A spark of energy ran down her arm at the contact. His hand was warm, wrapping around hers in a gentle grip. Meena squeezed firmly back.
She would not let her hand lie limply in his as if she had no part in this arrangement.
She had proposed this marriage, for the good of everyone they loved, even if not for each other.
And though her head knew it was not a real marriage, her heart couldn’t help but wish that it was.
Queen Cara lifted her own hands, placing a long yellow strip of silk around the couple’s joined hands, looping it around them multiple times.
Sol’s eyes dropped to watch her movements.
Meena did the same, but as her mother continued to wrap the full length of the silk into a beautiful weave around their hands and wrists, Meena found her eyes glancing up at Sol again.
She was struck once again at how young his face was. If she was going to marry someone, it would be someone like him. Someone who was close to her in age. Someone who took themselves seriously and cared deeply enough about those he loved to spend his life working for their good.
When she had tied the yellow ribbon closed, Queen Cara placed her hands around their joint one. She paused for a moment, as was customary, silently offering her support and well wishes for the new couple.
“May this union, beginning in companionship, grow into joy,” she whispered. Her words were vague, but also sounded like something a mother would say if her daughter truly was getting married.
With a small smile, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Meena’s cheek.
Meena swallowed loudly. The moment was as beautiful as she’d imagined it would be, except for the hollow bloom in her stomach.
Queen Cara lifted her eyes to Sol’s for a moment, and Meena felt her mother squeeze their hands as she nodded to him.
Sol nodded in return, and Meena felt his grasp on her hand tighten.
When her mother stepped back, Meena’s father took her place. He surrounded their bound hands with his own. His eyes, crinkled softly in affection, met Meena’s.
“May this union be for the good of our peoples,” he whispered.
Blinking, he turned his gaze to Sol.
Sol inclined his head slightly in response to the intensity of the king’s gaze.
The king placed one hand on Sol’s shoulder. Leaning toward Meena, he used his other hand to softly pull her into a hug.
Meena leaned into him, twisting the upper half of her body as her hand was still bound to Sol’s. She saw her father gently shake Sol’s shoulder as he pulled her close.
Meena swallowed as her father stepped away. He was trusting them to accomplish this. He was trusting in her and in a complete stranger.
She brought her eyes back to Sol.
This time, his eyes met hers, clear and confident. His hand still gripped hers tightly inside the cocoon of ribbon.
They were in this together.
Meena smiled as an elder monk stepped forward. He carried a scroll which he opened when he stood in front of the couple.
“Do you know the words of the betrothing?” he whispered to Sol.
Sol shook his head.
“I will lead, then,” the monk responded. He whispered the first words from the scroll then paused for Sol to repeat them.
“I choose to bind myself to you,” Sol repeated slowly, his voice was low but carried strongly. “Under the eyes of the people gathered here today, I pledge my life, happiness, health, and belongings to thee. May these witnesses see that I keep my promise to thee for all time.”
Meena could feel his muscles tense through their joined hands as he spoke the last words. Words he did not intend to keep.
