Page 14 of Bred By the Emperor

I curb my temper and try to look on the bright side. Their shuffle gives me a chance to really study my beautiful bride. When the light from an upper window hits her veil, I forget how breathing works. White silk spills around her like moonlight. Tiny pearls shimmer along the edges of her veil. Her blond hair has been twisted into an elaborate knot beneath the diamond crown of Kellimar.

My wife is stunning.

Someone nudges my elbow. Zarek, my youngest son. The person who dragged him out of whatever love nest he was cozied up in and put a suit on him deserves hazard pay. Both boys are standing beside me in a show of public unity. At least they have learned something about leadership under my tutelage.

“I can see why you stole her away from Kenton.” He winks. “I might’ve been tempted to do the same thing.”

I grunt, and, with the final straw of my patience snapping, I marched halfway down the aisle to meet them. Gasps echo through the cathedral.

“Majesty, you are supposed to wait for her at the front!” my assistant hisses. “The bride walks to the groom, not the other way around.”

“They were moving too slow. She’s taking too long.” How fucking hard is it to get a wedding ceremony over with, anyway?

Lili laughs. She bends and whispers something to her grandfather, then helps him into the nearest pew and takes my arm. “I’m supposed to make an entrance,” she says.

“You already did. Ten more feet won’t matter. I have waited long enough.”

“You waited less than three minutes.”

“I’ve waited hours,” I contradict her. “I am not a patient man.”

We reach the altar and kneel before the bishop. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to bless the union of Emperor Malakai of Enovar and Princess Liliviere of Kellimar⁠—”

“Get to the point.” I snap my fingers and indicate that he needs to hurry things along. The jowly old man stares at me in shock.

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?”

“The ‘I do’ part. Just skip ahead.”

“I will not demean this most holy and important ceremony,” he says gravely. I want to punch him in his ruddy nose. He begins again. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two public figures⁠—”

I groan audibly. Liliviere struggles to contain her giggles.

“This would proceed faster if you would stop interrupting,” the bishop chides us both. “Do you want this done the right way, or not?”

“I just want it done. Fast.”

Laughter ripples through the crowd behind us. I grit my teeth and suffer through the next fifteen minutes of admonitions, lecturing, and moralizing before he gets to the promising part. “Repeat after me. I, Malakai…”

Easy.

“Promise to love, honor, and cherish…”

Naturally. Obviously. Always.

“…and forsaking all others…”

“I have been doing that for the past ten years.”

Liliviere elbows me in the ribs. “Just say it, Malakai, or we’ll be here all night.”

“Forsaking all others.”

The rest of the vows are mercifully short. When it’s her turn, I’m surprised how much emotional impact her promises have on me. I’m not a weeper by any means, but tears glisten in my eyes, hearing her promise to pledge herself to me in sickness and in health, forever and ever, until death do us part.

That last bit sends a wave of worry cascading through me. My last wife died. We were parted. Permanently. I was devastated. It took me a very long time to get over it. I won’t let the same thing happen to Lili.

The bishop blesses the rings, and I slide mine onto her finger. The golden circle set with diamonds. Looks like it always belonged there. “I now pronounce you⁠—”