You’ll see.
Really helpful. Thanks, Ebron.
They encircle King Sevrin and I in rocks, and I get the feeling each rock was chosen with care. Flowers are laid on each of the rocks in a way that seems intentional. They even stand back each time they place something, then lean down and shift it around until they’re satisfied, which is a little odd. It’s just surprising to see the men being so deliberate and gentle. I hadn’t thought they were capable of such a thing.
A Hollowborn appears before the king, handing him a fistfull of blue flowers. King Sevrin shifts closer to me, his expression calm. “May I?”
I nod, even though I don’t know what I’m agreeing to.
He moves closer and begins to weave the blue flowers through my hair with a tenderness I could never imagine from such a big, scary-looking man. When he’s done, more flowersare brought to him, and he presses these into my hands like a bouquet.
“Choose one,” he says, “and put it behind my ear.”
I do as he says, feeling strange, like this is far too intimate of a gesture for the current state of our relationship, but I do it anyway. I tuck the flower behind his ear. It looks out of place on the intimidating man, but I kind of like it.
Our eyes meet, and something passes between us. I look away, feeling flustered.
“Flowers are few and far between where we come from, but everyone knows the stories about the role of flowers on a binding day,” he tells me, and again, there’s a gentleness in his voice that doesn’t quite fit.
His people place flowers behind their ears too, ones that match their king’s, and then they stand closer to us. Eight Hollowborn. Close enough for me to touch. It’s unsettling.
The golden-eyed Hollowborn looks around the circle, seeming to make eye contact with each man. “I, Sevrin Grimsbane, King of the Hollowborn, do solemnly swear my life, my blood, and my love to–” He freezes. “What’s your name?”
“Harper Nightborne.”
His mouth curls into a smile. “Harper Nightborne.” Then he withdraws a dagger, and I have to fight every instinct within me to not jump back. He slits the skin of his thumb and continues, “Before all gathered here, I vow that she shall be my wife, my partner, and my beloved in all things. Her welfare, and that of our children, shall stand above all else. Their safety shall be my sacred charge, their happiness my life’s devotion. I will live for them, and if fate demands it, die for them. She shall never know solitude while I draw breath. She holds my unwavering loyalty, my deepest respect, and my eternal gratitude for all she is and all she will be, as my companion and the mother of our children.”
Then he hands me the dagger and motions to my thumb. Stomach flipping, I try not to show a reaction as I slice my own thumb, and try to think of what I can say that will make this king happy after his deep vows, but that will still allow me to stay true to myself. “I, Harper Nightborne of the Dravari, make a vow, before all gathered here, that I will be loyal to you, my king, and do my duty to our people. I will stand beside you when times are good and when they’re not. I will serve the realm as your queen, with honesty, respect, and resolve.”
I felt like the words were tumbling clumsily out of my mouth, but I sound surprisingly calm and steady to my own ears. When I finish, King Sevrin gives me a short nod, and I get the sense that he approved of my vows, even though I didn’t pepper them with lies about love or friendship. This is a marriage of convenience. We both know that. Even though after everything I’ve been through that face feels like it’s really starting to settle in for the first time.
Somehow, I’ve ended up married to someone I don’t know and don’t love.
That wasn’t what I planned for my future. Not as a child. Not even as a young woman.
“We are now bound to each other,” King Sevrin says, and presses his bloody thumb to mine.
A jolt runs through me as I hand his bloodied dagger back, and we regard each other for a long minute with our thumbs pressed together. A cold wind whips around the cliff top, sending the various colored flowers swaying and dancing in the breeze. Something in me recognizes the weight of this moment. This is the beginning of the rest of my life bound to this stranger.
“You belong to me now,” he says, a husky note to his voice as his gaze sweeps over me.
A shiver rolls down my spine. “Then don’t you belong to me?”
His smile is a little frightening with the bone mask facepaint. “I do.”
He pulls his thumb away from mine and resheaths his dagger. Moving to my side, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, his much larger frame dwarfing mine, and looks around at his men. “The binding ceremony is complete!”
They begin screaming and hollering, jumping up and down excitedly. Water skins are produced from the packs on the backs of their bone wyrms, and the men begin drinking. Only, I suspect it’s not water. One of them pulls out a stringed instrument that looks similar to one of our lutes, but is smaller. Music begins playing, a jaunty song that gets all of them dancing.
One Hollowborn approaches us and offers his king a water skin with a bow. King Sevrin nods and takes a long sip before handing it to me. I hesitate, wanting my wits about me. I’m not entirely sure I’m safe just yet, but I get the sense that refusing would be rude, so I take a small sip. The drink is sharp and unpleasant, definitely liquor, but not like anything I’ve had before. Thanking them, I hand it back.
The king steps away from me and puts out his hand. Hesitantly, I put my hand in his, and he carefully leads me to a soft spot in the grass. I keep an eye on Ebron at all times, not wanting to get too far from him. I know that Ebron is as uncomfortable and unhappy as I am to be surrounded by our enemies. The marriage ceremony may be done, but I don’t know how much that changes things between King Sevrin and I. I don’t know how his people see marriages. Will he simply kill me if he’s displeased and go onto the next bride? I have no idea.
We sit and watch the others. Many Hollowborn leave the cliffside and head into the woods. I’m not sure why, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea. My people really don’t like them on our lands. They might have agreed to leave this cliff for our meeting, but that doesn’t mean they have free range of our lands.
“King Sevrin–”
“Just Sevrin, we’re married,” he tells me simply.
