Page 11 of Tristan
I slide my tongue inside his mouth and tangle it with his sinewy Elven one. He tastes like man; I like it. My cock perks up from inside its cage, jolting me back to where I should be: at the ceremony. I pull away and push at his chest in one move and finally look into his eyes after avoiding them this entire time. I’m taken off guard—he’s smiling. I was beginning to think he was incapable. It’s a small smile, but enough to reach the creases of his eyes. Wonderment is sparkling in the cold violet depths, and somehow, he remains frosty in his mirth. “You are my responsibility now,” he vows.
My mouth quirks at the corners into a sour expression—I can take care of myself. I’m no one’s responsibility.If he’s noticed I’m displeased, he doesn’t say and lifts my hand up with his to the sky as we turn to face the cheering crowd.
“I am pleased to present to you, Prince Corrik and Prince Kathir Cyredanthem of Mortouge,” Fera says above the noise.
I look around, Mother stares at me with proud eyes, Papa is crying into Father’s shoulder, the Markaytian king sits beside Lucca with a beaming smile directed at me. Lucca. He’s laughing—at me.He knows my state of mind even if the prince does not. My anger makes me brazen, and I look to my right to check on what the Elven prince has got up to in the time I’ve spent staring out at the crowd. He’s looking at the crowd as well, waving with his other hand as he holds steadfast to mine in the air. He must feel my eyes on him—he spins his head to look at me. He doesn’t smile with his lips, but theskin around his eyes is relaxed just enough to suggest hemightbe happy.
This Elf is harder to decipher than Father.
“You are a good kisser,” he says and winks.
I blush like mad and look anywhere but at him.Why would he say something like that?I change my mind about him—he’s as insufferable as Lucca. When will it be learned that I’m not comfortable with things like kissing and sex?
His thumb and forefinger grip my chin tilting it up toward his face, so I have no choice but to look at him. His lips move in slow this time and chastely press onto mine. They’re soft and warm; I like how they taste. When we part, I think I should say something but I’m too embarrassed and—damn it—I’m aroused. Thankfully neither of us has to say anything. It’s time for us to walk back down the aisle for the first time as a married couple.
I try to find Lucca—who’s …gone? Why would he sneak away now?
I don’t know, but there’s one thing I’m certain of. Wherever he’s gone, it means trouble.
Trouble for me.
CHAPTER 4
I'm handcuffed to a large war Elf—an Elvish wedding tradition. The married couple must spend their reception attached to one another literally.I feel ridiculous.We are seated at the head of an elaborate table in the Dining Hall. Being linked together has done little to spur conversation and even if I wanted to, I wouldn't get a word in with the prince. People have been accosting us all evening under the pretense of congratulating us, but I think they just want a look at the massive wonder.I’m willing to give him away if they want him.It’s difficult having to move as a unit with someone I don’t know. Lucca and I could manage this with ease. We often moved as one thought, knowing each other well enough to forecast what the other would do next.
But the prince and I are hopeless.
We’ve had a few awkward instances where I’ve tripped forward, forgetting I’m attached to a moving land mass, and again when he’d forget, yanking me in whatever direction he meant to go. I’m not used to tripping. I’m fucking agile. It’s embarrassing as much as it’s frustrating, so I’ve succumbed to watching his lead, and allowing my arm and body to go along with whatever he deigns to do. I wish he’d let gomy hand at least. He hasn’t released it since the ceremony. He has no compunction dragging my hand where he likes, but I'm remiss to do the same. I can't seem to work up the bravery to ask for a turn with our hands. I try to slice through my bison steak one-handed—impossible.I push my plate aside. I could pick it up and chomp through it, but Papa would have a fit—he’s taught me better manners than that. I’ll eat tomorrow. The Elven prince looks down at me, his features twist in concern. “Are you not hungry, Tahsen?”
I think he just said part of my new name.Why would he call me by my middle name over my first name, whatever it is?“No, sir. I’m hungry, just having a little trouble,” I say and glance to our linked hands, my cheeks heat. He chuckles like I’m an adorable puppy. I’m not adorable! I’m fierce, super fierce. I hide my scowl and eye my plate again.
“Youmay call me Corrik," he says.
"But you're Elven royalty, I couldn't do that."
"We are also married now, you realize?"
"Yes, I realize," I say, my face heating. I don’t know why us being married should embarrass me, but I blush every time it’s mentioned.
"Then why aren't you doing it?" he asks arching his brow.
I don't know, maybe because you're terrifying?
"You may also ask for your hand back." He makes a show of releasing my hand. "But I want you to return it when you're done."
A little thrill goes through me as he says that and I feel silly—it's just a hand, but he wants to hold it. I accept his offer and use my hand, his dragging through the motions with mine as I cut my food.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Cutting up my meat." Can’t he see I’m trying to be efficient? I thought if I cut the whole thing into pieces, I could avoid this nonsense of asking for my hand every time I need it.Doesn’t he hate this as much as I do?
"Do you always slice it up like that? Into small child-size pieces?"
"No," I say. "But that way we can both eat in peace. I won't have tokeep asking for my hand and therefore asking you to give yours up. It will be easier that way."
"And do you think a marriage is easy? That we can find shortcuts when our problems don’t suit us?"
"No." I see where he's going with this. I'll bet this lousy handcuff tradition is an exercise to illustrate to the newlywed couple how one must give and take in a marriage—blah, blah, blah. I don't need a lecture or this game to understandthat. Besides, for the prince, er, for Corrik and I, it's different. We're not in love. This game is pointless for us.
