Page 2 of Crown of Iron
My heart aches like it's clenched inside a fist. Although I'm happy with my betrothed, my marriage will never compare to the bond between Micah and Borin. The Statera made them for each other, gifting them with the most sacred of all bonds, a parah bond. They complement one another in every way and are a perfect match.
Borin straightens the lapel of the king's jacket and says, “You have nothing to fear; do not let what’s to come cast a shadow on this joyous day. Remember, I will be right behind you the entire time, my love.”
They kiss again before the king consort turns his dark gaze to me. “I'm proud of you, Raelle. You have come a long way since the first day when you skipped into my classroom with wild excitement. You have broken free of the clouds of adolescence and emerged as a bright star. I look forward to your leadership, Your Grace.”
I fling myself into his arms and inhale a scent I can only describe as sunlight. For seventeen years, Borin has been my mentor, educator, and friend. Everything I know about the journey ahead I learned from him. All the long afternoons under his watchful eye, memorizing royal history and understanding Lucent economics and policies, led me to this moment. He will be responsible for a great deal of the good that will come from my reign.
He places a palm to my back, and warm calming waves flow through me, adding to the easing effect of Micah's power.
“Thank you, Borin,” I whisper, hoping he hears the true meaning behind my appreciation. Thank you for remaining by my side on the days when my frustration got the better of me, for never giving up even when I gave up on myself. Thank you for being a shoulder I could cry on and a listening ear. Thank you for caring for me like I was your daughter.
With a wide grin, Borin pulls away and bows before nodding to the guards. They step forward in their formal uniforms of red tunics and iron breastplates and open the double doors. My heart flutters at my first glimpse of the pageantry waiting inside.
The setting sun peeks through the pink and white blossoms of the vines crawling along the glass ceiling, filling the sanctuary with a golden glow. Crimson banners hang from the rafters with a half sun and half moonetched in the center. The Lucent people are crammed shoulder to shoulder in the pews, waiting to witness the spectacle to come.
Borin takes long, sure strides down the aisle, and everyone stands, adjusting their best dresses or the tails of their formal jackets before reverently lowering their heads. Borin climbs the marble steps of the dais where the Divine Sibyl of the Statera stands. They wear a simple ivory robe with their hair covered in a veil of the same fabric. Borin bows to the Sibyl and takes his place before the smaller of three silver and white thrones.
A soft melody plays from a piano and a young man moves to the front of the aisle, squares his broad shoulders, and clasps his hands behind him. He's handsome in his navy-blue jacket, the lapel decorated with large silver buttons. The embroidered silver vines on his vest match the ones on my dress, and at his waist hangs a sword. It’s a family heirloom, gifted to him by my parents. Despite his regal attire, I know the boy waiting for me is anything but the image he portrays to our people.
Leif Stone may fool everyone with his coiffed sandy blond hair and clean-shaven face, but I know his free spirit. He holds a glint of mischief in his hazel eyes and fights to hide the smile pulling at the side of his full lips. He's the boy who I practiced my sword work with, and I’ve acted as a liaison with those he wanted to bed. We've gotten into our fair share of trouble together, and I'd trade those moments for nothing. He's my best friend, my confidant, my future husband.
“Are you ready, my precious girl?” Micah asks.
I draw a deep breath and exhale. “As ready as I'll ever be.”
Strings join with the piano, singing the Lucent anthem, and Micah guides me forward until we reach Leif. A soft hand intertwines with mine, and I meet the loving gaze of my mother. She sweetly smiles at me with the same pouty lips I inherited from her. Her lavender dress hangs from her slim frame, her blue eyes dingy, and her red hair streaked with gray. They’re all signs that she’s not been at her best since my father left.
“Who stands in this sacred place and promises this woman to this man?” the Sibyl asks, their voice harmonic and soothing.
Micah lifts his chin and says, “I, Micah René LeFur, King of Lucent, stand in place of Raelle's father, General Abrum Mansi and give her hand to Captain Leif Stone. May their marriage strengthen our kingdom.”
“And I, Cassa Mansi, give my daughter's hand to this man in hopes that their union brings balance to all people,” my mother says, her voice softyet sure.
“So, let it be,” the Sibyl responds, their youthful androgynous face showing no emotion.
My mother kisses my cheek and places my hand inside Leif's before returning to the front pew with my three younger siblings.
Leif and I keep our gaze on Micah as he moves to stand before his throne.
“And so, my days as a carefree bachelor come to an end,” Leif says through tight lips.
“Oh please, like I could ever stop your libido,” I whisper.
“True. Well, I guess this could be worse.”
“You could have been promised to one of the Wallaces.”
We look over our shoulders to the fourth row, where an identical duo with pale hair and eyes flash Leif toothy grins. The sister wiggles her fingers and the brother winks at my soon-to-be-fiancé.
Leif shutters and turns away. “May the Statera curse your future children for even entertaining the thought.”
“Those would be your children too.” I give his fingers two quick squeezes.
“Leif and Raelle,” the Sibyl says, pulling us from our banter. “Is it your desire to declare to all of Lucent your intentions to join your families, your bodies, and the gifts which the Statera sees fit to bestow upon you?”
We don't hesitate with our answers. For the better part of our lives, we've known our king and kingdom's expectations for us. While Borin trained me to rule, Leif was taught to protect. He learned military strategy and how to wield a sword as if he were born with one in his hand. My job will be to lead our people, and his will be to protect me and provide an heir to the crown. It’s hard to say which of us got the shittier job.
“It is our intention,” we say together.
