with legs braced and hands clasped behind his back—a schoolboy once more giving a presentation to his tutor. “As I’ve explored your beautiful country, it occurred to me that the most important and successful treaties of my country have been forged with the bonds of matrimony. My sister made that very point, actually, on our journey here.” Ignoring the obvious stiffening of Isabeau’s body, he plunged on. “I would like to propose the same path be taken for this one between Moorcondia and Shadow Valley.”

There was a stunned silence, which was better than an all-out screeching of dissent. Then, with furrowed brows, Fennic asked, “Are you suggesting that Lady Isabeau marry one of…us?”

Ian knew of only one man on the council who was unattached, and the look on the man’s face was one of delightful surprise. Ian couldn’t see his sister’s expression, but he didn’t have to. He needed to clear up the mistaken impression immediately.

“Not at all, sir. I would never speak for my sister, and I know she grieves still for her late husband. In any event, my idea involves myself.” He kept his gaze trained on Fennic and not Celia. That woman was too shrewd not to understand his meaning already. He took a bracing breath before continuing. “My offer involves my marriage to Calan.”

Audible gasps reverberated around the room, Fennic’s included. The man recovered his shock quickly, however. “Are we to understand that you are offering to marry Councilwoman Celia’s nephew? As in take him as your wife?” Now the man’s eyebrows all but disappeared in his hairline.

Isabeau stood abruptly. “I would speak with you in private, brother.”

Ian kept his eyes on Fennic. “Yes, sir. That is exactly what I’m proposing. I have become quite fond of him in our short acquaintance, and as you know, men marrying each other is acceptable under Moorcondian law.” Now, he turned to Isabeau, ignoring how fire practically shot out of the top of her head. “It has become a valuable and effective part of our diplomacy, as my sister can attest.”

He tried to convey how important this was to him by staring at Isabeau with a kind of intensity he’d used their whole lives. As cavalier as he could be with many things, they’d long ago developed a wordless way of confirming when he was being serious. His sister’s narrowing gaze conveyed her displeasure, but she sat again and curtly nodded once.

Ian looked at all the council members with a quick sweep, forcing himself to focus on Celia for a few seconds more than the others. This woman was not the final say with the council, but it was her nephew he was making an offer for. And while he didn’t know much about Shadow Valley’s laws, he had to assume that a relative’s opinion weighed heavily in the decision-making. He tried to convey reassurance over his sincerity.

Fennic scratched his chin. “I don’t think our laws say anything about it one way or the other. The issue hasn’t come up before, has it?” he asked the room in general. There was general murmuring among the crowd, although thankfully there didn’t appear to be any hostilities over the matter.

Unless one counted Celia. The woman rose to a stand. “It’s of no importance whether our law specifically disallows it. The idea is absurd on the face of it. Two men may…enjoy each other’s company. That is not to say that our custom acknowledges a formal marriage between the two. That bond is for establishing families—creating a new generation so that our people survive.”

Silence followed that pronouncement, and Ian felt his heart sink. He’d been so sure that the Shadow Valley people wouldn’t object to his proposal.

Then another woman slowly stood. “I don’t deny that your view of marriage’s role in our society is correct, but are you saying that because my dear husband and I have been unable to have children that our marriage does not count?” The look of sorrow on the woman’s face was the epitome of pain. Clearly, being childless had been an unhappy fate.

“Certainly not,” Celia was quick to reply. “It’s only that… Surely this council isn’t considering sacrificing my nephew for the sake of successful diplomacy. That isn’t fair to Calan. Everyone in Shadow Valley has agency when it comes to their future. Are we going to toss aside generations of customs and rules merely for the sake of a treaty that we don’t even need.” She glared in a way that encompassed Ian and Isabeau alike.

Ian’s hackles went up. He hadn’t intended to interfere with his sister’s mission…not much, anyway. And not so as to jeopardize it. What he offered was an extra benefit to the treaty effort. It wasn’t supposed to be seen as some kind of negative.

“I take your point, madam, but while I’ll leave it to Lady Isabeau to enumerate the many benefits of the treaty, I can assure you that I have no intention of forcing Calan into anything.” He turned his attention back to Fennic. “I expect that if the council approves of the union, it will ultimately be up to the boy to agree to it.”

Fennic nodded. “Just so. We would never force him. And there is great value in what you suggest.” The man focused his gaze on Celia. “The one sticking point in particular in our negotiations has been the disposition of your recent cordial. Keeping it in the family with a marriage of Calan to the count would be an elegant solution to the problem, don’t you agree?”

Before the woman could respond, Ian jumped in. “If that is of concern, I can assure you that although I’m not related to the king, my status as a count puts me at the second tier of the nobility. I have the power to control specific items of commerce, as would my wife by extension. If Calan has dominion over the distribution of this cordial within Moorcondia, would that make a difference in your acceptance of a treaty?” He could tell by the shifting emotions in the room that he’d hit upon the solution.

“Except he wouldn’t have the power, would he?” Celia spat out. “As his husband, you would control what he does.”

Ian tried for a conciliatory smile, although he believed that there was nothing he could say to sway the woman. It wasn’t at all clear that her resistance to the plan was based on a real concern for Calan. Rather, he sensed that it was her own power that she worried about. “While it is true that my word is law within my own county, I’m not a tyrant to anyone, least of all with my own wife. I will treat him with the utmost respect and…tenderness.”

He meant what he said, although the visions in his head about what he’d do to the boy in bed were passionate to the point of ferocity. He had to work to keep his thoughts off his face and out of his dick. There was more to say to convince the council. “And wives in Moorcondia own and manage their own property. Calan would be no different. Such right can be written into the treaty, as well, can it not, sister?” He shot Isabeau the winningest smile that he could.

Isabeau grimaced. “Yes.” The tightness in her voice warned him that whatever happened in this room, she had a lot to say to him.

Fennic raised his hands. “Well, it seems as if we have a new path forward—with Calan’s agreement, of course. Shall we adjourn for dinner and return to this topic tomorrow after we have his answer?”

And with that, Ian had to hide a victorious smile. He had no doubt that the boy would agree. The attraction between them couldn’t be ignored, and if what little they’d shared to date foretold what their lives would be like with each other, this marriage would suit them both very well indeed.

* * * *

Calan hurried downstairs, smoothing his tunic and patting his braid. He’d spent too long in the workshop, trying to be productive, yet distracted by thoughts of Ian. It had been disappointing when the man had left after lunch, but the time apart had probably been a good idea. The man’s proximity clouded Calan’s mind and overtook control of his body. At least alone, he’d been able to ponder what he truly wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted Ian to take him fully as a lover. The promise of a future mounting had firmed his desire for the count, and although disappointed in the slowness of their relationship, he also liked the idea of the man being careful with him. Ian’s measured approach to their relationship showed respect. He did not think of Calan as a quick release for his passion. And his mastery of the situation that normally would have irked Calan’s sense of independence for some reason didn’t. There was comfort in knowing someone he liked and trusted was taking care of him.

As he reached the living area, the front door flew open. Celia’s face was twisted in fury. Before Calan could issue an apology for something he didn’t understand he’d done, the woman marched over and slapped him. The sting was more to his pride than his cheek, and sadly he was used to the corporal punishment. He stood blinking back tears, trying to think of what he’d done to earn such ire.

“You slut! Was it your plan all along to have him take you away from me?”

“W-what?” He was having trouble understanding what she was saying. Does Ian want to take me with him? The idea of being the man’s lover for longer than a few days elated him. His aunt’s answer caused his heart to skip.

“Don’t play innocent with me. He’s proposed to marry you to bind the treaty. The entire council is overjoyed at the idea, although his sister isn’t as keen.” She shifted her gaze over his shoulder. “That’s something, anyway.”

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