Page 22 of Soul Forge

It was hard to stay calm while she was being primped and preened. She was walking into a wedding ceremony she wanted no part in, to marry a man who couldn’t stand her, in front of parents who were indifferent and an entire court that thought she was a simple fool with a pretty face. And she’d have to sacrifice her first kiss to a stranger in front ofeveryone.

“You look like a queen,” Persephone sniffed, pulling Elda out of her malaise. She swiped at her eyes dramatically.

“If Sypher doesn’t like this, then he’s lost his mind,” Irileth seconded. “You’re beautiful.”

When Elda turned to face the captain, Reiner shot the other two women a look that said she clearly thought they were insane. “You look better in stolen boots with twigs in your hair,” she decided, making Elda laugh despite the shaking in her knees. As abrasive as she could be, the captain had always known what to say to stop her from falling apart.

The jibe reminded her that she was more than just a gown and a pretty tiara. It reminded her that, contrary to Sypher’s belief, she was strong. She’d carved her own bow, felled smaller demons by herself, learned how to craft the things she needed, and had stolen what she couldn’t make. She’d fought against her debilitating self-doubt her entire life. She could handle a wedding ceremony.

Finally able to take in a full breath, Elda straightened her spine and glanced out of the window at the waning afternoon sunlight. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Come with me, Your Grace.” Persephone took her elbow and led her through the door, but she paused to look back at Irileth.

“I’m with you even if you can’t see me, little friend,” the Spirit promised. Elda nodded and allowed Persephone to lead her through the castle hallways and down to the chapel, Reiner always two steps behind.

“Are you nervous?” the handmaid asked.

“I’m petrified,” Elda admitted, “but I have to do this, or people could get hurt.” She steeled her shoulders as they approached the chapel doors, watching them swing wide to reveal the room beyond. Persephone stepped aside, allowing Reiner to walk in her place.

Elda was shocked that so much had been arranged at such short notice. The pews were filled with the same nobles that had witnessed her engagement, and at the end of each were swathes of white flowers interspersed with sprays of pale blue. A white carpet ran the length of the aisle, and at the end stood Sypher.

At the sight of him, her mouth went dry. Imposing in dark colours, he stood with his back to her. At the sound of the doors opening, he turned, andstars above, was he handsome.

Smouldering red eyes, high cheekbones, and a jaw sharp enough to draw blood greeted her. A diadem decorated his forehead, matching the golden detailing on the tailored jacket he wore. Intricate patterns lined his lapels and sleeves in shimmering metallic fabric. More patterns were pressed into the material rather than sewn, adding subtle accents across the arms and shoulders. Instead of his usual black, the jacket and trousers were smoky grey. His dark leather gloves were new, and his black boots were polished to a shine.

Elda reached the steps to the altar without realising she’d started walking, passing the many gawking faces without so much as a single tremble. Distracted as she was, she looked to her right, expecting to see Reiner, only to find the captain had already moved to the edge of the room to watch the ceremony.

Sypher offered the princess his hand and helped her up the three steps to stand beside him. There was something gentler in his expression, she thought, though it was only a fleeting glimpse. Her heart began to flutter.

“For the record, this?” He pitched his voice low, gesturing at his outfit with a gloved hand. “Hate it.”

Just like that, the illusion was shattered, and the Sypher she knew returned.

The chapel was a work of art attached to a wing of the palace that looked out onto verdant gardens. Beams of dark wood stretched high overhead in intersecting patterns, securing a roof and walls made almost entirely of glass. That glass was decorated with murals of the Spirits in all their glory, shattering sunbeams in multicoloured hues. Rainbows bathed the pews, highlighting every shimmering thread in Elda’s dress and sparkling off Sypher’s golden diadem.

With her nerves held at bay for the moment, she was able to take the time to properly admire the space her mother had chosen for the wedding. Had it been any other day, its beauty might have left her breathless.

Hrothgar stood, bringing Meridia with him so they could officiate the ceremony. Sypher kept Elda’s hand in his, his shoulders tense as he looked straight ahead. Again, she noticed his touch on her hand was feather-light, making it obvious that he’d rather not touch her at all. She swallowed the bitter lump it left in her throat.

“Friends! Thank you for attending at such short notice,” the king called out to the room, his voice echoing easily off the high ceiling. “Our newest wielder must be called away, so we’ve chosen to bring the wedding forward. I appreciate all of you for graciously accommodating the change.”

Elda drowned out what her father was saying, focussing on anything but the ceremony to try and calm her nerves. Reiner was too far away to distract her with an insult, and Irileth was nowhere to be seen. She passed her eyes over the guests, finding each one of her suitors sitting among the crowd. To her surprise, even Lord Horthan was there. His jaw was tight, and he was glaring, but he sat in resolute silence. Her mind flashed to the gut-churning feeling of his hands roaming over her bodice, and it took a physical effort to wrench her thoughts away from that darkness.

“Now Sypher, if you’ll repeat after me,” the king said, regaining Elda’s attention. The Soul Forge turned to face her, taking her other hand as she realised it was already time for their vows. King Hrothgar told him what to say, and he recited the words without faltering.

Too soon, it was her turn. Her pulse quickened when her father spoke the words to her, and then she looked up at Sypher. There was a very faint ridge between his brows, his extraordinary eyes burning with scarlet fire. The muscle flexing in his jaw gave away that his teeth were clenched. He was angry – she had no doubt that he’d be far away from Eden already if the Spirits had given him a choice.

“I, Princess Elda Gild of Eden, take you, Sypher, saviour of Valerus and Soul Forge to the Spirits, as my husband,” she began, thankful her voice didn’t waver. “I bind us before the creators and pray for love everlasting. I promise to be your light in the darkness. I promise to guide you when you are lost. I will love and honour you until the day our souls are returned to theAfter.” He watched her silently as she spoke the vows, her fingers trembling between his gloves. When she swayed slightly on her feet, he squeezed her hands, reminding her to breathe in. The gesture was almost… kind.

“Elda and Sypher,” Hrothgar said warmly, a broad beam on his face. Elda knew it wasn’t because he was happy for her. He was simply pleased that Eden and his crown were safe. “I seal your bond of matrimony before the Spirits and proclaim that you are husband and wife. Soul Forge, you may kiss your bride.”

Before Elda could think, Sypher took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. She expected it to be quick and cold, perhaps even a little rough. But his touch was soft, his lips warm. A shiver slid down her spine when he lingered, and she began to relax against him, her hands rising to rest on his chest. A tingle spread through her limbs, eyelids sliding shut without instruction. She tilted her head, instinctually parting her lips to respond. A hazy fog descended on her, seeping into her bones and warming her cheeks. The kiss deepened for a single second before Sypher broke it off, and the fog withdrew as quickly as it settled, leaving her dazed.

The guests clapped as they walked out of the chapel, standing respectfully for the princess and her prince. She let herself be led away from the noise by the arm until it faded behind them, unable to find the right words to address the stranger she’d just given her first kiss.

“Are we done now?” Sypher asked, letting go of her to tug at his jacket.

“No. We’re expected to attend our own wedding banquet,” she pointed out, trying to ignore the lingering feel of his lips on hers.

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