Regardless, I was not ready to be anyone’s bride.
I did not want this.
Imri touched my arm. “Don’t be nervous, my lady. You’ll do fine.”
I smiled over at her and tossed back my head. “Of course.”
I wasn’t sure what it meant to “do fine” in regard to one’s marriage, but that seemed like an attainable goal. I would marry Basil and “do fine.” Years and years and years at his side, doing fine.
The herald continued, “Please join Sir Henry in welcoming his daughter, Lady Kestra Dallisor. By the end of the evening, she will be the bride of Sir Basil the Fifth, son of King Albert and heir to the throne of Reddengrad.”
Enthusiastic applause rose from the crowd, and my ladies practically pushed me into the ballroom. Basil walked onto the dais, gave me a respectful bow, then wrapped his arms around my waist and surprised me with a kiss.
It wasn’t our first kiss, of course, but this one was more passionate than before, as if he’d been caught up in the excitement of the crowd, or perhaps he wanted them to see the love between us. The love that was supposed to be between us. My father assured me those feelings would come over time, as it had for him and my mother. Memories of my mother were some of the most painful losses from my fall, and I missed her all the more today because of that. When we parted, Basil kept one arm around my waist and waved to the audience, drawing another cheer.
Only then did I really get my first look at the people who had come. They whispered to one another while smiling at me and nodding in approval. Everyone appeared just as they ought to at a pre-wedding party.
Except for one guard at the back of the room. The visor of his helmet was pushed low and his head was down, so I couldn’t see his face, but that wasn’t necessary. Both hands were balled into fists and one was pounding against his thigh. He was angry. As soon as I had the chance, I’d speak to my father about removing him.
With Basil a sudden fixture at my side, we began circling the room, greeting the guests and receiving their good wishes. I smiled at each of them, said the things it felt like I ought to say, and snuggled against Basil whenever he gave my side a squeeze.
But I couldn’t get my mind off the guard in the back of the room. From different positions, I caught different parts of his face. The angle of his jaw, set forward. His lips pressed together in a tight frown. I even saw the corner of his eye, only for a brief second, but long enough to know he was glaring at me.
At me? Why should he be focused on me? The weight of his half-hidden eyes upon me was tangible, and becoming heavier each minute, but I didn’t want to disrupt the party by having him hauled out. We only had a few minutes until the wedding began anyway.
Indeed, as soon as we finished greeting the last of the guests, the herald said, “Loyalists of the Dominion, a wedding tent has been set up in the ward, on the north end of the property. Our betrothed couple will take their places.”
“Come with me, my love.” Basil took my hand and led me from the ballroom into the gardens. “Are you cold?”
A chill breeze was in the air, sweeping through the layers of my dress. My father had taught me that strength made one resistant to temperature. I didn’t see how that could possibly be true, but it compelled me to shake my head now.
This area of the gardens had few lights tonight, most of the clearstones of Woodcourt being used to light the path the guests were taking toward the wedding arch. I suspected the dark evening worked in Basil’s favor. A mischievous, romantic look gleamed in his eyes.
We stopped in a corner of the gardens, tall hedges behind us and thick bushes in front of us. For a moment, I thought I saw a shadow there, but then a sharper gust of wind caused the bushes to flutter in the wind. It was nothing, only my nerves.
Basil pulled me to him, holding me close around my waist. He studied my face a moment before asking, “Kestra, do you want to marry me?”
“Of course.” What else was I supposed to say, given that our wedding was minutes away? I could hardly tell him that my heart was pounding in my throat and that I’d already considered three escape routes from these gardens.
“If this night goes differently than you expect, will you trust that it’s for your own good?”
What an odd question. I grinned. “Is this a surprise, or a problem?”
“Not a problem, just … a change of plans.”
He continued staring at me, his hands sliding to my shoulders. I lifted my face and accepted his kiss. He clearly had strong feelings for me, and I wondered how it was that I had no strong feelings about anything at all, and certainly not for him.
Something was definitely wrong with me. But if I couldn’t explain that to myself, how could I ever make him understand?
So I kissed him back, with more passion than I felt. I doubted I could pretend my way through an entire marriage, but I could at least manage the next hour until we were wed.
Basil returned for a second kiss, but we were interrupted by a cough, and then the words “Sir Basil, a message has come for you from Reddengrad. The rider is out front.”
It was the guard who had been angry in the ballroom, and though his visor was still low, his emotions were obviously no calmer now. Basil barely looked at him to say, “The rider will have to wait.”
But the guard stepped forward. “He says it is urgent, from your father. It involves a promise you made regarding this wedding.”
Basil’s eyes widened and he released my hand like it stung him. “Forgive me, Kestra, but I must meet him.”