There was a moment of silence then as even more commoners crowded into the room, all craning forward to get their own glimpse of the majesty they demanded from such state occasions. All the players were perfectly still, waiting for the next act.
Areava gently touched Olio’s hand and he stepped forward.
“Who comes b-b-before Areava Rosetheme, daughter of Usharna Rosetheme, queen of Kendra and so through it queen of Grenda Lear and all its realms?”
“It is Prince Sendarus, son of Marin, king of Aman,” Dejanus replied formally.
“What does P-p-prince Sendarus son of M-m-marin want of Queen Areava?”
“To submit to her will.”
Olio turned to his sister. “And in this m-m-matter, what is Queen Areava’s will?”
Areava stood, and the audience, seeing her full gown for the first time, let out a collective sigh. She let her gaze sweep over all the people in the room, settling finally on Prince Sendarus. She swallowed but dared not hesitate. “To take him to me, body and soul. For he is the most loyal and loving of all my subjects.”
The commoners erupted in an approving roar, cheering and clapping. Sendarus’ face broke into a smile of happiness and relief. At that moment Areava felt as if her own personal sun had appeared over her head, and her cold and dread evaporated as if they had never been.
I have done the right thing, she knew with certainty. I have done my duty according to my conscience and my heart.
As was the tradition in Kendra, the wedding ceremony itself was a small and private affair, attended only by Areava with Olio for her guardian, Sendarus with Marin for his, Primate Giros Northam and two witnesses—Harnan and Amemun.
Northam beamed at the couple, and looking a little like a large, overprotective vulture, delivered the marriage rites with stately precision and then joined their hands together. The prince kissed the queen’s palm, and with that became her husband, her consort, and her first subject above all others in the kingdom. For a long while the couple stared into each other’s eyes, the others holding back with a mixture of pride and embarrassment, as if they were overstaying their welcome.
Primate Northam coughed politely into his hands. “Your Majesty, your Highness, your people are waiting. They want a celebration.”
Areava nodded, still locked in Sendarus’ gaze. “Yes, of course. Lead the way.”
Northam went to the door, followed by Harnan and Amemun, then Olio and Marin. Areava and Sendarus stayed where they were. Olio returned to the couple, gently touched his sister’s arm, and whispered to them: “If we return to the throne room without you two, your p-p-people will lynch us.”
Dejanus stepped into the throne room, aware that all eyes were on him, if only for that moment. His huge chest swelled with arrogant pride.
“Her Majesty, Areava, queen of Grenda Lear, and his Highness, Sendarus, the royal consort,” he announced.
Applause filled the chamber as he moved aside to let the wedding party return. There were cheers for Northam, the two guardians, two witnesses, then wild cries of joy as the newly married couple made their first public appearance as queen and consort. Dejanus sensed everyone’s gaze settling on Areava, who looked like a goddess in her gown and with her crown of white flowers, and could not help feeling a little jealous. His chest deflated a little.
The constable watched their procession along the causeway with ironic amusement, knowing the last person in his office to perform as herald had been Kumul, and the occasion the wedding between Usharna and her beloved General, Elynd Chisal. At that time Dejanus had been fighting as a mercenary for the slavers, something unknown to any but Orkid Gravespear. And now here he was, respectable and honored. And powerful.
He looked around the crowd with a great deal of smugness. He noted the city mayor, Shant Tenor, and knew as constable he wielded more power. He saw Xella Povis, head of the merchant guild, and knew he was more powerful than she. He saw the heads of other guilds and dismissed them in his mind. He saw the clerics and magickers, and knew he held more power in his hands than any of them. He saw the chancellor and hurried on. Orkid was easily his match, but he was only one of a very few in the court. The queen, of course. Olio, perhaps, although he was hearing things about him that promised a way around him—or through him if need be. And Sendarus? He was a likable fellow, but weak, Dejanus suspected. The new consort would be no threat. And then the nobles of the Twenty Houses, the traditional source of power in the kingdom. He despised them as much as Areava and Orkid did; if anything, it was this that welded him and Orkid to each other, together with the terrible secret of their crime against Berayma.
As constable of the Royal Guard, he might be able to do something about those inbred pigs. They were parasites, and not worth the clothes they wore so ostentatiously. Dejanus smiled to himself. He needed a new challenge. And once the Twenty Houses had been tamed, there was no need for him to maintain an alliance with Orkid.
Duke Holo Amptra felt like a hollow man. He had learned to tolerate Usharna when she was queen. At first they had ensured she married within the Twenty Houses, but his fool brother—her second husband—had thrown away any control the nobles had over Usharna by siding with her enemies during the Slaver War. Usharna had married the General—the slavers’ greatest enemy—and those who thought like Holo believed it was the beginning of the end. But then a glimmer of hope. Berayma, her first-born and successor, had come to them voluntarily, had sought alliance and friendship among his father’s family and clan, and the Twenty Houses believed that Usharna would prove to be the exception, the only black mark, in the long line of rulers controlled by the nobility.
And then tragedy again. Usharna died, and soon after Berayma was murdered by the worm in the court, the half-commoner Prince Lynan, offspring of slaves. Now the kingdom was ruled by Holo’s niece, a woman who hated the Twenty Houses even more than her mother had. And on this day she might once and for all have broken the power of the Kendran nobility by marrying outside of Kendra itself.
He was an old man, and knew the misery of this world would not torment him for much longer, but he had wanted so much to leave the kingdom strong and united for his son Galen. He snorted. Galen himself did not seem to appreciate how much the kingdom had changed since the old days. It was hard to blame him for that, though, since he was born under Usharna, and would likely spend the rest of his life under the reign of another woman, his cousin Areava.
Holo watched Galen talking among the nobles of his own generation. They were all young, warrior-trained, and haughty. They only had thoughts of the coming war with Haxus, anxiously awaiting spring when they might prove themselves on the battlefield. Don’t be too hard on them, he told himself. You were no different at their age.
Galen saw his father and joined him.
“You are so somber, father.”
“This is a somber day.”
“Not so somber, perhaps, as you feared. At least Areava has married another noble.”
“An Amanite.”
“A noble Amanite. A good man, too.”
“I have no doubt,” Holo said gruffly. “But I should not complain. This is your time now, not mine. In spring you will win your battle honors and return to Kendra in glory. I do not blame you for thinking of the future instead of the present.”
“We will return from battle with more than honor. We will have gained more power as well.”
“Eh?”
“I told you before that the time would come when Areava would learn to rely on us once more. The coming campaign gives us the perfect opportunity to find favor with our ruler. Who knows, we may even be able to win over her chancellor.”