It looks like all of court is here. Even all of Rhydian’s brothers. This must be quite an event. I’m getting curious now.
I glance up at Rhydian. I’m standing in my proper space, two steps down from the dais, so even though he is sitting, I still have to look up at the bastard.
And glancing up at him doesn’t even help. His stupidly handsome face is stoic and blank. Not giving anything away. Such an asshole. If this is going to be exciting or important, he could have told me.
He regally lifts one finger from his grip on the ornate armrests, and the room falls silent. I quickly turn and face the room like I’m supposed to.
Rhydian strides past me. Down the steps of the dais, and down to the small circle of empty floor the crowd has formed. What the hell?
He turns slightly back towards me and beckons me with one imperious finger. What the double hell?
My heart is racing. I have no clue what is going on. The entire court has fallen into a hushed silence and I can feel athousand pairs of eyes on me. I trust Rhydian, so this can’t be anything bad. Despite that, this not knowing what the flip is going on is deeply unsettling.
Rhydian positions me directly in front of him. Everyone is watching us. Okay, Jamie. Take a deep breath. Stand up straight. Act like you have been expecting this. You can do this.
Great, now I’m talking to myself.
Rhydian’s long fingers run through my hair. Oh, that feels nice. He pulls and twists. He is doing another braid? Thanks to fey food, my hair is nearly at my shoulders now, so there is enough to play with. I already have a couple of braids. Is he doing all my hair up? And why? Why is all of court here, watching us?
His fingers drop down to my neck. They reach around to the front of my collar. Something thuds on the floor. A cool breeze dances along my naked neck.
Rhydian unbuckled my collar. He took it off. Here. Now. In front of everyone.
I swallow dryly. What does it mean? Is he setting me free? Am I no longer his pet? Do I have to go back to my old life? Is he dumping me?
The last thought reverberates around my mind like a panicked scream. No, no, no. He cannot be dumping me!
My frantic gaze finds Mabon. He is crying. Well, delicately dabbing at his eyes with a lace handkerchief. Oh, gods. That can’t be good. My gaze flicks to Dyfri, who is standing next to his brother. Dyfri’s dark eyes are calm and he gives me a barely perceptible nod. Next to him is Tristan, who is grinning broadly.
Fat lot of help my friends are. Now I’m even more confused than ever.
“Behold!” calls out Rhydian loudly, making me jump.
“I present, Jamie Wyf Rhydianogi” he says solemnly.
The crowd clap and cheer. Jewellery jangles.
My mind scrabbles for purchase. For something to cling onto. I feel as if I am drowning. I’m so confused. That’s not my name. Well, the Jamie part is. Am I getting a new name? Was that my fey name? Is that what is happening?
Rhydian takes my hand and turns me around. Side by side, we walk back up the steps to the dais. I blink. There are two thrones at the top now. Servants must have whisked it in silently while I was facing the other way. The second one is much smaller and shorter. But it is still very much a throne.
Rhydian seats me on the new throne and then sits on his throne next to me. He claims my hand again and holds our joined hands up.
The court have arranged themselves in a vague semblance of a line and are taking turns to step up to the foot of the dais and bow or curtsy. Harp music is playing.
“What is happening?” I hiss at Rhydian.
My heart is about to explode out of my chest and I’m so overwhelmed I think I might faint.
“You are my consort now,” says Rhydian softly.
My mind scrambles back to a walk in the gardens I took with Tristan. We had passed a fey woman and a centaur, smooching on a bench. Tristan had told me he had been her pet and was now her consort.
My mind speeds up. Rhydian plaited my hair. He took my collar off. He gave me a new name. A name that has a word that sounds like wife in it and ends with his name and some sort of suffix.
“Oh, my god! Did we just get married?” I gasp.
“More or less,” says Rhydian.
