He didn’t bother with a glass, just tilted his head and drank the wine straight from the bottle. It was far lighter than it should have been, which probably accounted for the haze over his mind. The bottle had been full when he’d procured it from the cellar, before he’d begun methodically draining it.
A light knock on the door interrupted his maudlin thoughts, but he ignored it in favor of taking another swig from the bottle. When the door opened despite his silence, it didn’t surprise him to see his cousin Xan Cormyr step inside.
“Come to join me?” he asked, holding up the bottle.
“And interrupt your pity party? I couldn’t possibly,” Xan drawled, but he came over and perched on the edge of the desk, anyway. “You’re supposed to be downstairs in a half hour for the ceremony.”
“Trust me, I know. That’s why I have this.” His words slurred at the edges. He wasn’t quite drunk, but he wasn’t sober, either.
“Your parents will kill you if you show up to your own wedding drunk and embarrass them,” Xan warned, snagging the bottle out of Syrus’ hand when he tried to take another drink.
“If they wanted me to go into this sober, they wouldn’t have married me off to a fucking raider. He’ll slit my throat the first chance he gets.”
“So you decided that the best way to deal with that was to lose yourself in a wine bottle? Way to keep your guard up.”
“You’d do the same thing if they forced you to marry someone you hate,” Syrus muttered. He half-heartedly reached for the bottle, but Xan kept it out of his reach. His cousin was half his size and he could easily take the wine back if he really wanted to, but the last thing he needed was Xan pissed off at him, too. His revenge would be swift and devastating, coming when Syrus least expected it.
“Perhaps, but I’d save it for after the ceremony. Now get up so we can finish getting you ready.”
“I’m already ready.” He snorted, wine-soaked mind amused by the phrase. “Already ready.”
“Clearly.” Xan arched an eyebrow, looking Syrus up and down and clearly finding him wanting. With a sigh, he slid off the desk and disappeared into the washroom, returning without the wine bottle but with a cup of water, which he plunked down in front of Syrus. “Drink this. All of it.”
If anyone else had ordered him about like this, he’d have challenged them to a fight. Xan was in a class all his own, though, and he obeyed the tiny tyrant, downing the cool water in a few long gulps.
“Satisfied?” His head was already a little clearer, not that he’d ever admit it out loud.
“Not even close. Get up so I can work. I’m not letting you embarrass yourself tonight.”
Syrus let Xan lead him into the washroom, squinting against the bright magelights illuminating every corner. “Did you have to make it so bright?”
“It’s not that bright. You’re just drunk.” Xan pushed his shoulder until he sat again, this time on the tiny stool in front of the vanity. “Now be quiet and let me work.”
Syrus relented, something he’d never do for anyone else. He rarely even let his valet help him, preferring to ready himself for everything but the most formal occasions, but for Xan, he sat still while his cousin ran a razor over his face, neatening his beard and trimming it into shape. Concoctions he had no name for went into his hair, smoothing his braids, which fell nearly to his shoulders. He balked when Xan opened a bag of cosmetics, but wisdom prevailed and he sat still and allowed his eyes to be rimmed in dark liner, his eyelids dusted with a subtle glimmer of shade.
Xan eyed him critically, head tilted, then finally nodded. “Better. If you’d met me earlier like I told you to, I could have done more, but this will do.”
“I’m not out to impress anyone tonight,” Syrus reminded him, eyeing himself in the mirror. The effect was subtle but effective, something he would have worn for a night on the town, looking for a bit of fun.
Xan paused while packing up his bag. “You know, you could at least attempt to get to know him.”
No need to clarify who he meant, of course. Syrus rolled his eyes. “I know everything I need to know about him. Not only is he a raider, but he instigated an uprising against his king. We’ve faced off dozens of times over the last decade and if we bothsurvive to the end of the year, no one will be more surprised than me.”
“You didn’t even know his name until the handfasting ceremony, though. You don’t know who he really is. The two of you are going to spend the rest of your lives together. Would it kill you to try?”
“Probably,” he scoffed, earning an aggrieved sigh from Xan. “Look, I’m not going to antagonize him, but we’re not going to be friends. His rooms have already been arranged and we’re far enough apart that we’ll never have to interact. We’ll go about our separate lives as best we can and play nice when Mother forces us all to appear in public.”
“That just sounds sad,” Xan said, wrinkling his nose. He yelped and dodged back when Syrus tugged at his curls, quickly smoothing them back down. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone about it.” The ‘for now’ was heavily implied.
“Let’s just get this over with so I can finish that bottle of wine.”
“Sy, promise me you won’t get drunk at the wedding dinner.”
“I’m a man of my word, so I’m not going to promise that.” Honestly, the beer and ale were the only parts of the dinner he was looking forward to. “I still don’t know why my mother insisted on having it. I know it’s tradition, but everyone knows we’re being forced into this marriage. Why are they acting like it’s something to celebrate?”
“It’s an excuse to wear our fancy clothes and eat amazing food that we don’t have to pay for.” Xan’s cheeky grin drew a reluctant smile in response. Honestly, his cousin was a complete brat and acted the part of a spoiled noble almost too well, but he’d done more to soothe Syrus’ nerves in twenty minutes than a full bottle of wine had managed in two hours.
“Are you escorting me down?”
