“Adelysia!” my mother steadied me, staring into my face. “Easy now, my darling, come here,” she eased me into a chair, and then took my hands. “Addy, are you unwell?”
“I just...” I looked up at her.
“Yes,” she nodded, knowing immediately what I was concerned about. “It could go badly for you. This is something your father did not consider. They could insist on their husband's rights, one after the other, or even all at once. This is a possibility. But I urge you to remember what you've learned about these men. After getting to know them myself, I highly doubt they will demand anything of you that you will be unwilling to give.”
I took a deep breath and let her words sink in.
“You're right,” I sighed. “They're good men, aren't they?”
“Almost as good as your father,” she smiled gently. “I think they will be gentle with you. And if they are not, I shall murder them in their sleep.”
My mother said it so casually that I didn't catch her meaning at first. Then I gaped at her, and she winked at me. I burst into laughter. Who knew the Queen had a sense of humor?
“There's my brave girl,” she nodded and stood. “Now get up, Adelysia, and behave like the princess you are. Your kingdom is expecting a grand celebration, and we must provide it for them.”
“A spectacle more like,” I huffed but followed my mother obediently out of my bedroom.
We made our way down to the great hall, and then out into the courtyard. We were headed to the gardens, where the gardeners were waiting for us to instruct them on which blooms to cut. They needed to begin the numerous arrangements to adorn our little chapel and the dining hall. Along the way to the gardens, we passed a small training space, reserved for knights. Evidently, royalty could use the field too. And my soon-to-be husbands were already considered royalty, even though they wouldn't be crowned till after we were wed.
I say “evidently” because all four of my men were sparring on that field. Arnet and Robyn were obviously teaching Barret and Hugin the moves of swordplay, coaching their pupils in the ways of knights. I stopped, and my mother froze with me. Both of us gawked openly at the display of male flesh. All of them were clad only in breeches, sweat dripping over rippling muscles which were covered in four different shades of skin. Hair plastered to their skulls, faces set into grimaces of determination, and their bodies twisted through complicated maneuvers.
Robyn's foot shot out and tripped Barret. “Always watch for treachery,” he said to his little brother. “In war, as in love, anything goes,” Robyn paused to wink at me, letting me know he'd been aware of our presence the entire time.
Robyn bent down and helped the laughing Barret to his feet. Barret gave me a secret smile, and then swiped his foot behind Robyn's knee, while Robyn was busy trying to make sexy eyes at me. Down went Robyn, who stared up at his brother with a mixture of irritation and respect.
So, maybe not exactly the way of knights.
“Well done, Barret,” Arnet hit his brother on the back, then he turned to us and bowed. “Robyn and I felt that all of us should be prepared to defend you if need be, Princess,” then he turned to my mother. “We treasure your daughter, Your Majesty, above all else.”
“As you should,” she nodded primly and drew me away, but I caught her smile as she turned, and I gave the men an encouraging look over my shoulder.
Robyn hadn't bothered to get up. Instead, he laid out in a sensual pose, one leg cocked up and crossed over the other, and blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes, but I, just like my mother, smiled secretly as I left.
Chapter Fourteen
The day of my wedding dawned bright and beautiful, shades of rose and orange streaking the sky. I stood on my balcony, wrapped in a fur robe, and watched as it lightened into pale dandelion, and then into pale blue. Clouds appeared, streaking across the blue with pure white slashes. As white as my wedding gown.
I turned to look at the finished dress, hanging from a rack beside my mirror. It looked as if it had been woven into the sleek shape. Every piece, from the fitted sleeves with their rows of pearl buttons, to the skirts with their lace hem, appeared to have been woven together. The neckline was modestly curved, but the waist cinched in tight. The skirts were very full, but since they were made of the finest silk, they would hang heavy around my thighs. There was a train, which would be attached to the dress by a diamond-studded, velvet belt. A matching diamond necklace waited on my vanity, laid on a bed of blue velvet along with my crown. I was already wearing the underclothes Barret had designed for me.
I took a deep breath of the crisp air and allowed myself to be truly happy. My wedding day was here at last. In just a few hours they would be mine, and I would be theirs. No one would be able to separate us. It brought such a feeling of utter peace to me that I wanted to fall to my knees and thank whatever had brought them to me. Be it God or simply good luck. Thank you for changing my life.
I turned when a knock came at my door and watched as a procession of women filed in, led by my mother. She looked radiant, already dressed in her finest crimson gown, and wearing her most elaborate crown. She saw me and started to cry.
“Mother,” I rushed to her. “Why are you crying?”
“I'm just so happy,” she sobbed, “You'll be married to men you love and who love you. I couldn't have hoped for anything better. I'm so sorry I ever opposed this marriage.”
“You were just being my mother,” I shook my head and then hugged her. “And I love you for it.”
“I love you too, Addy,” she pulled back and wiped at her tears. “Now let's make you so beautiful, those men will faint.”
“Fainting men,” Jenny, one of the maids, giggled. “Now that's something I'd love to see.”
“Then get busy, girl,” my mother waved her along. “We have work to do.”
Two hours later, I was standing outside the doors to our chapel, holding my father's arm. My lips and cheeks were lightly rouged, my hair was loose and curling (as Arnet had shaped it once), and my dress was perfect. My father walked me forward, my train flaring out behind me, as I clutched a bouquet of roses and ivy. My men were waiting at the altar with our priest, looking as nervous as any bridegroom could. They were all dressed in white, just as I was, but their garments were leather and velvet. And they looked amazing in them.
They saw me and went still, all of them smiling at once, and my mouth went dry. It was almost too much male beauty to behold at one time. How would I ever hold my own with them? All they would have to do is look at me like that, en masse, and I would crumble. But then I noticed how they stared at me with the same wonderment, as if they couldn't believe we would soon belong to each other.
