Page 17 of The Curse Between Us

It should have been a comfort. A reassurance. But it only made Zephyr’s guilt swell, knotting in his stomach. "How could you not?" he whispered, his gaze falling to his hands. The hands that, for all their strength, could never touch Edric without causing them both immense pain. "At least you and Marsh would have been able to have a physical relationship." The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but they were the truth. The one thing he feared most about this marriage was the cruel impossibility of touch.

Edric’s response was immediate, his posture shifting as if to assert something deep and personal. "Do you think that matters so much to me?" His voice was low, a little rough. "Or is it that it matters so much to you?" He stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he moved away. "Are you asking my permission to take a lover once you return to your land? Is that what this is?"

Zephyr’s eyes widened in shock, the words striking him harder than he expected. He shot to his feet, his arms crossing over his chest instinctively. "Of course not!" he hissed, his voice sharp with indignation. "I would not dishonor my vows—or you—by doing such a thing." A thought struck him then, and he paused, his gaze narrowing in sudden suspicion. "Is that what you want?" he demanded, his voice rising. "Did you mean to ask me the same thing?"

Edric dropped his head into his hands, the weight of the conversation visibly pressing down on him. After a long, drawn-out sigh, he lifted his head, his gaze fixed on Zephyr. "No," he said, his voice muffled by his frustration. "You were the one who raised the matter of physical contact."

The room fell into a heavy silence as they stood facing one another, the tension thick and palpable. Slowly, Zephyr’s breathing began to steady, and his mind cleared from the haze of anger and confusion. It hadn’t been the best way to handle the conversation, but it was an important one nevertheless.

Edric seemed to come to the same conclusion, his posture softening as he took a step forward, his expression shifting into one of weariness. "Have we just had our first quarrel?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if unsure how to break the tension that had settled between them.

Startled into laughter, Zephyr moved closer as well, a sense of awkward tension easing between them. “Yes,” he said, his voice lighter than it had been. “I believe we have.”

“It’s probably for the best,” Edric continued, his tone thoughtful, yet tinged with the kind of weariness that came from grappling with difficult truths. “We know next to nothing about one another, Zephyr, and up until now, we’ve been polite strangers to each other. If we are to make this work—both the marriage and the alliance—it would be best to show our true selves, would it not?”

Zephyr leaned back slightly, considering Edric’s words. There was wisdom in them, even if the realization made him uncomfortable. This marriage, this union that was supposed to secure peace and solidify an alliance, had been conceived from duty, not affection. The politeness they had shared over the past days had been an armor, both protective and distancing. But now, there was something else, a shift in the air between them. The unspoken had been given voice, and now they were left to deal with it.

“Indeed,” Zephyr agreed, nodding slowly. He sank back into his seat, his posture more relaxed now that the first tension had been broken. He propped his chin on his hands, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “In the interest of honesty, then, Edric, let me say this: I will not take a lover, no matter the state of our marriage. And I would expect the same of you.”

Edric’s response was simple, but it held the weight of understanding. He dropped a gracious bow, his gaze steady and sincere. “Yes,” was all he said, but in it, Zephyr could hear an unspoken promise.

The silence stretched for a moment before Edric’s eyes brightened, his face taking on a more determined expression. “And now that the matter has been settled and we have efficiently fought and resolved our first argument,” he said with a slight smile, “I will ask you what I came here to ask you tonight: is there anything I can do for you, Zephyr, to make this easier for you?”

The sincerity in Edric’s voice struck Zephyr with its unexpected depth. He had come here not to further the tension, but to offer something—anything—that might ease Zephyr’s burden. For a fleeting moment, Zephyr thought of requesting something simple, something that could put the moment to rest, like asking for a moment of peace or some small comfort. But in the end, there was nothing he could think of that would beenough, nothing that would fix the unease that had settled deep within him.

“No,” Zephyr said slowly, his words carefully chosen. “Your visit has been comfort enough.”

At that, Edric’s expression softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentle smile. “Very well, then,” he said, and with one final bow, he turned for the door.

But as he reached the door, he paused, his hand resting lightly on the wooden surface. There was something about the moment, a quiet understanding that lingered, that held him there for just a second longer. He looked over his shoulder at Zephyr. “Until tomorrow, Zephyr.”

“Until tomorrow, Edric.” Zephyr answered him with a bow of his own, watching as Edric gave one last look over his shoulder before stepping out and closing the door softly behind him.

The room seemed colder without his presence. The air felt denser, as though Edric had carried the warmth of the conversation with him, leaving Zephyr alone to wrestle with his own thoughts. It was a peculiar feeling, this emptiness. For once, he did not welcome the chill that now seemed to fill the space.

Zephyr sighed, rubbing a hand across his face as if to shake off the lingering tension. He moved to the candles, blowing them out one by one. The soft glow of the flames flickered out, and the room was cast into a deeper darkness. The night was quiet, almost too quiet, and the weight of what lay ahead pressed heavily on his chest.

He quickly changed into the light linen nightshirt that had been provided for him, the soft fabric a contrast to the tightness in his chest. He climbed into the bed, the sheets cool against his skin, but no matter how comfortable the bed might have been, sleep did not come easily. His mind raced, replayingthe conversation with Edric in fragments, trying to decipher the layers of meaning in the words they had exchanged.

The weight of the wedding tomorrow, the alliance, the expectations, and the uncertainty of it all seemed to press down on him, keeping him wide awake long into the night. It was as though every question, every doubt, every emotion that had been buried beneath the surface was rising up, refusing to be ignored any longer. How much of himself could he afford to give? How much of Edric’s trust could he place in the uncertain future that lay ahead?

The thought of tomorrow, of the wedding, and all that it would entail, seemed both too distant and too close at once. Zephyr sighed again, shifting restlessly under the sheets. It was a long time before sleep finally claimed him, and even then, his dreams were filled with a swirling mess of images—some comforting, others unsettling—until the quiet of the early morning finally settled over him.

???

The marriage ceremony took place at noon, when the sun stood at its peak, casting a golden light that seemed to promise a bright future.

Zephyr entered the temple unescorted, choosing to walk alone. He left Eileen and Victor to join the crowd of assembled spectators, who were murmuring excitedly as they watched the ceremony unfold. The silence in the temple seemed to deepen as Zephyr stepped forward, and in the quiet, his heart beat faster, his steps heavier. The cool stone of the floor beneath his boots felt both grounding and foreign as he moved toward the altar.

At the altar, Edric stood waiting for him. The sunlight poured in from the high windows, catching the burnished strands of Edric’s hair and making it glow like a halo. He wasdressed in a rich scarlet shirt, the fabric tight across his chest and shoulders, highlighting the strength in his build. The shirt tucked neatly into loose buff trousers, which disappeared into brown leather boots. His gloves, stitched with gold, matched the rest of his attire in their rich elegance.

Zephyr felt a jolt in his chest, a rush of admiration for the man before him. He looked beautiful, radiant even. The word was simple, but it captured the truth of the moment. And as their eyes met, something shifted in Edric’s gaze. The tightness that had gripped him seemed to ease, as though he had been bracing himself for something, expecting Zephyr not to show, not to come through. But now, seeing him there, Edric’s hand extended toward Zephyr, the gesture gentle, almost tentative.

Zephyr, without hesitation, moved forward, taking Edric’s hand in his. The moment their gloved palms touched, Edric squeezed his hand softly, grounding him, as though reminding him that they were in this together. For a moment, Zephyr felt the weight of the entire world on his shoulders, but Edric’s touch, firm and steady, eased that burden.

Hadley, once again draped in her ceremonial gold robes, stepped forward with a clear, commanding presence. She raised her arms above her head and began to speak, her voice rich and full. “We gather here today to mark a momentous occasion,” she said. “For not only is this a union of two persons, but of two kingdoms.”

Edric’s grip on Zephyr’s hand tightened, just for an instant, then relaxed again. Zephyr glanced at him, a silent question in his eyes. Edric met his gaze briefly and shook his head, as though dismissing the brief moment of anxiety. A flash of nervousness, most likely. Zephyr understood. If anything were to go wrong, if anything were to threaten their plans, it was bound to happen now, in the moments before the vows were spoken.

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