only response she was honor bound to give.
“Aye.”
“Let it be known throughout the kingdoms of Winterland and D’Naath, that King Garick has wed the Princess, Noele. By all the powers that are holy and revered, I bestow a marriage upon thee both. May blessings of magic, prosperity and children grace the rest of thy days.” Garick lifted her hand and slid a heavy silver band on her index finger, then brought it to his lips, sealing the settling of the ring with a kiss that flamed her skin.
The ring weighed heavily on her hand, a reminder that she was now bound to Garick. Her very future lay in his hands.
Before she could ponder any further, he pulled her against him, his eyes searching her face, then gently brushed his lips against hers. She held her breath, struck by the tenderness in his kiss.
Without thinking, she reached up and caressed his cheek with her trembling hand. Tears came, unbidden, and pooled in her eyes.
Garick frowned, taking her wrist in his hand and pulling it down to her side. Then he gathered her hard against his chest and seared her mouth in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. Hard and punishing, his tongue plunged inside and wrestled with hers. ‘Twas not a kiss of emotion or tenderness…but annoyance, irritation, anger.
Noele reached up and placed her palms on Garick’s chest, pushing gently to break the kiss. He pulled away and gazed down at her, his dark eyes pinning her.
What had changed? When he first kissed her it had been gentle, dare she say emotional. She’d felt his tenderness. Then when she touched him, his face had changed to one of irritation.
But why? Was he unhappy? Had she done something wrong? His expression gave her no clarity.
What could she possibly have done to anger him?
The question plagued her throughout the day’s festivities. After the joining ceremony, they’d moved into the courtyard. Food, drink and merriment of all sorts ensued.
She and Garick walked arm and arm through the crowds, accepting well wishes and talking to the people. Noele enjoyed meeting so many of the Winterland people, and bade her sisters to accompany her so that they, too, could be introduced.
Solara spent most of her time near Roarke. Noele noticed on many occasions the two of them exchanging glances.
Worry for her sister occupied her mind. Noele felt the attraction between Solara and Roarke, and knew no good could come from it. She decided she would have to speak with her later, before the consummation.
Their celebration meal was held at a large table decorated with wildflowers and garland. Ale and bread were given in the age-old toast to prosperity and joy. Noele wondered if she’d ever feel joy again, wishing upon every star in the night sky that this marriage had been a more happy and love-filled event.
While they ate, minstrels played bawdy songs and serenaded the crowds. Dancing broke out in various forms, from the quick-stepping rodanda to the seductive talar. When it came time for Garick to dance with his bride, the music slowed and a sultry j’nada filled her ears.
Faerie waltz. Her favorite dance. Memories of her father sailing around the forest floor with her in his arms flew through her mind, making her ache for the simple days of her childhood.
But now, it wouldn’t be her father’s arms around her. Now it was her husband’s. Her husband, and yet a stranger. A stranger who made her feel things she’d never felt before, a stranger who’d claim her virginity tonight and then decide whether or not to keep her.
Garick stood and held out his hand for her. Warily, she slipped her fingers into his palm and he led her to the dancing circle. Which man would dance with her now? The one who had kissed her tenderly after their union had been officiated, or the one who’d ravaged her mouth in a kiss meant to punish for some unknown transgression?
She was certain Garick could feel her tension when he wound his arms around her and pulled her against him. She
“Aye.”
“Let it be known throughout the kingdoms of Winterland and D’Naath, that King Garick has wed the Princess, Noele. By all the powers that are holy and revered, I bestow a marriage upon thee both. May blessings of magic, prosperity and children grace the rest of thy days.” Garick lifted her hand and slid a heavy silver band on her index finger, then brought it to his lips, sealing the settling of the ring with a kiss that flamed her skin.
The ring weighed heavily on her hand, a reminder that she was now bound to Garick. Her very future lay in his hands.
Before she could ponder any further, he pulled her against him, his eyes searching her face, then gently brushed his lips against hers. She held her breath, struck by the tenderness in his kiss.
Without thinking, she reached up and caressed his cheek with her trembling hand. Tears came, unbidden, and pooled in her eyes.
Garick frowned, taking her wrist in his hand and pulling it down to her side. Then he gathered her hard against his chest and seared her mouth in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. Hard and punishing, his tongue plunged inside and wrestled with hers. ‘Twas not a kiss of emotion or tenderness…but annoyance, irritation, anger.
Noele reached up and placed her palms on Garick’s chest, pushing gently to break the kiss. He pulled away and gazed down at her, his dark eyes pinning her.
What had changed? When he first kissed her it had been gentle, dare she say emotional. She’d felt his tenderness. Then when she touched him, his face had changed to one of irritation.
But why? Was he unhappy? Had she done something wrong? His expression gave her no clarity.
What could she possibly have done to anger him?
The question plagued her throughout the day’s festivities. After the joining ceremony, they’d moved into the courtyard. Food, drink and merriment of all sorts ensued.
She and Garick walked arm and arm through the crowds, accepting well wishes and talking to the people. Noele enjoyed meeting so many of the Winterland people, and bade her sisters to accompany her so that they, too, could be introduced.
Solara spent most of her time near Roarke. Noele noticed on many occasions the two of them exchanging glances.
Worry for her sister occupied her mind. Noele felt the attraction between Solara and Roarke, and knew no good could come from it. She decided she would have to speak with her later, before the consummation.
Their celebration meal was held at a large table decorated with wildflowers and garland. Ale and bread were given in the age-old toast to prosperity and joy. Noele wondered if she’d ever feel joy again, wishing upon every star in the night sky that this marriage had been a more happy and love-filled event.
While they ate, minstrels played bawdy songs and serenaded the crowds. Dancing broke out in various forms, from the quick-stepping rodanda to the seductive talar. When it came time for Garick to dance with his bride, the music slowed and a sultry j’nada filled her ears.
Faerie waltz. Her favorite dance. Memories of her father sailing around the forest floor with her in his arms flew through her mind, making her ache for the simple days of her childhood.
But now, it wouldn’t be her father’s arms around her. Now it was her husband’s. Her husband, and yet a stranger. A stranger who made her feel things she’d never felt before, a stranger who’d claim her virginity tonight and then decide whether or not to keep her.
Garick stood and held out his hand for her. Warily, she slipped her fingers into his palm and he led her to the dancing circle. Which man would dance with her now? The one who had kissed her tenderly after their union had been officiated, or the one who’d ravaged her mouth in a kiss meant to punish for some unknown transgression?
She was certain Garick could feel her tension when he wound his arms around her and pulled her against him. She
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