Page 14 of Tristan
The crowd is quiet until Corrik gets down to his knees in front of me, gasps and whispers fill the silence. He's so large, he still looms over me, and I have to turn my face up to see his. I can’t believe he’s on his knees before me—it seems wrong—this isn’t a man who kneels, yet here he is kneeling before me: his concubine. One hand still on my cheek, he pulls my face to his, and our lips meet—it's like lightning all over again. I don't know if it's the kiss of a thousand kisses like Papa's story, but I know I'll remember it till I die.
The crowd claps and cheers when we part. Corrik smiles as much as Corrik smiles, and I'm glad I've managed to thaw the ice mountain a little. I look over to my fathers, they arebothsmiling—my father seldom smiles—and it's not just any smile, it's one that beams with pride. He nods minutely; no one sees it, but I have. Corrik stands us up, and we both give a bow to our onlookers.
"Please join us for more dancing," he says.
The music starts again, but we return to our seats, thank the Gods. I don't think I'd like to dance after that performance. "That meant a lot to me, Tristan," Corrik says rubbing our joined handswith his thumb. He bends in for another chaste kiss. “I like kissing you.”
I pull back. “I like kissing you too.”And Gods, do I. “But Corrik, there are so many people—it’s inappropriate.”
“Oh yes, I forgot about your Markaytian sensibilities.”
He’s mocking me.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting intimacies kept private.” I don’t know where my sudden boldness comes from. I probably shouldn’t speak to the prince like that.
“What makes you think you will have any say over what‘intimacies,' as you call them, will be in private, or not? I think I’ve demonstrated that I hold the key to those practices.”
He’s teasing me, pulling on the chain around his neck, revealing the key to the chastity belt I wear.
“Because you seem like a decent man. Am I wrong?”
“Indeed, you are. I am in no way decent when it comes tointimacies.” His eyes sparkle on the word and his mouth smirks. He means it, he’s proud of it evenand he’s stillmaking fun of me. It would appear that he has more confidence talking of these matters than I do.
Markaytians are open with our bodies, but private about what we do with them, unless your name is Lucca Kanes of course. He is the exception, not the rule.
I think the prince is flirting with me—I’m not sure. He’s hard to read. “Then I’m left with no choice, but to bow to your mercy my Liege,” I say hoping it will further our playful banter, but I don’t think I should’ve said such a thing. His breathing gets heavier, and he’s restrained again, his hand tightens around mine.
Thankfully the Elven king and queen interrupt us. “That was beautiful, Kathir,” she says.
Ka-what? Oh yeah. My name—my Elvish name.
“Yes, my dear it was,” the king agrees with her. They both smile radiant smiles and I wonder how such a rough character like Corrik could come from these two—I would think their son would emit the same sunshine.
“Thank you,” I say. Corrik is still in the grip of whatever madness possesses him, his hand tightens further still; it hurts. If he squeezes anymore, he’ll break something. The king and queen seem to understand what Corrik is going through and what he needs. “Ahhhhh, yes my son, after such a powerful display of devotion on both your parts you will need—"
Corrik shakes his head at his father, the king stops speaking, getting his meaning; I do too. There is something Corrik doesn’t want said in front of me. I look to the queen, though I don’t know why, it’s not as if she’ll tell me their secrets.
“It’s time for the two of you to go upstairs,” she says. They depart, and I’m left alone with an Elf that’s gone stone silent and the vibe he’s sending says he wants to sink his teeth into me.
Finally, he speaks. “They’re right, we must go.Now.”
He doesn’t drag me this time, my human speed too slow for him. Instead, he heaves me over his shoulder—without any effort—and carries me out of our wedding reception like I’m nothing more than a sack of potatoes.
“Corrik! You let me down now! This is undignified!” I’ve screamed at him and pounded on his back the whole way up to our rooms to no avail. He won’t speak, nor will he pay any heed to what I’m saying. He doesn’t need to ask me where to go, it seems he already knows where our rooms are.
“Put me down this instant you lout!”
Okay, so I’ve gotten a little braver on the way up here. I couldn’t get away from him so I fought back in the only way I could: by shouting obscenities at him. Inside our rooms he puts me down and shuts the door while I let loose.
“Just what did you think you were doing carrying me throughout the palace like that? Of all the embarrassing—"
He waits with his free arm crossed over his chest until I stop myrants, which I do, but only because the way he’s focused on me is unnerving.What’s he going to do?When he still doesn’t speak, I divest myself of the ridiculous rabbit fur cape and throw it on the floor. I’m still not over being carried through the palace,my home, slung over his shoulder. I could be forgiving, but I’m not in the mood.
“Have you nothing to say for yourself? No? Then I’m going to bed—you can consummate the marriage yourself.”
I turn away knowing full well I can do nothing chained to him, but it’s the gesture that counts. I make my best attempt at dragging him with me, but it’s like trying to drag a large block of granite and I go nowhere. Yet with just a tiny flick of his wrist, I find myself pressed against the large Elf’s chest. He nuzzles his mouth into my neck, and I shiver and freeze as his soft lips press themselves down my neck leaving a wet trail. It feels good, and for a brief moment I forget I’m mad at him.
But then I remember. “Corrik,stop.”
