«I told you he would — at least for the feast», Kenneth replied, though he smiled as he said it. «He is a good friend of this family, Alyce».
«He is», she agreed. «Pray, excuse me».
«Of course».
As she started toward him, he moved farther into the shadows just inside the doorway, laying a hand across his heart and inclining his head in wordless greeting as she joined him. He was leaner than when last she had seen him, at her son’s christening, shedding weight from a frame already lean and fit, and further refining the high cheekbones, the narrow, aristocratic nose. The close-clipped beard and mustache underlined the new refinement, made him look more lethal. His eyes were still the same startling blue, but with a harder edge.
Only the white belt of his knighthood relieved the stark simplicity of the ankle-length black robe he wore, fastened at the shoulder in the Eastern manner. A few strands of silver threaded the chestnut hair at the temples and in the braid sleeked back and clubbed at the nape of the neck in an intricate warrior’s knot.
«Sé», she breathed, only the shhh sound really audible.
«My lady». He inclined his head again.
«Kenneth said you would come, but I wasn’t sure», she replied. «You have been long silent».
He allowed himself a faint smile, a tendril of his thought caressing her mind in something of the old friendship they had shared since childhood.
«I could not miss Jovett’s wedding», he said.
«Were you there, or did you only just arrive?» she asked softly. «I did not see you in the chapel».
Another faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth. «You were otherwise occupied, and I did not mean to be seen. I have learned a great deal since we last met. But did you really think I would not come?»
«No», she replied, affection lighting her eyes. «You have never, ever failed me».
«Nor shall I, while I live», he replied, taking her hands to kiss first one, then the other. As he did so, turning his own hands slightly upward, she caught a glimpse of indigo now marking the insides of his wrists: the thumb-sized crosses denoting a fully vowed Knight of the Anvil.
«You did it», she breathed, holding fast to one of his hands when he would have drawn back, and turning his wrist more toward the light. «So, it’s true, what they say about the Anvillers».
He smiled and averted his hands, though he closed her hands in his as he gazed into her eyes.
«And what do they say about the Anvillers?» he murmured.
«That after making final profession, they are marked at wrists, ankles, and side, as a reminder of Christ’s holy wounds», she replied.
He inclined his head in agreement. «’Tis true, though propriety constrains me from showing you the others just now».
«Why, Sir Sé!» she murmured with raised eyebrows, then sobered. «Is it permitted to ask why it is done?»
«You may ask — and I’ll even answer», he added, to forestall the beginning of her surprise. «Final vows are solemn, and cannot be rescinded. Nor may we ever deny what we are, if asked. These permanent marks remind us of that». He smiled a mirthless smile. «It keeps us honest».
«More than that, I think», she murmured, smiling a little herself. «The Anvillers are held to be incorruptible. Has it ever happened, that one did not keep faith?»
«Not in living memory».
He glanced around — they seemed to be inside a bubble, for all the attention anyone paid them — then returned his gaze to hers.
«I cannot stay», he murmured. «How is my godson?»
She smiled. «He flourishes, he grows stronger and more clever with each passing day. Would you like to see him?»
«I watched him playing in the garden with the other boys», Sé replied. «That young knight who has charge of him: You have a loyal retainer in that one, Alyce. Cherish him».
She laughed lightly. «’Twas Alaric himself who chose Llion. The two are devoted to one another. Other than you and Jovett, I cannot think of a better mentor and guardian in these early years».
«In all humility, I shall take that as the compliment I am certain you intended». He lifted one of her hands to kiss it again, then firmly put it from him. «I must go now».
«So soon?» she protested. «Kenneth would love to see you, I’m sure».
He shook his head, faintly amused. «It will be enough for him that you saw me. Be well, Alyce, and know that I will always come if you are in need».
With that, he was gone, almost as if he had simply disappeared, though her mind knew that it was but one of the skills he had learned from the Anvillers: the art of stealth. She was smiling faintly as she made her way back to her husband’s side and took his hand as she settled beside him.
«Is he well?» Kenneth asked softly, searching her eyes.
«Aye, he is. A most remarkable man is our Sir Sé».
A little later, when the wedding feast had ended and dusk was settling onto the hills around Cynfyn, the women of the bridal party sang the bride to her bridal chamber, led by Alyce, Vera, and the bride’s sisters. The various aunties and the two sisters from Arc-en-Ciel brought up the rear.
Inside, the marriage bed had been readied by Alyce’s maids, the bedding made fragrant with herbs, the silken coverlet turned back and the pillows strewn with rose petals. It was the castle’s best chamber, lent to the happy couple by Alyce and Kenneth for the wedding night.
When Zoë had been divested of her bridal finery and dressed in a new undershift of fine white linen, her wheaten hair loose on her shoulders, the women tucked her up beneath the canopy embroidered with the arms of Lendour and all of them left her save for Alyce, as the strains of another bridal song drifted gradually closer, sung by male voices as the groom’s friends sang him to his bride.
«They’re coming», Zoë whispered, eyes wide as she reached out to take Alyce’s hand. «Oh, Alyce, I am so happy. Everything has been so beautiful. Thank you so much!»
«’Tis no more than you deserve, sweet sister», Alyce murmured, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the forehead. «Now take your joy of one another, and forget about anything else».
Zoë only nodded, though impulsively she seized Alyce’s hand again and briefly drew it nearer to press it to her cheek before releasing it. Alyce, as she withdrew to the door, blew her heart-sister another kiss, then set her hand on the door latch as the song outside finished and there came a soft rap at the door.
Wordlessly she opened it and stepped aside to admit the eager bridegroom, robed in red and accompanied by his father and Kenneth, who led Jovett to the marriage bed and helped him slide beneath the bedclothes beside his waiting bride. Behind them came the priest who had conducted the wedding ceremony, carrying a small silver bowl of water with a sprig of evergreen protruding from its edge. Beyond him, other men of the party stood in the corridor and into the stairwell, softly singing the final refrain of their song.
In the stillness that followed, the priest came into the room to pronounce a final blessing and sprinkle bed, bride, and groom with holy water. He then withdrew with Kenneth and Sir Pedur as the men and women joined in a third bridal song, this one weaving the harmonies of the surrounding hills and gradually dying away as the singers dispersed.
Sweetly moved, Alyce slipped her hand into Kenneth’s as they followed the others back into the hall and Alyce made certain of the accommodations for those staying the night within the castle walls. It seemed to take a very long time. Kenneth, when he had finally seen off the last of his eldest daughter’s wedding guests and bidden his other two daughters a fond good night, drew Alyce with him back up the stairs and then — suddenly — into a shadowed alcove, where he enfolded her in a crushing kiss whose heat quickly stirred both of them to passion.