Awkwardly I smooth down my suit. I bet his isn’t crumpled. I cast a quick glance to check. Nope. Impeccable. He is perfect. I mean his suit is perfect. Though I can not deny that the body filling it is exquisite. Such a shame about his personality.
He is taking me by the arm and leading me up the stairs. Time to concentrate on being all graceful and gracious. And I mustn’t forget to smile.
He starts to introduce me to the staff. I really need to pay attention. These are the people who have the power to make my life hell if they don’t like me. And I want them to like me anyway. I want everyone to like me. I adore most people so I don’t see why the feeling shouldn’t be returned. Plus, I am adorable. If only Sothbridge could see that.
Somehow I make my way through the greetings. The staff seem lovely. I can’t discern any discontent. Perhaps Sothbridge isn’t horrid to everyone. That’s a promising sign.
Sothbridge whisks me along to the small, family chapel attached to the house. It is all gothic architecture and stained glass windows. I think it is lovely until I remember I’m about to get married in it. At least there is a small reprieve of meeting the guests.
I barely have time to set eyes upon Denise before she is wrapping her arms around me. Her stocky muscles haven’t gotten any weaker, but she has grown out her salt and pepper buzz cut. This new pixie cut looks good on her.
“Good to see you, kid!”
“You too!” I grin. “How’s the wife?”
“Beautiful,” grins Denise.
I wish I could have wrangled a plus one for Denise but getting my former bodyguard invited was a feat in itself. As with most Old Blood weddings, there are only around thirty guests. Discreet, simple and humble is the aim.
“You did this on purpose, right?” she asks quietly so that only I will hear.
Her blue eyes are filled with concern and I feel awful. Time for my biggest grin. The one I reserve for emergencies.
“Of course!” I beam. “I planned to catch Sothbridge and it’s all worked out perfectly!” My conspiratorial whisper sounds utterly believable.
She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she does know me, so I’m not surprised. She has witnessed firsthand the idiocy I am capable of.
“If you say so, kid. But if you need him kneecapped, just let me know.”
I can’t help giggling at the idea and when her expression softens, I’m glad. I really don’t want her to think that her resignation to enjoy married life caused all this. Mother and I agreed to dally in hiring a replacement precisely to create the opportunity to ensnare Duke Rakeswell. I ended up catching Sothbridge instead, but hey, the plan ‘marry a duke’ has worked perfectly.
Denise flashes me another smile before going to find her seat. I look around the guests. So many people are missing. My older brother is still away on his top secret work. My cousin and good friend Eban has been cast out of society for having an affair with his bodyguard and causing his husband to divorce him in disgust. I don’t even have any way of contacting him. I don’t even know if he has heard that I am getting married. It’s a little depressing. But it can’t be helped. Yay for true love, I guess. At least I hope and assume he is living with Bastion in bliss somewhere.
Everyone falls silent. The priest has walked in. My heart is going to beat out of my chest, but by some miracle my legs are still working. I walk up to the altar and join Sothbridge.
The priest hurries through the marriage part. Everyone is far more interested in the joining of mage and vessel which comes next, but as he declares us wed, I can’t fight the wave of sheer terror that washes over me at this irreversible thing that has been done.
My gaze flicks up to Sothbridge’s. The priest places my hand into Sothbridge’s warm, strong one and I’m sure the duke must feel me trembling. Sothbridge’s striking eyes stare down at me, his pupils widen in surprise and then his look softens. He gives my hand a little squeeze as if he is trying to comfort me. Is he trying to be nice? This is wonderful. Maybe there is hope for us yet.
The priest raises his cowl and the chanting starts. A red cord is wrapped around our hands, symbolically joining us together. It’s tied off in an elaborate knot, then everything stops. Everyone is staring at me. Oh gosh! Hastily I drop to my knees. How on earth did I forget this is the part where I kneel? I look up at Sothbridge who is towering above me. He places his unbound hand on the crown of my head, as he is supposed to, and he smirks. The bastard. Yes, okay, this is an extremely suggestive position but there is no need to be childish about it.
But the naughty gleam in his eyes is flipping my stomach over and the feel of his hand on my hair as I kneel here like this is stirring a lazy coil of desire within me. It’s far too easy to imagine him curling his fingers into my hair, unzipping his fly and pulling me onto him. Memories of the weight and feel of the dildo flood my mind and suddenly I am very aroused. During my binding ceremony, in a chapel. On my wedding day. In front of friends and family. I’m such a fiend.
Luckily, it appears that when I’m truly mortified, I don’t blush at all. At least I can’t feel my cheeks heating. Perhaps I have drained of all color instead. Sothbridge certainly has something akin to concern in his eyes.
I stare back at him, and it is as if the rest of the world falls away. Nothing else exists save for this man. This man who is now my husband. My master. My mage. I can sense his powerful presence. I can feel the warmth of his body. His magic coils around me as if it is tasting me, exploring me. I feel like a mouse hypnotized by a snake but I’m not even sure if I want to escape.
My mouth stumbles over my vows. Especially the line about obeying. Thank heavens I rehearsed them so many times. My tongue is remembering even though my mind is not.
“Blessed be!” everyone chants, and it startles me.
It’s done. That’s the end of the ceremony. I am bound to Sothbridge. As his vessel and his husband. I think I am going to faint.
Chapter six
It’smyweddingnightand I’ve been standing here staring at myself in the mirror for far too long. I’m clearly losing my mind. But when Sothbridge,my husband,finally makes it upstairs, I have to know if he is going to like what he sees.
The long white gown I’m wearing is traditional, so there is not a lot I can do about it. It fits me well, falling precisely to my ankles. It’s sheer enough to be tantalizing without leaving me feeling too exposed.
