“Sorry. Was that too polite? I will be more direct. I am saying that Cameron is such a man and that any witch would rouse him. Can rouse him. So don’t give him your heart. As I said, northerners are wild. They like their passions. But, in my experience, they also have limited attention spans. And, Sophie, I do speak from experience.”
Sophie felt as though she’d been slapped. Had Eloisa . . . with Cameron? Suddenly the room seemed severely lacking in air.
“Oh, don’t look so stricken,” Eloisa said, still in that cool voice. “If I wanted him back, I would have taken him back by now. No, the next man I take to my bed will be my consort, and Cameron doesn’t qualify for that role. I just wanted you to know the truth of it. After all, dear, this is a world arranged to benefit men. So it doesn’t do to give them extra advantages by being foolish. Royal marriages are alliances, not affairs of the heart. You should keep that in mind.” She smiled then, though there was little warmth in it. “After all, you have proven useful so far. So I would rather have you undistracted by heartbreak when he grows tired of you.” She stretched again and yawned. “Now, off to bed with you. You should rest whilst you can these next days. After all, it doesn’t do for a bride to look exhausted on her wedding day.”
He really should have accepted Liam’s offer of Iska for breakfast. Cameron couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this nervous but suspected it had probably been before his very first battle. That time he’d ended up emptying the contents of his stomach behind a handy bush.
Couldn’t do that this time.
A vomiting bridegroom wasn’t exactly dignified. Or desirable. Liam and Alec would never let him live it down. Nor would his fellow guards. Plus, it was entirely possible that Domina Skey would gut him if he puked in the temple.
Should’ve had the Iska. Iska calmed the nerves nicely. Or at least made you not care that you were nervous.
Nothing to be nervous about, he told himself firmly. It was almost noon, and that meant that very soon Sophie would come into the temple and her father would place her hand in his and they would be married. And this entire ordeal would be over and everyone would leave them alone.
At least he hoped.
He couldn’t quite shake Lord Sylvain’s warnings from his mind. The erl had sought him out again at the coronation ball. He’d offered him a hearty—and Cameron thought heartfelt—congratulatory speech. And then he’d reminded Cameron not to forget Louisa before he’d vanished back into the whirling dancing court and been lost to sight.
Cameron hadn’t seen him in the day that had passed since. The commander had taken pity on him and, in a rare show of empathy, swapped his duty to daytime so he wouldn’t have to stand watch the night before his wedding. He’d also been given a week’s leave, generous under the circumstances to—as the commander had put it—become more acquainted with his new wife after the wedding. But even with day duty, assigned again to stand witness for the Illusioners in the Salt Hall, Cameron hadn’t seen Lord Sylvain.
He’d barely seen Sophie, either. He’d hoped that, with the coronation over, the queen might have fewer demands on her ladies’ time, but apparently not.
It was hardly proper to attempt to visit her late at night—it would no doubt lead only to something they might regret—and it was unfair to deprive her of what little sleep she was able to get.
This wedding business was harder on women after all. He’d had to get his dress uniform cleaned—Liam had pushed for Inglewood colors, but Cameron had killed that idea—and pick out a wedding gift for his wife along with a wedding band. Both the gifts were taken care of with a single visit to the court jeweler, who’d been more than eager to please the future husband of the newest royal witch. And Jeanne had taken his uniform in hand.
Whereas Sophie, no doubt, had a lot more on her plate. They weren’t having a grand ball or anything after the wedding, just a smaller dinner with family and some friends—Cameron’s closest from the Red Guards and Sophie’s from the ladies-in-waiting and a few other girls near her age who’d come up from her parents’ estate. But that was one more thing she had to be involved in arranging. Then there was the matter of the wedding dress.
He really wanted to see her in a wedding dress. She’d looked beautiful at the coronation, polished perfection but almost too perfect. Without so much pressure on the occasion as a coronation, perhaps she wouldn’t be primped to within quite such an inch of her life. She’d still be beautiful, but she would look more like Sophie.
And she’d be his.
He was looking forward to that part most of all, even though the thought of it, of peeling her out of her wedding gown and taking her to bed, made his mouth dry and his stomach clench all over again. He would have time to do things properly. To go slowly. To show her how it could be between a man and a woman. The thought made his cock harden, and he was glad of the disguising length of his uniform jacket.
He took a deep breath, and Liam, standing beside him, gave him a sympathetic look.
“Not much longer, little brother. This is the worst part.”
Cameron squared his shoulders. Both his brothers had survived getting married. He would, too. Of course, neither of them had married a royal witch.
A royal witch who had failed the goddess’s rituals.
They were to undergo the binding of husband and wife after the marriage ceremony. The Domina had informed them, mouth flattened in disapproval, that it must be attempted, even though she had no idea if it would be successful. She seemed to think that if Cameron wasn’t going to benefit from his witchly wife as other men did, it was his own fault for giving in to lust and ruining Sophie.
He wasn’t overly concerned about it. He had magic of his own, and he and Sophie had already channeled power together in a small way in the garden. If he ever needed her help, no doubt she would give it if she could. He’d rather a gift freely given than one forced from the giver anyway.