He forced a smile, realizing he’d gone quiet for too long. “Sorry, I got lost in my head.”
“It’s okay to be nervous.” She slipped her hand into his, holding on tight. “Try to have hope, too, though. This could be the start of an amazing adventure for you.”
“You’re right. You’re always right.” He kept up his smile for her, but in his heart, he knew better. This was going to be a disaster.
“Come on. It’s time to head to the Great Hall.” Akari tugged him to his feet, taking a moment to adjust his clothing. He’d inherited the white tunic and pants, lightly embroidered with red flowers along the hem, from his father. Eachflower was unique, carefully done in shimmering red thread for luck, prosperity, and happiness. He could have choked on the irony.
His mother had gifted him the silver earrings he wore, the delicate chains nearly reaching his shoulders. They were one of the few family treasures that hadn’t been pawned. The tiny studs that ran up his ears were cheaper metals, but meant more to him than the silver. He’d earned every single one of those piercings as he’d come of age.
Akari’s upbeat chatter washed over him, soothing the edges of his ragged nerves but doing nothing to quell the growing dread threatening to choke him.
Someone tolerable. That’s all. Let them at least have chosen someone tolerable.
Surely that wasn’t too much to hope for. Eiri didn’t always see eye to eye with his parents on a lot of issues, but this was serious. This was the rest of his life. Their own marriage hadn’t been a love match, but they’d learned to love each other. Surely they’d want at least that much for him?
“Here we are,” Akari murmured. The doors to the Great Hall stood open, likely to hide the damage from the uprising. On an island where wood was scarce, repairing them would have to wait.
No one else was waiting out in the hallway, which wasn’t a good sign. He was likely the last of the forcibly volunteered to arrive.
“You should probably go find Mother,” he murmured to his sister. “Seeing you always puts her in a better mood. Perhaps she won’t be quite so upset with me for being late.”
“You’re not late. Everyone else just wanted to get it over with and see who they’re marrying, so they were early.”
Still, she kissed him on the cheek and disappeared into the Hall to find their mother, leaving Eiri standing alone andtrying not to panic.
Alliances were being formed with nearly every nation on the continent. Only Sarkhyr hadn’t sent any candidates. Apparently, there’d been some kind of conflict up there recently that they were dealing with. Still, that left Gavarria, Nevarre, Kargha, and even Caranyvik across the ocean had sent representatives to be married. The odds of him being married off to a Vaetrean were laughably small, so surely his panic was uncalled for.
He held onto that thought like a lifeline as he squared his shoulders and walked into the Hall.
Though he was the last to arrive, no one paid him much mind as he walked up the aisle. It seems everyone had already been introduced to their spouse-to-be, leaving awkward pairs standing around the room under the watchful eyes of chaperones. The chaperones were likely there not to preserve anyone’s virtue, but to prevent bloodshed between couples. His people had made a lot of enemies over the years, after all.
It was easy to spot his mother. She stood near the dais at the front of the Hall, dark eyes narrowed in annoyance as she watched him. She’d combed her hair back, not a strand out of place, and her crimson robe lay perfectly neat, skimming her slim body with the hem just barely brushing the floor.
Akari claimed he wasn’t late, but clearly Tera C’Dari did not agree with her daughter’s assessment.
Any other day, he would have tread lightly and found a way to mitigate her disappointment. Usually, his weapon of choice was Akari, who now stood beside their mother. No one could stay upset for long when Akari was around.
Today was no ordinary day, though, and the man standing beside his mother wiped away any thought of her and her anger.
Eiri froze in the aisle, his breath punching out of him in a low gasp. Because he recognized the man standing there. He’dfaced off with him on more that one occasion, with the scars to prove it. Even in the dim light of the Hall, his warm brown skin and dark hair glowed, the very picture of health and vitality. He towered over Tera and Akari, broad shoulders back and spine straight, hands clasped in front of him. He locked his dark eyes on Eiri, burning with a fiery hatred that matched Eiri’s own.
Syrus Vardor. The youngest son of Delia Vardor, queen of Vaetreas. Commander of the queen’s southern troops, responsible for defending the coast from raiders. A fierce fighter, one of the few who’d ever managed to leave their mark on him.
Syrus Vardor, Eiri’s betrothed.
Chapter 2
Syrus
The moment Syrusrecognized the man standing frozen in the doorway, everything began to make sense.
He’d wondered why his father had escorted him when Syrano Vardor was notorious for getting seasick. For something like this, he’d have expected his mother to come. While Queen Delia wielded power like the born queen she was, she was a small woman, barely reaching Syrus’ shoulder. She wouldn’t have been able to stop him if he’d tried to run, which he was seriously considering.
Unfortunately, he took more after his father. Syrano was a bear of a man, barrel-chested and broad, with thick arms that were more than capable of holding a runaway groom on the altar.
“You knew,” he hissed at his father now. He didn’t take his focus off the man in the aisle, who was glaring at him in return. “You knew she planned to marry me off to him.”
Syrus didn’t know the raider’s name, nor did he care to. He knew that face, though, almost as well as he knew his own. Years of skirmishes meant he could pick the raider’s sun-bleached head out in the middle of a fight with ease. His arms bore scars from the other man’s wickedly curved blades, just as he knew he’d left his own marks in return. The raider was a constant thorn in his side, one of the fastest crews that looted along the coast, and a ferocious fighter on the rare occasion Syrus’ team could catch up to him.
