Every courtier had dressed in his or her finest as well, draped in jewels that undoubtedly all had their own stories and histories. The West Room had been chosen for the site of the wedding, but it had been transformed with lush red carpets everywhere and golden ribbons dangling from the arched ceiling. On a dais, Queen Naelin waited with her children beside her, both dressed in gold and silver. Hanna felt Ven slow, nearly forgetting to walk, much less push her, when the two queens came into view.
Queen Merecot was beautiful, of course, in a midnight-blue gown, with her hair with its white streak artfully arranged to gleam in the sunlight that poured through the high windows. But Queen Naelin had also been transformed into an elegant creature out of legend. She looked serene, dressed in an exquisite gown of pale green, the color of new leaves in the spring. She didn’t wear a single Semoian jewel but instead had living vines wrapped around her bare arms. The leaves were deep green, all except for one golden leaf at the hollow of her throat.
Hanna sighed happily.
Whatever the reason, however ridiculous the extravagance, this would count as the pinnacle of her career: facilitating the wedding of the Mother of Aratay to the Hero of the Forest and cementing peaceful relations between Aratay and Semo.
She cried a few polite, happy tears, along with everyone else when the couple exchanged their vows—heartfelt declarations of love, in voices that carried through the West Room—and she cheered with everyone else when Champion Ven and Queen Naelin kissed, elegantly, framed by the sun that poured through the windows.
Hanna was beside them with a perfect view as they turned to face the adoring crowd.
And the look on the bride’s face was such a perfect mix of joy and sorrow that it nearly broke Hanna’s heart. Oh spirits, Hanna thought as her cheers faded in her throat. She’s found her perfect happiness . . . and she’s just realized that tonight, in the grove, she might lose it.
Chapter 22
Erian loved every second of the wedding:
How happy Mama looked.
How happy Ven looked.
How pretty the castle was.
How everyone cheered.
How she was asked to stand with Llor beside her mother for the ceremony. She’d been given a royal jewel to hold, the Diamond of Eternity, which was supposed to symbolize everlasting love. There was a story that went with it, about a queen who’d married a man who worked in a diamond mine. On the day he proposed, he found this stone lying next to his pickax, as if it had been left for him—he took it as a sign of their love. The courtier said that on their wedding day, it rained diamonds, which Erian thought sounded painful.
She cheered with everyone when the bride and groom kissed, and her mother kissed her forehead as Erian placed the Diamond of Eternity on a pedestal beside them.
And then she and Llor were ushered out of the West Room to the cheers and the music. Now we’ll go home, all together, and it will be perfect. Maybe their father could live near them. She wondered if they’d still live in the palace in Mittriel, or if they’d live in the outer forest. Mama likes the outer forest, but the palace is nice too.
Llor clung to her hand, close by her side, as they were shooed up a tower into a room near the top, to wait for their mother and Ven. It was a nice room: two fluffy beds piled with pillows, a couch by a fireplace, a table with a tower of pastries. A wide window with a view of the mountains was open, and a sweet breeze wafted inside. Releasing Erian’s hand, Llor beelined for the pastries and stuffed one in his mouth.
Then they were left alone, which was pretty much the first time they’d been alone since their arrival in Semo. Or almost alone—Erian knew there were guards just outside, several of Queen Merecot’s best. She tried not to mind that they were always guarded. After all, they’d been guarded in Mittriel too. And at least these new guards were human, instead of spirit.
“I want Mama and Ven,” Llor said loudly, still chewing the pastry. Crumbs dribbled down his shirt. “Why can’t we stay with them?”
“Because that’s not how they do weddings here.”
They’d been told they couldn’t stay for the entire wedding. Children weren’t allowed—another Semoian tradition, like the Diamond of Eternity. She knew Mama and Ven had argued against that, but Queen Merecot had overruled them. “Her land, her traditions,” Mama had told Erian. “Be a good girl and look after your brother. Try to get some sleep. We’ll have a long journey tomorrow.”
“But they missed us. They said so.” His lower lip was quivering, still dotted with crumbs. Oh no, tantrum coming! Erian thought.
Crossing to him, she knelt quickly and hugged him, which was awkward in her dress. The satin creaked when she stretched her arms out. “Don’t worry. After we’re home, we’re all going to be together forever and ever. That’s what the wedding meant.”
He nodded, and then his eyes widened. “Then why are they here?”
He pointed over her shoulder, and she turned.
Two very familiar air spirits had landed in the open window. They had leathery skin and vicious beaks, and Erian was certain these were the spirits that had ripped them from Bayn’s back. She pushed Llor behind her and backed slowly toward the door.
Llor broke away from her and ran toward the door. He screamed as he tugged on it. She ran to him, helping him pull. “Help!” she yelled. “Guards, help us! Please, help!”
The door didn’t open.
And no one came.
She felt talons close over her shoulders, and she was yanked backward, out the window. Llor was screaming too as he was pulled by the second spirit, also out the window. They were carried away from the castle, away from their mother and Ven, away from their perfect future.
Hand in hand with her new husband, Naelin faced the cheering crowds of Semoians and wished Erian and Llor had been permitted to stay—she’d told them it was because of tradition, because she didn’t want to scare them with the truth: they were still prisoners, at least until the transfer of spirits was complete. She hated being parted from them, even if it was just for a few hours.
Better that they don’t worry, she comforted herself.
At least they wouldn’t be nearby when Naelin and Merecot went into the grove.
Queen Merecot whispered in her ear, “Well done. An Aratayian queen wedding her champion on Semoian soil is a diplomatic coup of the highest order—you’ve made my people feel lots of warm and fuzzy thoughts toward your wooded homeland.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“And I’m not planning to kill you tonight, so there’s that to be happy about too. Now smile at the nice, cheering people.”
Naelin didn’t find that very reassuring. There were so many ways tonight could go wrong, even with the best intentions. But she plastered a smile on her face, because that’s what the crowd needed to see, and she continued to smile while she watched the traditional dances performed in her and Ven’s honor. Clapped when she was supposed to clap. Bowed when she was supposed to bow. And tried to appreciate it when a gold-clad woman hailed as the singer with the highest voice in the land proceeded to pierce everyone’s eardrums with an absurdly shrill aria.
“Sira would have loved that,” Ven murmured.
She glanced at him to see if he was joking.
He wasn’t.
They smiled at each other.
Beyond him, the sun had nearly reached the western mountains. Already the sky wore a rosy tinge. She blinked from the blaze of the sun as it streamed through the wall of windows. Jewel-toned glass framed each of the windows, casting pools of colored light.
As soon as this is over, we can all go home. Together.
Softly, so her voice wouldn’t carry, Queen Merecot said, “As the poets would say, when the mountains pierce the sun so deeply that it bleeds, we will go. Truly, you could not have picked a better distraction for my people. Everyone loves a wedding and all the implied happy-ending nonsense.”
“Your soldiers will barricade the castle?” Ven asked, in an equally soft voice.
Merecot nodded. “Yes. No spirits will enter here. I’ve told them it’s out of an overabundance of caution. Weddings are special, you know.”
“This one is,” Ven agreed.