Page 4 of Bride of the King
The woman’s reaction and the way she stood up for me brought tears to my eyes. After Father died, I should have stood up to my step-mother, but I was used to being passive and obedient. But now? I resolved to be brave as Naomi helped me dry off. Wrapped in a towel, I sat on a stool and studied the tent while she brushed my hair dry.
Those who lived in tents were looked down upon, but it was surprisingly pleasant, either that, or I felt much better after the bath and the kindness of a stranger. Across from me was a mirror and a trunk. Aside from it and the wash tub, the tent was sparse and bare. My thoughts went to Zander, the king. I was sure I’d seen him before, even though I did not have a name.
Naomi finished my hair and opened the trunk, lifting out a beautiful white gown that took my breath away. I stood and allowed her to dress me, sighing as she wrapped my body in the softest silk. The material was cool against my warm skin and when Naomi led me to the mirror I gasped.
A fairy princess stared back at me. A braid crowned my head while my hair hung in waves down my back, almost cascading to my waist. There was a shine to my hair I’d never been able to capture during my rushed days. Naomi added a spray of purple flowers to crown the back. But the dress! I’d transformed into a graceful lady. The top of the gown left my shoulders bare and dipped at the bosom, offering a fleeting glimpse of soft flesh. It formed to my waist and then flared at the hips. The white hue of the dress faded into silver toward the bottom. Naomi stood behind me, pulling the laces tight.
“There,” she said, face beaming. “We weren’t sure of the size, so I added extra laces, just in case.”
I turned, marveling at the bottom of the dress. It swept the ground and when I moved the skirts swished around me. Naomi handed me a bouquet of wild irises. “Now, you’re ready,” she proclaimed, smiling at me. Did I detect tears in her eyes?
I lifted my chin as I eyed myself in the mirror. What witchery was this? For the first time since my step-mother had disappeared, a spark of hope rose in me. Perhaps this wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. For once I felt young and beautiful, proud to be myself. I determined to be honest with Zander, desperate to believe he could be a reasonable man.
“It is time,” Naomi said. Taking my hand, she led me to the entrance of the tent.
When she opened the flap, it was much later than I expected. The soft glow of sunset cast a pink glow over the glade, and I saw white silk laid out on the ground, a path for my slippered feet to follow. A gentle music hung in the air, so sweet it made my throat ache. I squeezed Naomi’s hand and turned to her. “Thank you,” I whispered.
A smile lit her face, making her look young again. “My pleasure, my lady,” she said. “Now go, follow the path.”
I did, feeling like a faerie spirit. Flower petals moved beneath my feet, red and white and pink, while I noticed tree stumps on either side, with flickering candles and crowns woven out of flowers. As I walked, head high and shoulders back, the music became louder. My feet moved toward it, and I wanted to go, wanted to see what I would find at the end. For this seemed no haven of the outlaws, but a magical place. And I wondered if the river goddess had honored my request and granted my wishes.
Pine trees waved their evergreen branches above my head, as though they swayed in tune with the enchanting music. I imagined I saw spirits dancing, their white shapes almost invisible as they floated around me. Were my mother and father there in spirit? Watching me? A gentle comfort touched my heart at the memory of them, and although my fear did not quite disappear, a beat of anticipation pulsed in my heart.
Zander. I was sure I’d met him before. Early in the spring, after a trying day with my step-mother and step-sisters, I’d fled to the forest. The one place no one would follow me, for fear of the wildwood. The shades of evergreen comforted me. I walked, collecting herbs, and there he was, stepping out of the shadows, a cascade of light around him. He told me not to cry, for all sorrows were only for a moment, and the sun should shine again. Then he tucked a flower behind my pointed ear and asked if I were a wood elf come to bewitch him. He made me laugh; I recalled that much, but what a coincidence if it were him.
The white path led up to a clearing, where the Rovers stood in a half circle, watching me. Men, women, and children, dressed in bright colors, all smiling and swaying to the music. I stumbled with embarrassment, so many eyes were watching me I wanted to run and hide. I could have, but I didn’t. Instead, I thought about every step forward, to the end where Zander, their golden king, stood, dressed in royal blue, waiting for me.
As I neared, I dared to glance at his face and saw the light in his gray eyes. He winked and his lips curled back in an encouraging smile. Despite my awkward situation, my lips parted and heat crept around my neck. I dropped my gaze to the purple flowers, heart racing as I took one step after the other, wondering why I did not flee into the darkening wood.
The music died away into a silver breeze when I reached his side. I dared not look as he took my hand and brushed his lips against my knuckles. “Lady Nesrin,” he murmured.
My breath caught. I blinked at the flowers while my pulse throbbed. My hand felt clammy in his, but if he noticed, he said nothing, only held it firmly as we faced the priest. I dared peek at Zander, surprised he had a broad grin on his face. My entire body went hot, and I dropped my eyes back to the flowers. It was him! The man from the forest who’d placed a flower in my hair. Could this be real? Were the fates playing some kind of joke on me?
The ceremony passed in a blur. The sunset hovered as we spoke our vows, then faded into the night sky. A sliver of moonlight hovered as we turned, our hands wrapped in a ribbon to symbolize our union. Claps and cheers erupted, but I barely heard as I watched golden lights wink in and out of view. The scent of roses caught in the wind.
“Let us celebrate, Lady Nesrin, my queen,” Zander said, and led me to the banquet table.
Wordlessly, I followed him, conscious of how the Rovers stared and cheered. A whisper of fate went through me. He’d called me his queen. Did my step-mother know, by selling me to the Rovers, she sold me into life as royalty?
I glanced at Zander as he led me to the table. “You did well,” he murmured.
“Why me?” I whispered as he pulled out a chair for me. I settled into it while he moved to the head of the table.
He squeezed my hand and shook his head. “I’ll tell you later.”
The celebration began and there was no time for conversation. Food and wine poured aplenty, but it washed over me with a blur. My heart pounded in my ears and although I ate heartily, grateful for a full meal, I couldn’t help but worry about my wedding night.
4
After an eveningof feasting and dancing, Zander took my hand in his and led me away from the merriment. Starlight lit the way out of the glade, and lightning bugs offered glimmers of light to guide us. The Rovers continued to celebrate, but as we walked through the wood, the music dimmed and the sound of festivity faded.
Regret made me glance back, surprised to discover I’d enjoyed myself. The wonder and newness of the celebration distracted me from what was to come. I’d eaten with relish—it was the first meal I’d had all day—and it was a relief to be well-fed without the worry of being shouted at, or slapped.
The trees were silent watchers, standing like stoic gatekeepers with only the faint breeze to rustle their leaves. It was much cooler beneath the boughs and I detected the rich scent of loam. Here would be an idea place to search for rare herbs if the opportunity arose, especially since this was my home now. I took a deep breath and glanced at Zander. All I could see was the back of his golden head as he strode ahead, almost dragging me behind him. My feet were exhausted from dancing and a zing of worry went down my spine. What would he do with me tonight? What did Iwanthim to do with me?
“Zander?” I whispered his name into the hush, daring to disturb the sleeping nymphs among the trees.
He slowed, tilting his head as he came to a stop. A sliver of moonlight slid through the trees, allowing me a glimpse of his set jaw, and raised eyebrows. His eyes were hidden, unreadable in the velvet darkness. When he spoke, concern edged his tone. “My lady, you look weary.”
