Page 98 of The Cornish Princess
And regardless, the druid would remain this way throughout the twilight, and on the morrow, he would attend her father to tell him what visions he saw—including those he would call upon for the sake of the glen. Gwendolyn only hoped the blight would be curable, though tonight, she daren’t dwell on such things—not when she must keep a smile on her face.
King Brutus was the first to rush forward to congratulate the newly wedded couple. He kissed Gwendolyn on the left cheek and said, “What joy you will bring to our house!”
Prince Locrinus’ mother was quick to do the same. She gave Gwendolyn one soft cheek to nuzzle, then the other, and then embraced her fully. “Daughter,” she said. “I will treat you as though you were my own.” Her voice was kindly, and Gwendolyn’s breath hitched over a lump of sudden joy.
Locrinus’ brothers followed—Kamber and Albanactus, each more winsome than the other. “Alas,” teased Albanactus. “If only I were the one born first!” He lifted Gwendolyn’s hand and kissed it swiftly. Then Kamber did the same. “Princess,” said Kamber, and then added, “We shall forever remain your humble servants.”
Gwendolyn’s father was slower to reach her, but whatever strength he’d lacked these past few days, he now mustered for this embrace, squeezing Gwendolyn so tightly as he whispered in her ear. “You are beauteous, Daughter. I am proud.” And then he turned to Prince Locrinus and crooked a finger at him, and said, “Get me a grandson, young man!”
Embarrassed, Gwendolyn smiled, once again mentally preparing herself for the night to come. Queen Eseld came to embrace her next and for the first time in all Gwendolyn’s life, the embrace was genuine and long—so very long, and so terribly bittersweet. It brought a new sting to Gwendolyn’s eyes. “Mother,” she rasped, as Queen Eseld held her close.
“My dearest, sweet child,” said Queen Eseld. “I am so pleased for you. Today you have brought great joy and healing to our people and our lands. I only wish with all my heart that your grandmother and grandfather were here to witness this day!”
Gwendolyn nodded, her voice too thick to speak as her mother extricated herself from the embrace, and then patted Gwendolyn gently on the cheek.
And that was that.
Prince Locrinus stood by her side, solicitous and kind, making Gwendolyn rue the moment she’d dared give her heart to a heartless creature—who, by the by, couldn’t even remain in attendance long enough to see she was wed, less to celebrate her moment.
One last time, she allowed herself a sudden and overwhelming surge of fury over Málik’s abrupt departure, but she vowed this anger must be a cleansing. After today—this moment—she would think of him no more, and she would be a wife and princess.
Prince Locrinus took her by the arm, drawing Gwendolyn away from the bantering crowd. Drawing her aside, he lifted his hand to a wayward curl and brushed it away from Gwendolyn’s face, his eyes shining with…
Love? Joy? Desire?
“Beautiful,” he declared. “I cannot wait to have you to myself. But first!”
He turned to wave a hand into the air, and the throng parted to reveal Gwendolyn’s bridal gift… a grey-white mare with a golden mane and tail, to replace the one she’d lost.
Its lithe body was armored with golden scales, including acroupiere,crinetandpeytrol, with ashaffronthat bore a golden horn. “From Gaul,” he said. “Imported for you. This breed is highly prized, loyal to a single master.”
He smiled companionably. “As I will be loyal only to you. Until the day we are called to serve, my lady, we will travel together, east to west, north to south, if only so our people may gaze upon their beauteous queen. This is my gift to you—not merely the horse.”
He bowed then, humbling himself before her, and Gwendolyn’s heart did a small, tentative leap of joy. Not only because of his kind words, or his sweet gift, or his promises, but more than anything, Gwendolyn wanted to travel, and clearly he’d heard her and understood this, and he cared enough to give her such a wondrous gift.
Without warning, he swept Gwendolyn into his arms and carried her to the golden saddle, then settled her atop. Thereafter he grinned broadly, like a wee boy, and waved for his own horse to be brought forth. “Shall we begin our journey together, Princess?”
“Oh, yes!” Gwendolyn exclaimed, excitement bubbling up within her as a murmur grew throughout the crowd. All at once, she felt heartily ashamed for all the terrible things she’d thought of him.Love where you must,she heard Demelza say.
Love where you must.
Love where you must.
And now she understood why he’d wished to take her away so soon after the ceremony, and the knowledge swelled in her breast until her heart must surely be twice its normal size. This was his Bride’s Gift to her, she realized, and it was splendid. Whatever reservations she’d given asylum to, she set free, ready to fly with her prince by her side. Hope sprang from some unforeseen well. Gwendolyn peered down at him, commanding her heart to change, and her mother’s words whispered into her ear…
If you look for joy, you’ll surely find it. If you look for grief, you will find that, as well. But, if you accept your fate with grace and faith, you may yet discover your greatest joy.
Gwendolyn reveled over the feel of the horse's flesh between her thighs, and she sat tall and proud in her new saddle as the Prince found his own horse and mounted beside her. Indeed, he was fine—every muscle in his body straining against his golden garb—his legs encased in glittering hosen, his arms and chest with painted gold leather, emblazoned with a version of his own dragon, also in gold. But nay, she looked closer, and saw it wasboththeir standards combined. His dragon. Her colors. Their house.
A new standard for a new age.
Another huzzah swept through the crowd, and this time, though Gwendolyn noted her husband bent to take her reins, he constrained himself, and smiled instead, straightening in his saddle to give her a flourish of his hand. “Where you go,” he said, “I follow.”
And with those words, a tiny seedling of love unfurled within Gwendolyn’s breast—tiny, tiny but strong. One last time, she peered back to seek her mother’s gaze and found Queen Eseld smiling happily. Her father and mother were bantering easily with their new relations, and she knew in that instant… she had chosen well.
Eager now to meet the entourage they would travel with, and keen for a new adventure, Gwendolyn gave her mount a nudge with her knee, but then, something caught her eye… a lone figure in the distance, on the bluff over the sea—a dark silhouette against a lowering sun, and the sight gave her heart a little twist.
She knew who it was but turned away.
