Chapter Thirty-Six

 

 

Mar listened to the bickering and the fighting, as she drifted through the crowd to Jer's side. Laying a hand on her belly, she looked to the steward and tried to see him as her father. He had been so young when she was born that it was difficult to see him as anyone's father.

“If anyone tries something that you would need to see to as queen, Olea will step in,” Jer said sternly. “Do not stress yourself or the babe over it. Once you give birth then you can pounce, but not before.”

“I can care for myself.”

“Your mother had a difficult time with you, Mar. I don't want to lose you, or my grandchild because you were stubborn.”

“Very well, Father,” she said.

“Don't say 'Father' as if I've no place.”

Mar stuck her tongue out and made a rude sound before she walked off. She found Telm and linked arms with the woman as ladies wept into their handkerchiefs.

“It was such a beautiful ceremony, and those vows? One never expects poetry from a warrior, but that? Who needs anything more than 'I am yours' to know one is loved, truly? Such simple vows and yet so powerful. My dear Telm, did you give them instruction on what they should say to one another?”

“No, that was entirely them.”

“Why didn't she say that she was his?” demanded one frustrated young lady. “I think it's just a ridiculous waste of good blood. Good man, that's what that is, a good man gone to waste on someone who doesn't even realize he exists and all he can do is pine after her like some love-struck fool. Where does that leave us?”

“Aren's mated him,” Mar said. “If you've a problem with that, take it up with him.”

“Why don't I take it up with her instead?” the lady snapped.

“I thought it might save your life if you take it up with Av instead,” Mar said, trying to remain calm. “If you take your complaint to Aren, she may take it to heart, and she may even refuse to tell Av. However, he would get it out of her eventually. At some point she would let slip that one of the ladies said just such a thing and he will sweep through all of the ladies, not just you.

“You might not step forward, but one of your friends would, and she would tell Lord Av just what you said and how you said it. Then he would come see you and by this point his rage would be boiling. We all know what happens when a warrior rages.”

Olea stepped up beside Mar. The queen had her nose in the air when she reached out and swatted the lady in question. Mar turned with a gasp to Telm for help. The head of house's eyebrows were raised as she turned to Olea.

“Is that not the way of it?” Olea asked. “I am standing as queen to prevent any damage coming to my niece and her babe. I am rank, she is commoner. She had a smart mouth, now her mouth knows what happens if it flaps when it should not. Does anyone question what I will do to the next person to be rude at this ceremony and festivity?”

The gathered ladies gave a muttered response, their eyes on the ground.

“Good. Joy and happiness, ladies. The one who sits the throne is mated to an honourable man with good blood. If that's not enough to be joyous over, recall, the cellars have been thrown open and drink will flow freely for all after dinner, and the children toddle off. Except Mar. Drink is not good for the babe, after all.”

“Let's start moving everyone into the palace and the hall,” Telm said to the ladies gathered. “Collect at least one lord each and start the procession.”

“What about the couple?” asked an older lady. “Palace tradition dictates they lead the way into the hall.”

“We will have to stand in,” Telm said. “You and I, we will stand in for them. As much as, yes, palace tradition is very important, I don't believe it would be safe for us to interrupt their Northern tradition. I also do not want to risk anyone's health by remaining outside longer than necessary. Myself, I am older, I know there are ladies here older than me even, so we should move inside.”

“Why does the Northern tradition take precedence over palace tradition?” the same lady asked.

“Because Av wants to honour this tradition,” Telm said.

“And?” asked another lady. “He was raised on palace grounds.”

“He wants to honour his bloodline,” Telm said.

“Oh, for the sake of the spirits,” Olea said loudly. “The man is a warrior. Would you like to stop him from doing as he pleases? Because by all means, go interrupt him. A warrior who kills just before or during his mating ceremony is blessed with many children. So please, go do that. It will be a great lesson to everyone else as to his temper and their futures under his rule.”

The ladies were silent. Then the one whom Telm had selected to stand in with her as the couple, stepped forward.

“What would Lady Aren say to this tradition being altered?” the woman asked.

“I believe she would ask how the couple felt,” Telm said calmly. “She would likely say that a mating ceremony, while it is for those attending, it is also about the couple.”

The woman took in a deep breath and offered Telm her arm. Telm took it and smiled at the woman.

“Come, come,” the woman called as she led Telm off. “Come along, everyone, come along! Into the hall!”

Mar remained still as the crowd began moving around her. Commoners followed after Telm and the woman, their conversation shifting towards the festivities to happen over the course of the night.

She turned and looked behind her. Those who remained rooted in place were all ranks. Ervam strolled forward, the only rank who was moving. He stopped at a few healers who had dared venture from the hall to witness the mating. They left, following after the crowd.

Ervam motioned to the remaining ranks and they came to him, barons and high lords, a few faces that Mar didn't recognize.

“Interference is the name of the game we play tonight,” he said to those gathered. “It is not yet time to try his temper. There will be plenty of time for that, later. The commoners should be taken by whatever mood is flowing through them, and if we pause long enough, we might feel it. Iln, darling, you're usually the first to know.”

“I don't think it's for me to say,” Iln said quietly, a red colouring her cheeks.

“Just tell us a good or bad,” Gamen, her mate, said.

“If anyone interferes, he will spill blood. If anyone touches her, he will break a bone at the very least. It would be best to separate them for a little time, which means a dance. Someone has to be sacrifice.”

“Why are we separating them?” Mar asked.

“To show them that they don't want to be removed from one another right now,” Er said.

“I'll do it,” Url said. “It'll give... it'll settle things.”

“No,” Lerd said. “I'll do it because there's nothing to settle. We don't want bloodshed. We want someone he won't dare take, but not family. Family is safe. It's not separated.”

“I can take him,” Url snarled back.

“Good, because you may have to,” Lerd responded calmly. “Your father filled me in. You walk a very fine line, young warrior. I'll take the lady for a dance. He won't try me.”

“Mar, stay away from Av tonight,” Ervam said, the trainer motioning to her belly. “As much as that is a joy, let's not risk putting that thought in his head until Aren has a chance to get her feet under her. You walk on by and he'll start that thing.”

“What thing?” Mar asked.

Er grinned and chuckled as Olea made a little sound of appreciation.

“Seclusion and sex until the woman is pregnant,” Jer said. “It's rare, actually.”

“Not for a Marilton,” Olea said with a little giggle as she shifted towards her mate. He wrapped a possessive arm around her.

“I don't want to risk it,” Ervam said to the air in front of him. He sighed, then looked at Mar. “You know Aren. As much as she might be taken by the whole act of it, if she ends up pregnant now, when she never intended to mate in the first place, there will be anger and hatred.”

“I...” Mar sighed. Her shoulders slumped. “I know you're right, but I want to be there for them.”

“Be there tomorrow. When you need to start kicking anyone who wanders too close to the queen's rooms, and I mean it. Kick and hit and bite anyone who comes too close, and if they protest, go crying to Perlon. I'll have a chat with him and have him start doing the same. A man has a right to defend his mate no matter whether he holds rank or not.”

“But that's not how I—”

“Either you kick and bite, or Av starts killing people,” Ervam said.

Mar fell silent.

The mate to the throne had all the freedom that the one who sat the throne granted him. Aren might protest Av murdering someone, but then someone would still be dead no matter the outcome. Av had the temper to become violent with someone who interfered. There was no telling how far that temper would go if he were tried at that point.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we know she has problems, we know her emotions are not where they should be, but when she feels, she feels a great deal. We know his temper, we know his rank, we know his violence and destruction. He's already blooded a man and that means he can slip into it as easily as a commoner can be stupid.”

“Not all commoners are stupid,” Perlon said, stepping up beside Mar.

He offered her his arm and she took it with a smile.

“You know what I mean,” Ervam said. “Aren may have been unstable before, but now she's a man to back her, and as much as the court doesn't see it, they are a very good pair for one another. We must expect changes. Men, if your woman isn't clawing at you shortly, talk to him, coach him. Women, if you aren't clawing at your man, please do everyone—including yourselves—a favour, and find out if it is a block on her end.

“We are here to make them happy, to set them on the path of a good, healthy relationship.”

“She thinks her time with Av is good,” Mar said.

“A woman has fun like a man does,” Olea chimed in.

“Yes, but not every time,” Perlon said.

Every woman present turned to him, then looked at Mar, who felt as if she would melt, there was so much heat flushing through her face.

“Let's practice,” Ervam said. “Perlon, you play Av. Mar, you play Aren. Everyone else, this is your couple and he found his goal, but she did not. Go.”