Page 28 of Legacy of the Heirs
“Zarya, there is no one else dancing right now. We are about to eat,” Larelle said, and Alvan crouched to Zarya’s level, balancing on the balls of his feet.
“We need to wait until the guests of honour arrive first,” Alvan explained, taking her hand and twirling her daughter.
“The ones who are getting married?” asked Zarya. Alvan nodded enthusiastically and continued to spin her. “Mumma and Pappa are married,” she said. Alvan’s hand faltered, and Larelle knelt beside him to intervene, grasping Zarya’s waist to halt her spinning.
“Zarya, sweetie. Mumma and Pappa were never married,” she explained. Zarya fiddled with the petals on the back of a chair.
“Yes, you are.” Larelle blushed at Zarya’s boldness. “I saw it in my dream; you and a man were standing together where they put the crowns on our heads, and this lady tied something around your hands, and then you kissed.” She picked the leaves off the chair, and Larelle hung her head, laughing.
“Like in the story I read you last night?” she asked, stroking her daughter’s hair. Zarya stopped pulling at the leaves and frowned. “Perhaps it was someone else in your dream.”
“Like Mr Alvan?” She looked at the pair with curiosity.
“Maybe you saw me and Mumma dancing because you knew we would dance tonight!” Alvan said, reaching for Zarya’s hands. “But I think I want to dance withyoufirst!” He pulled up a giggling Zarya by the hands and swung her. Larelle grinned. In the last few weeks, Zarya had become particularly fond of capturing Alvan’s attention. Still, perhaps Alvan was spending too much time with them if Zarya was becoming so attached that she dreamed about him.
“King Caellum and Princess Sadira will arrive shortly. Please take your seats,” boomed the voice from the top of the stairs. Larelle smiled as Alvan offered his hand to Larelle and balanced Zarya on his hip, who was flushed from spinning. Larelle accepted and allowed him to guide her to their places, side by side.
Chapter Sixteen
Caellum
Stupid. This is a stupid idea.Caellum paced outside the doors of Sadira’s chambers, rotating the velvet ring box in his jacket pocket. She never asked for a ring.She never wanted to get married.Caellum sighed, faced the door again, and raised his fist to knock. Sadira swung the door open.
“I thought I would relieve you of further contemplation after you passed for the fifteenth time,” Sadira sang. He looked foolish as he stood at the door with his mouth half open. The subtle light of the lanterns glowed behind her, framing her golden hair that fell down her back in curls. Her cheeks flushed in a naturally endearing manner and matched the pink hue of her lips. Her dress reminded Caellum of the day they first met; the palest of green chiffon cut into off-the-shoulder sleeves, effortlessly highlighting her lightly sun-kissed skin and the shimmer of her collarbones. He could not stop his eyes from trailing further, mesmerised by the spattering of tiny white flowers gathering in fields at the bottom of her skirts. He realised they were irises, the flowers now blooming in the walled garden. Had she made the dress herself? It would not surprise him; she was creative and skilled enough. Smiling, Caellum shook his head.
“Is it okay? Is it too much? After the other day, you were so nice to me, and I could not stop thinking about the flowers. I wanted a symbol of something that was just, well,ours.” she rambled. He grasped Sadira’s hands and guided her back into her rooms.
“It is perfect,” he said softly.
Sadira cocked her head. “Then, why did you shake your head?”She rubbed her arm as he released her hands.
“Because”—Caellum reached into his pocket and pulled out the green velvet box. Flicking the gold clasp, he opened it to face her—“I had the same thought.” Sadira covered her gasp with her hands; her eyes watered, and nose twitched. “It is beautiful,” she breathed.
“May I?” he asked, pulling the ring from the box. Sadira nodded. Her hands felt dainty in his as he slid the gold ring onto her finger. The opal stone matched the white flowers on her gown, and the three claws encasing the gem were shaped like irises as a reminder of their day in the garden. The place no longer reminded him of heartbreak but was a symbol of new beginnings, just as Sadira had explained.
“Why are you crying?” he whispered, brushing a tear from her face as she examined the ring.
“Because I do not deserve this,” she said. Caellum frowned and stepped closer. He cupped Sadira’s face, urging her to look at him. She clasped his wrists.
“Do not say that.”
“But it is true. I wanted to believe I was sent here to ease the tensions in Garridon and that perhaps, at a stretch, you may wish to step down from your role if the people favoured Soren.” Caellum waited patiently for her to finish while knowing there was no bone in Sadira’s body capable of betrayal. “But I fear Soren will stop at nothing, Caellum.” Sadira looked straight into his soul. “I fear she will try to kill you, and I cannot—” Sadira’s face crumpled, and more tears fell. “I cannot lose someone else.” Caellum pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her.
“You will not lose me, Sadira.” He breathed in the scent of her hair: morning dew, roses, and sugar. “We are in this together.” When he pulled back, Sadira’s green eyes glowed faintly in the dimmed light as flowers crept into his vision on the wall above the fireplace. “Until death do us part.”
“It is the death that I fear.”
“Then we must make it impossible for her to hurt us. We need to be perceived as the strongest rulers for Garridon, so she knows any move against the crown would lose the will of the people.”
“I fear she does not care for the people.”
“She will have to. The people will turn to their ruler should the creatures return.” Caellum trailed his hand down Sadira’s arm until intertwining his fingers in hers. “She is but one of the weeds surrounding us that I promised we would blossom amongst.” Sadira smiled at the reminder of his words when they first visited the city together.
“If we are to help the people and defend ourselves not only against Soren, but external threats, there is something I would like to do.” Sadira said.
“Anything. I will give you anything.” The smell of the blooming flowers trickled closer as they began to carpet the floor.
“I wish to learn more about my heritage. The Wiccan,” she said, and he nodded. “Perhaps there is something extra I can use against her, or maybe something exists in our history that might offer a different way to defeat the creatures. We must prepare for any threat.”
