2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Lucien

" D o you, Lucien Alexander James Mallory, take Count Felford, Andrew George William Colville, to be your lord and master? Do you solemnly vow to honor and obey his every word?"

The words ring out clearly in the small chapel. My knees hurt. This flagstone floor is unyielding and cold.

"I do," I say, and I do not know how I get the words out.

"Do you, Count Felford, solemnly swear to take this vessel as your own and provide for his needs?"

"I do." Count Felford's voice is loud and clear.

He places his hand on the top of my head and I look up at him as I am supposed to. As usual, his stunning good looks make my heart flutter, and the disdain in his eyes twists my guts.

He still doesn't like me. Seven long years of engagement, and I have tried everything. I have been the best possible vessel I could be. I even helped him with his latest hairbrained scheme, and it has all been for nothing.

I would want any husband my parents chose to like me. People are far kinder to those they are fond of. But I especially wanted Count Felford to like me, and I don't know why.

But it clearly isn't meant to be. Added to whatever flaws he sees in me, he doesn't like that I was chosen for him when he was sixteen, and there is not a thing I can do about that .

He hates me. He doesn't want me. He resents me. And he doesn't even know any of my secrets. How much worse will things be if he finds out?

"Blessed Be," chants the priest.

"Blessed Be," answers the congregation.

I swallow. It is done. I am bound to Count Felford. I am his property to do with as he chooses. I belong to a man who sneers in disgust every time he sees me.

I can look away now, but I don't. I'm caught in his dark gaze, like a rabbit in headlights. Or a mouse before a snake.

In a few short hours, this man is going to take me upstairs. He is going to take my body. Take my magic.

I have never been more terrified.

He holds out his hand, and it takes me far too long to realize he is offering me assistance.

My cheeks heat and I drop my gaze. Rising from, and dropping to, my knees is something I've done with my trainer a thousand times. I can do both gracefully. And without any help.

My fiancé really does think I'm useless. No. Wait. Felford is no longer my fiancé. He is my husband and master now. And the sound of that feels strange in my mind. I can just tell that the first time I speak it out loud, my tongue is going to tangle on the words.

I ignore his outstretched hand and flow perfectly to my feet. Showing him that I am not useless.

But he doesn't look impressed. He looks displeased. My heart sinks even further. Everything I do is wrong. No matter how hard I try.

He doesn't offer his arm as we lead our guests out of his family's chapel. It's fine. It is a fairly modern addition to wedding customs. I can pretend it is not a snub, it is simply Felford being traditional.

We make it to the dining room, and stand at the head of the table while the guests are seated. It is a small wedding party. Smaller than usual. Felford hasn't invited a soul, as far as I can see. It's just his parents and a handful of their friends from the Mage Council. My parents have brought a few people. An old uncle and a business associate.

New Year's Day is auspicious for a wedding, but I suppose it means not many people are free to attend. And that's fine. Old Blood weddings are supposed to be small and discreet. It is tasteful that way. Mundane weddings, with thousands of guests and dancing, are garish. No matter how fun they might look.

Felford's staff start serving dinner. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother wrinkle her dainty nose. But everything appears fine to me. Except perhaps, the servants did not all step forward with perfect synchronization.

I bite back my sigh. I will talk to the staff tomorrow since they are my responsibility now. Though, there is nothing to say that I have to run things as my mother does. I could choose a longer rein. That thought feels delightfully rebellious. It leaves a warm feeling in my belly.

But I need to put it aside. I have a long formal dinner to concentrate on. It is time to put on my most pleasant smile and pick daintily at my food. Good vessels do not stuff themselves and get all bloated.

Several small conversations begin, and the room is filled with the pleasant background hum of people talking. Felford starts conversing with one of his parents' work colleagues and I'm left alone with my food. And my thoughts.

Any appetite I had flees. My thoughts are fixating on tonight and I cannot pull them away. Cold sweat starts to trickle down my back. I'm being ridiculous.

Felford and I have conducted our engagement impeccably. He sent me a true phallus, and at the allotted and proper time, I used it. Proving to us both that I can take him.

He has felt me and I have felt him. Tonight is simply a formality. Yes, doing the deed for real will release my magic, but physically, practically, it should be no different than taking a dildo. A dildo proportioned to his exact measurements and magically connected to him.

Hastily, I reach for my glass of water. I can feel my treacherous cheeks heating and I cannot sit here blushing for no appreciable reason. I'll look like a crazy person.

I need to think about something else. Anything else. My old uncle is talking about tax reforms. I'll eavesdrop on that conversation. That will do.

It works for a little while, but then the butler slips a steaming cup of tea by my elbow and my heart goes crazy. Wedding night tea for a vessel. The smell of valerian root itches at my nose. Herbs that will relax me. Sedate me. Make me more willing to surrender my magic. Herbs that will act as an aphrodisiac.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Felford being served his tea. Tea for a husband. Herbs that will help him to perform.

I pick up my cup with shaking hands and gulp the hot tea down. I'm going to need all the help I can get.