Page 20 of Traitor Son

“Greetings to Her Sacred Highness Ophele, Princess of the Empire of Argence,” he replied with a low bow, and then straightened to lift the veil from her face.

Chapter 3 – A Bed of Roses

She had flowers in her hair.

The vision of the princess danced before Remin’s eyes even after he turned away, like an afterimage from staring directly at the sun. He had very rarely gotten a good look at her, these past few days; she was always looking at the ground, and hiding behind her masses of untidy hair. Even as the Prior began his opening blessing, Remin couldn’t help watching her from the corner of his eye, as if it might be some trick. She looked like the maiden spring in pink and green, and her hair was beautiful, the rich umber streaming in loose curls down her back, with a crown of pink roses on her head.

The ceremony needed a few adjustments, as they went along. Neither of them had parents to approve the marriage, or at least, in the princess’s case, no parent that was willing to stand behind her on her wedding day. And for the first time, the thought of the Emperor aggravated Remin for reasons beyond his own grievances. Surely the Emperor should have sentsomeoneto witness his daughter’s wedding. What Miche had said was right, and Remin found an unwilling pocket of sympathy. She had been a very nice girl so far, and she was all alone.

“Let us call the stars as witness,” the Prior said, and Remin snapped back to attention.

The invocation was long and rather ironic, considering the number of verses calling for the blessing of the stars, and the Emperor who was their Beloved. It was very unlikely that the Emperor would spare any grace for this union. But the Prior made the best of it, and smoke fromthe silver braziers rolled in thick cloud around the base of the dais, cold and sharp to Remin’s nose.

“Before these witnesses and under the light of heaven, we propose to bind this man and this woman as one, unto death and beyond, and even to their dwelling in the stars,” said the Prior, lifting his hands. “Are there any here that will protest this joining?”

There was a terrible moment when Remin glanced at her, wondering ifshemight protest. But she said nothing, and at that moment the crystal chimes hummed along the periphery of the dais as the stars sang a wordless, ethereal accord.

The princess began to glow.

Remin had never been a particularly religious man, but even he was awed as the light shone from her fair skin, glowing in her eyes. Behind him, there were gasps from the crowd, and a rustling as everyone fell to their knees before a Daughter of the Stars. She was shining so bright, the lines of her body wavered in the radiance of their light.

The princess looked down at herself in amazement, and when she lifted her eyes to Remin, he saw that she was afraid.

“Sacred Highness.” Remin had to force himself forward, to take the hands of this divine creature, his thumbs rubbing gently into her palms, warm and reassuring. “I am Remin Nicanot, the son of Benetot and Sidonie, and by the grace of the stars, Duke of Andelin. To you I swear the protection of my body and my house, from this day to my last day, and even unto our dwelling in the stars.”

He meant it. Even if she was the Daughter of the Stars, the daughter of the Emperor, he would protect her to his last breath. The Prior was nearly as awed as the rest of the crowd, but he moved forward at Remin’s sharp glance and began to bind their wrists together, the silk cords symbolizing the oaths that would bind them unto death and beyond.

“I—I am Ophele, daughter of Bastin and Rache, and by the grace of the stars, Princess of Argence.” The princess’s voice squeaked once before it settled. “To you I swear the submission of my body and my obedience to your House, from this day until my last day, and even unto our dwelling in the stars…”

Back and forth, they alternated vows, each vow another cord, another knot, another bond. A pattern emerged in silver and white and blue,gleaming with tiny crystal beads. If either of them had had a family, it would have been their responsibility to supply the cords of this binding.

As it was, they had been supplied by Miche. Possibly stolen.

“As your husband, I will build and guard the walls of our House, and forsake all others in fidelity to my wife,” said Remin, taking the rings from the ends of the cords. They were nearly done.

“As your wife, I will govern well within the walls of our house, and forsake all others in fidelity to my husband,” Ophele replied, taking his ring. There was a plain silver band for Remin, but her ring was small and exquisitely formed, with a diamond set in each scalloping scroll of silver. Miche had somewhat exceeded his mandate.

For a moment, they looked at the rings together, and then her eyes lifted to his as they spoke as one.

“With you, I will share my hearth and my home. The products of my labors.” Together, they slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers. “With you, I will share all my joys and sorrows, for all the days of my life.”

The pattern was done. The Prior slipped it loose from their wrists, a perfect weaving, reflective, recursive, infinite. He lifted it over his head, that all the witnesses might see.

It was done. Remin was married. And no power on earth could undo it.

The light of the stars faded. Ophele tried to withdraw her hands, but Remin held them tightly, his heart thumping with emotions even he couldn’t identify. Triumph. Happiness. Grief that his parents had not lived to see him wed. Satisfaction that he was moving, step by step, toward restoring so many things that had been lost. And looking into the eyes of his new wife, uncertainty about what lay ahead, because she was the daughter of his enemy.

“On this, the fourth day of March in the 826thyear of the Divine House of Agnephus, I witness this marriage on behalf of the Temple of the Stars, and attest the shining of the stars upon it,” the Prior concluded, and bowed his gray head, smiling. “Your Grace, you may seal this covenant, and kiss your bride.”

When Remin bent to kiss her, it was only the second time in his life that he had kissed any woman. The back of his neck heated, aware that the Knights of the Brede had a reputation to uphold and that he had a certaindignity to maintain before the eyes of half of Celderline. But her lips were red and yielding and she smelled as if she had come from a bed of roses. Remin’s hand sank into her soft hair to hold her in place, feeling the hesitant response of her mouth under his. It was as if someone was gently rubbing silk against his lips, and the surprising pleasure of the sensation made him lean into her for a moment before he collected himself.

Lifting his head, he had to force his usual impassive mask back into place, nodding to the Prior to continue. The man was dignified in his advanced age, raising his hands in benediction to the new couple.

“To the people of Celderline and all people under the dominion of the stars, I present the Duke and Duchess of Andelin!”

The cheers spread from inside the temple to the streets of the city as the temple bells tolled the news of the duke’s marriage, and still Remin’s knights were the loudest of all.

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