longing for her former freedom, Noele trailed behind her sisters as they left the hall and headed outside.
The gods smiled on her today, gifting her with a warm, sunny morning. A large crowd assembled before them. Fluttering her wings nervously, she smiled tentatively, hoping they would welcome her into their community.
She breathed a sigh of relief when wide grins and applause greeted her entrance.
The meadow was huge and overlooked the northern sea. The view was breathtaking, and lifted her spirits for the first time today.
The crowds parted to reveal a long, white carpet leading to an elaborately carved arch. Rose s, jonquils, tuliberries and dolaflowers weaved their colors through the lattice over the arch. Silver and lavender streamers blew lazily in the slight wind. The sun glinted off the waters, lending the whitecaps a silvery shimmer.
It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Had this been a love match, she would be giddy with happiness at the breathtaking surroundings. This was a perfect place, a perfect day, to marry one she loved.
And one who loved her.
But this marriage was not a love match. She feared Garick did not have the slightest idea what love was.
She slowed her wings to keep from flying away. Her fear, at least momentarily, had dissipated. How could she not love the freedom of the outdoors? The beauty of Castle Winterland’s meadow was nearly as lovely as the forest glen of D’Naath.
More importantly, how could she not be awestruck at her soon-to-be husband waiting underneath the arches? Dressed in black breeches and a longcoat of a matching color, his dark hair blew away from his face in the slight wind, revealing his handsome features.
His eyes darkened at her approach. Despite Noele’s determination to feel nothing today, trepidation filled her mind at his straight-faced visage. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat and wished for a cooling drink of D’Naathian spring water.
The high priest, tall and reed-thin in flowing black robes, motioned her forward. He inclined his head, smiled at her, then directed Garick to take her hands in his.
Garick turned to her. Noele fought for control as his gaze burned hotly into hers. What thoughts lay behind his scowling face, she did not know. Fearing the worst, she refused to speculate what her fate might be.
The high priest started, the ceremony steeped in elvin ritual. “Yea, let it be known in all the forests and castles of the northern kingdoms, that today, the first day of the Winter Solstice, Garick, King of Winterland, marries Noele, Princess of D’Naath.”
A huge round of applause went up, the cacophony of cheers roaring through Noele’s ears. The priest raised his hand and when all was once again silent, he continued.
“Garick, thou must pledge to honor thy wife, protect her against all enemies, and bring forth children to seal thy union and further the continuation of the two kingdoms. Thou will retain right of castoff if the faerie princess fails to please thee at the consummation this eve. If thou so choose, Noele of D’Naath will be given to thy Protector, Roarke. Their children will be thy children and fall under thy protecting hand for the remainder of their lives. If thou so agree to this, reply with ‘aye’.”
“Aye.”
Noele let her eyes close for the briefest of seconds at the thought she could so thoughtlessly be given away. She felt no better than one of the horses the elvin warriors rode.
Before the high priest’s words could sink in, he turned to her.
“Princess Noele of D’Naath, thou must pledge eternal loyalty to King Garick of Winterland. Thou agree to abide by the wishes of thy husband, and willingly accept the elvin customs described here today. If thou so agrees to this, reply with ‘aye’.”
It occurred to her for the briefest of moments to refuse to put her future in the hands of one man, without her thoughts, her desires, even considered. Yet duty pulled at her and she gave the
The gods smiled on her today, gifting her with a warm, sunny morning. A large crowd assembled before them. Fluttering her wings nervously, she smiled tentatively, hoping they would welcome her into their community.
She breathed a sigh of relief when wide grins and applause greeted her entrance.
The meadow was huge and overlooked the northern sea. The view was breathtaking, and lifted her spirits for the first time today.
The crowds parted to reveal a long, white carpet leading to an elaborately carved arch. Rose s, jonquils, tuliberries and dolaflowers weaved their colors through the lattice over the arch. Silver and lavender streamers blew lazily in the slight wind. The sun glinted off the waters, lending the whitecaps a silvery shimmer.
It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Had this been a love match, she would be giddy with happiness at the breathtaking surroundings. This was a perfect place, a perfect day, to marry one she loved.
And one who loved her.
But this marriage was not a love match. She feared Garick did not have the slightest idea what love was.
She slowed her wings to keep from flying away. Her fear, at least momentarily, had dissipated. How could she not love the freedom of the outdoors? The beauty of Castle Winterland’s meadow was nearly as lovely as the forest glen of D’Naath.
More importantly, how could she not be awestruck at her soon-to-be husband waiting underneath the arches? Dressed in black breeches and a longcoat of a matching color, his dark hair blew away from his face in the slight wind, revealing his handsome features.
His eyes darkened at her approach. Despite Noele’s determination to feel nothing today, trepidation filled her mind at his straight-faced visage. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat and wished for a cooling drink of D’Naathian spring water.
The high priest, tall and reed-thin in flowing black robes, motioned her forward. He inclined his head, smiled at her, then directed Garick to take her hands in his.
Garick turned to her. Noele fought for control as his gaze burned hotly into hers. What thoughts lay behind his scowling face, she did not know. Fearing the worst, she refused to speculate what her fate might be.
The high priest started, the ceremony steeped in elvin ritual. “Yea, let it be known in all the forests and castles of the northern kingdoms, that today, the first day of the Winter Solstice, Garick, King of Winterland, marries Noele, Princess of D’Naath.”
A huge round of applause went up, the cacophony of cheers roaring through Noele’s ears. The priest raised his hand and when all was once again silent, he continued.
“Garick, thou must pledge to honor thy wife, protect her against all enemies, and bring forth children to seal thy union and further the continuation of the two kingdoms. Thou will retain right of castoff if the faerie princess fails to please thee at the consummation this eve. If thou so choose, Noele of D’Naath will be given to thy Protector, Roarke. Their children will be thy children and fall under thy protecting hand for the remainder of their lives. If thou so agree to this, reply with ‘aye’.”
“Aye.”
Noele let her eyes close for the briefest of seconds at the thought she could so thoughtlessly be given away. She felt no better than one of the horses the elvin warriors rode.
Before the high priest’s words could sink in, he turned to her.
“Princess Noele of D’Naath, thou must pledge eternal loyalty to King Garick of Winterland. Thou agree to abide by the wishes of thy husband, and willingly accept the elvin customs described here today. If thou so agrees to this, reply with ‘aye’.”
It occurred to her for the briefest of moments to refuse to put her future in the hands of one man, without her thoughts, her desires, even considered. Yet duty pulled at her and she gave the
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