Page 17 of Seas and Scepters

But as I lay down to sleep, it was Eirik's face I saw in the darkness, Eirik's voice I heard whispering my name, Eirik's soft touch I felt even in dreams.

And for the first time in my life, obedience felt like the most unnatural thing in the world.

Chapter Six

Eirik

"Stand still, Your Highness, or I'll never get these measurements right."

The royal tailor's exasperation cut through my brooding thoughts as I shifted for what must have been the hundredth time.The man circled me like a predatory bird, pins clenched between his teeth, measuring tape draped around his neck like a strange medallion of office.

"My apologies," I muttered, forcing myself to remain motionless while he adjusted the ceremonial doublet that would bind me to a woman who could barely look at me.

Tomorrow.Tomorrow, I would stand before the kingdom and pledge my life to Princess Astrid of Astoria.Tomorrow until the crown claimed whatever remained of my heart.

The sun streamed through the tall windows of the fitting chamber, painting the polished floors with strips of gold.Outside, the palace buzzed with frantic activity—servants scurrying with armloads of flowers and linens, cooks preparing elaborate confections, musicians rehearsing the traditional wedding march.The entire kingdom seemed caught in the grip of celebratory fever while I stood here, a prisoner awaiting execution.

"The royal blue brings out Your Highness's eyes," the tailor observed, stepping back to admire his handiwork."Princess Astrid will be most impressed."

I bit back a bitter laugh.Astrid would hardly notice the color of my doublet when she was so determined to avoid looking at my face.

"I'm sure," I replied, the words tasting like ash.

The door to the chamber swung open, and Sir Hadrian appeared, his expression carefully neutral."Your Highness, Princess Astrid requests your presence in the garden.A final discussion about the ceremony arrangements."

I nodded, grateful for any excuse to escape the endless pins and adjustments."Thank you, Sir Hadrian.I'll join her shortly."

The tailor made a noise of protest but knew better than to contradict a royal command.He helped me remove the half-finished ceremonial attire, his fingers moving deftly.Once free of the stiff brocade, I slipped into a simpler jacket, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere of wedding preparations.

The royal gardens were ablaze with early summer blooms, their sweet perfume hanging heavy in the afternoon air.Princess Astrid sat on a marble bench beneath a flowering cherry tree, her golden hair glinting in the dappled sunlight.From a distance, she made a perfect picture of nobility and grace—a woman any man would be proud to call his bride.

Until she looked up and saw me approaching.

The transformation was subtle but unmistakable.Her spine stiffened, her lips tightened, and her eyes—those beautiful blue eyes that royal poets had compared to summer skies—grew cold with barely disguised revulsion.

"Your Highness," she greeted, her voice as perfectly modulated as always."Thank you for joining me."

I took a seat beside her, noting how she shifted slightly to increase the distance between us."Sir Hadrian mentioned you wished to discuss the ceremony."

"Yes."She busied herself with the papers spread across her lap, avoiding direct eye contact."There's been some confusion about the processional order, and I thought it best if we resolved it together rather than through intermediaries."

As she spoke, her gaze remained fixed on the documents, occasionally darting to my right shoulder or the space just above my head—anywhere but the scarred side of my face.It was a dance I knew well, this careful choreography of avoidance disguised as courtesy.

"The bishop suggests that my father escort me to the altar, where you would be waiting with King Aldric," she continued."But the traditional Astorian custom would have us both process from opposite sides and meet in the center.Which would you prefer?"

As if my preferences mattered at all in this elaborate performance.As if anything about this union had ever been about what either of us wanted.

"Whichever pleases you," I said, unable to summon even the pretense of enthusiasm.

Her eyes flickered to mine for a brief moment, and I caught a flash of something that might have been pity—or perhaps resignation."The traditional approach, then.It seems more...balanced."

"As you wish."

An uncomfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the distant sounds of birdsong and servants calling to one another.I searched for something—anything—to say that might bridge the vast chasm separating us.

"The gardens look beautiful," I offered lamely."My mother would have been pleased to see them so well maintained."

"Queen Isadora had excellent taste," Astrid replied, her tone softening slightly at the mention of my mother."These cherry trees were her addition, I believe?The gardeners tell me she imported them from the eastern provinces herself."

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