Everyone in the cathedral made noises that would be better aimed at a cub or baby, but Girion dismissed the cooing and “aww” ing. His bride looked cold. His job was to take care of her, starting now.
“Thank you,” Jo whispered, smiling up at him.
His heart tried to claw its way from his chest, and he croaked, “Welcome.”
Bishop Stoddard, elderly and still agile, beamed at them. “That is the truest type of partnership, of love, of care. Being able to sacrifice one’s comfort for another. To do what is best for the other, and esteem the other higher than oneself. I have known King Girion since he was born, and I was here as a cleric when he was presented within these very walls. I can say that he has always put his people first, and so I have no hesitation in his choice of bride, the mage Jocasta Waterman. What is more, I have met with this lovely bride and her good, kind parents. They are the soul of Caledon, good, hardworking people who love and care for others. Those who think Caledon is an icy land, ruled by an icy hand, are wrong. Like our glaciers, there are miles beneath the surface, and those hidden depths are full of beauty. There is no greater beauty in my aged eyes than seeing two become one. Let us sing the sacred music, “The Joining.”
More swelling music. Girion was glad he was facing away from the congregation, able to mouth and mumble over words, his throat dry.
He could still feel Jocasta shaking near him, and he wondered if it wasn’t cold, but fear.
“You don’t have to,” he whispered, bending close under the guise of shoring up her furs.
“I want to. It’s just been a lot.”
“Soon we’ll be sitting down and stuffing our faces, watching everyone cavorting and making fools of themselves.”
“Looking forward to that.”
“Me, too.”
Songs and sermons were soon over, both brief, because Caledon’s royals might feel responsible to show a little pomp and grandeur—but not much. Besides, the doors were open, and frost was starting to form on the back row.
“Jocasta Waterman, bride of Girion, do you pledge to love, honor, and keep faith with this man, forsaking all others, in good times and bad, in wealth and want, in sorrow and joy?”
“I do.”
“Girion the Great, King of Caledon, bridegroom of Jocasta, do you promise to cherish, honor, and keep faith with this woman, forsaking all others, in good times and bad, in wealth and want, in sorrow and joy?”
“I do.”
“And furthermore, as king, do you duly choose this woman as your queen, and grant her powers to rule in all justice and fairness with you over Caledon? If so, declare your intentions.”
Girion nodded and licked his lips. Jocasta had the easy part. Well, good. He was supposed to protect and spare her trouble. “It is my intention to be united to this woman as my wife and my queen. I make these vows with all friendship and trust, as she is my ally in every way, and the love I have for her is equal to the love I have for my kingdom and my people. I could bring you no finer queen, and you could ask for no better. With all the loyalty and honor in my soul, and all the love in my heart, I choose her.”
“You may place the crown on your queen, sire.”
Girion nodded and looked at Jocasta clearly for the first time since turning to address the assembly. His eyes had glazed over, and now he blinked, stunned to see Jocasta with a radiant smile and a tear trailing over each plump cheek. He took the crown from the velvet pillow Cole held out and set the crown on her head. He hastily used his thumbs to wipe away her tears.
“That was beautiful,” she whispered.
“Thank you. I agonized over it.”
“You may place a kiss of union upon each other.”
“Practice had better make perfect,” Jocasta murmured.
Girion smirked and planted a kiss on her, just the way they had rehearsed. They had decided three seconds was the right length, and he counted those seconds in paradise before releasing her lips and resting his forehead to hers. “Queen Jocasta. It suits you.”
“All hail Queen Jocasta! All hail King Girion!”
The noise and clamor were far less regimented than the sobriety leading up to that moment, and Girion relaxed. She was his now. She belonged to the royal house.
He was already feeling warmer.
HE LOVES ME! HE SAIDit! It wasn’t in the king’s vows, but in mine, but Girion said it anyway. With all the love in his heart!Jocasta gripped his hand as they sat in the carriage. They both waved to the crowds lining the streets.
Girion squeezed her fingers within his. “You did it!”
