That wasn’t true. She had a million questions, but like most things in her life, she believed that the best way to find out the answers was to try it herself.
I won’t know whether or not walking into a cathedral full of hundreds of people makes me faint until I do it.
Chapter Eleven
The thing he had always avoided was here.
A wedding.
Love.
Well, no, not love. It was not supposed to be love, because love was power over him and...
Damn it all. If he had to protect her or protect others, he would grab Jocasta first and go back for the rest. Jocasta would be mad at him for it and would lecture all the way back to safety that she should have been second—and that thought made him ache in the middle and realize that even her arguing voice would be music to his ears, because she would still be alive.
And if she asked him to do something wrong— But she wouldn’t. He knew that. He trusted her.
The ache grew.
He was a fool, and he was going to get himself hurt, and yet every time he tried to analyze just how that would occur (like a good general should), he couldn’t find the place of attack. He couldn’t find the weakness she would exploit.
She won’t. She doesn’t want to hurt you. She cares about the kingdom.
She cares aboutme.
It felt like someone had punched him in the gut, so why was he so happy about it?
“You look as if you have a toothache. Stop it. Smile!” Cole hissed from the corner of his mouth as they stood in the cold, simple cathedral. Well, simple compared to the grand buildings in other kingdoms, perhaps. It was only called a cathedral because of its magnificent windows and its sheer size.
For a place so large, it was crammed full, and people stood outside, waving and cheering. They cheered for his arrival. They were blessed by the bishop. Another wave of screaming and joyful shouts went up, and Girion’s shoulders relaxed. “That must be the bridal carriage.”
There was a flurry of activity in the back, fanfare, and then the flutes and viols began to play, and people were rising—and it was like being caught in a raid, but there were no swords to slash or arrows to loose.
The enemy came in the form of two guards first, Herrick and Samson, then the Watermans, who seemed stunned at the spectacle around them, and then two pretty young girls in darkest blue, white fur stoles around their shoulders, single white roses in their hands. The cathedral doors were left open so that people lining the outside and waiting in the middle of Polar Square could see what they could of the ceremony.
The last to arrive was Jocasta.
The lone warrior, in her long white dress, with sleeves that flowed and dripped with lace.
She must be freezing in that thing! What could Nalar have been thinking?Girion found himself wondering, indignant at seeing his bride shivering into the cathedral, white fur wrapped around her shoulders while the rest of the dress seemed to flow down her body, a waterfall of white silk.
“Smile!” Cole hissed.
“I am smiling! Aren’t I?”
“No!”
He forced his face to obey, even though adrenaline was spiking through his system.
This is the last chance to save yourself.
This is the best chance to save your people.
Both you and your people are in safe hands with Jocasta.
The air turned warmer and sweeter as she approached.
As if blown by spring breezes, he was moved out of his place beside the altar and hurried to meet her as she made the last steps. He could feel her shaking against his arm, and he took his cape and draped it around her shoulders.
