“Three hours?”
Suddenly, she imagined him pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Weddings had kisses. She felt very suddenly panicked about that.
“What am I supposed to expect with this wedding?”
“It will be quick.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“A traditional Aslandian wedding.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Of course not. Because in these last twenty-five years my culture was nearly wiped out. Though I was living with villagers who still held to the old ways. And that’s why I feel such a strong connection to those ways now. It is very much a warrior’s wedding. There are vows, and then rather than a kiss, the husband cuts through his cloak and gives a piece of it to the wife. Binding both their hands with it to symbolize the union. But she has taken up his cause, and he has offered his protection.”
It felt so grave. But it was a relief that she wasn’t going to have to kiss him.
“You’re not a very romantic people,” she said. She said it to make herself feel better.
The space between his brows creased. “Do you not find that romantic? Perhaps it is because my life was marked by betrayal that I find the swearing of loyalty to be the deepest, most romantic concept there is.”
“Do you?” Those blue eyes hit her hard. “I mean, do you feel that it’s romantic?”
“No. I don’t feel it. But I don’t feel much of anything. Still, I recognize it for what it is.”
“I guess that proves that I’m right, about the lack of romanticism here.”
“I suppose that it does. But we will see just how much that is true by how many people come.”
“Somehow I have a feeling that the crowd will turn out in force for their king that they thought long dead, especially now that they think he’s found love.”
He laughed, that cold, chilling laugh again. “It is best they don’t know the truth. I might not have died that day, but most of me did. It will be a show. But as long as we put on a good one, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
Chapter Four
HE WAS DRESSEDin a military uniform, one that denoted his high rank, and the accompanying cloak, which would be part of the ceremony. He found that he had underestimated his captive. She was extremely clever. Perhaps more clever when it came to these matters than he was. He would have to watch her closely. She had spoken of her father, said that he was manipulative.
It was clear that she understood the mechanics of manipulation.
He would have to keep special watch on her to ensure that she wasn’t trying to do it to him.
Though what he had said to her was true. He did not have finer feelings. That made it very difficult for him to be manipulated. Though when he had touched her hand…
Yes. There were other ways to manipulate men. And he was no better than any other man when it came to matters of the flesh.
He had made a bargain with her. He would not take her to bed. And at this point, it was for his own security as well as hers.
She was a very sharp knife in a drawer. A valuable thing, but if you reached around blindly, it could be used against you.
He walked out of his chamber, and down the stairs, toward where they would convene for the wedding, just as the door to her quarters opened. She came out, her hair styled elaborately, with white flowers placed in her dark curls, the wedding gown fitting closely against curves that had only been hinted at in the clothes she had worn so far.
She was so feminine and fragile. The kind of thing he would have to be careful holding in his hand. He had no gentleness in him. He could crush her far too easily.
That is part of her charm. Part of her ability to manipulate. Nothing is fragile about this woman, and you know it.
Yes. He did know that. Because she had fought him and fought him well when he had taken her captive. And when she had discovered that fighting him physically wouldn’t work she had fought him with her wits. And now she had convinced him to create this story where they were in love. And he could see the easy merit in it. But he had to wonder if she was seeing something that he didn’t.
She looked at him, and a delicate blush colored the top of her cheekbones.
