16

Wedlock

Iopted to get ready for tonight alone, remembering the quiet and bliss from my time with Niko.

Staring out the window as nightfall takes over the skies, I note the lake near the town reflecting the moonlight into my room. Lights lit in the village are visible from where I observe, dreading the rest of this evening approaching.

The only reprieve the Deities blessed me with was seeing Niko. Reuniting with him and forming a rescue mission was not what I planned, but somehow, through it all, I am filled with hope. I have replayed our time together over and over in my mind as the hours tick by, dragging me further into this nightmare.

With Niko trekking throughout Axidoria to call the banners, reaching out to King Bernard and Queen Verena for support and extra supplies and handling the Ulrik situation, I firmly believe that, by the end of this, my people will rejoice in having a king and queen together again.

Even though my heart aches for him, I need to do everything right on my end to ensure I find answers and learn about my magic.

A strong, short knock comes at the door.

Looking down at my dress, I wipe my sweaty palms on it, adjusting my features and putting on my regal smile. "Come in."

The door opens, and I turn, expecting Dorit, but am surprised to see a different face.

Jonas offers a tight smile, bowing. "Your Majesty, are you ready?"

He is dressed in warm, bold colors that match the reds and browns of my room, his jacket a dark burgundy lying on top of a cream-colored tunic. His pants and boots blend into one another in a chocolate brown. A sash drapes over his vest laced and adorned with jewels that complement the small crown resting on his head.

He wears royalty handsomely, knowing he is well outfitted for tonight.

"Right," I mutter to myself more than him, mentally preparing for what's to come.

As I turn, Jonas scans me appreciatively. "If I may, can I say you look radiant this evening?"

My cheeks redden, genuine shock from his compliment turning my insides into mush. Compliments are weird and unusual, yet his made my stomach somersault.

Jonas then takes a step forward, reaching down to help hold my train in one elbow while extending his other toward me. "Allow me."

I exhale in awe of his manners, almost forgetting he is an enemy. "Where were you when I was looking for a husband?"

Shit. Did I really just say that?

I squint my eyes closed in embarrassment. This is because he complimented me. I should have just bristled at his words.

Jonas laughs. "While I appreciate the honesty, I am afraid I'm not up for grabs."

His blunt confession draws my gaze, watching him adjust my train in his elbow.

"Care to expand on that?" I ask.

We make our exit from one physical prison and press onward, where I'll enter a legally binding one, too.

"Let's just say I enjoy my sex." Understanding lifts my brows as he continues, "I know it was not acceptable for a long time in Axidoria, which is why I was hesitant to mention it, but if we're family, you should know."

Appreciation for his transparency has me hopeful that my time here might not be bad. Maybe I'll work alongside him more than Jerrick.

"Thank you for sharing that with me. My lady-in-waiting in Axidoria, Betina, prefers all sexes." I hope Jonas catches my play on words, trying to appease and get to know my jailors.

He does, patting my arm in amusement, a gleeful laugh perking up his mood.

"I've tried hard since stepping into my role as queen to ensure everyone has the freedom to love whomever they wish. Axidoria's customs were old, abhorrent, and outdated anyway," I tell him.

We chuckle and stroll through a sleeping wing, venturing into a new hallway. The castle's walls are stained a cream color, matching the floor we walk upon.

Darker shades of red, orange, and brown in the décor mounted on the stone walls remind me of fall as the colors are intertwined and woven into rugs, paintings, lanterns, and curtains.

The drapery is tucked and tied together, allowing the tall arched windows to shine with the sun or moon.

The soft, plush rug unfurled beneath us is so full, my feet sink into each step in my thin-soled slippers. It is so soft I could sleep on it.

Jonas tilts his head before he speaks. "It wasn't acceptable in Palaena either under my father's rule, but Jerrick worked hard to create acceptance for everyone when he ascended."

We pass by some pictures of ancestors, dust collecting on the older ones, while the newer ones depict the strong features of Jerrick and Jonas.

A sense of evil prickles along my skin as I gaze at the painting of Jerrick.

Despite Jonas saying something nice about Jerrick, a darkness lingers in the shadows, making me feel even more wary of the man I am set to marry.

"I never would have expected him to do something nice for his people," I admit.

He snorts, almost missing the last step down the stairs, and we both stumble awkwardly, bumping into each other.

I grunt through our mishap, feeling the tightness of my injured shoulder.

Thankfully, we land on the ground in one piece. We pause, check my injury, and when Jonas inclines his head quietly, all worry and laughter masks his royal appearance.

He wears his manners well, escorting me as if our little stair-tripping never happened. "Jerrick might be complicated, but he does care."

I huff my disbelief, baffled to think Jerrick, a man who forced me to leave my home, cares about anyone other than himself. Sure, he helped make me comfortable when I was injured and on my cycle, but that was because I was a problem to him and our stupid marriage arrangement.

"You don't know, do you?" Jonas asks.

I flash him a skeptical look to give him reason to continue as we step farther down to the lower floors of the castle.

"Jerrick didn't leave your side the entire time you were unconscious."

That gives me pause, halting my steps and causing Jonas to do so as well.

Why would Jerrick do that? I'm only a means to prevent consequences from affecting him and his kingdom.

He has no reason beyond that to care.

When we met in Axidoria and I fainted, he was there when I woke up, too. He went out of his way to bring me medicine and even apologized for laughing over my cycle.

Doubt prickles an eerie composition in my mind from his actions at the ball versus when he kidnapped me.

I can't stop myself from asking, "Why did he do that?"

Jonas throws me a smirk, telling me he isn't speaking more on the topic.

Anxiety rushes into my bloodstream, gripping me and leaving me utterly confused. Jerrick is attractive, yes, and we are supposed to get married, but how will I be able to push through this relationship and make it seem realistic if I don't understand the person I'm tied to?

Deities, I wish this never happened. I wish I was with Niko, already married, and thriving in the bliss of being with someone I wanted.

A small slither of frustration stems up from my gut, a clanging of incorrect keys banging on a piano and making me bristle. The Deities, my mother, and fate play a never-ending game of torture with me.

I sigh through the vexation clawing and digging at my chest.

What did I do to be thrown into such chaos?

I grumble as Jonas and I approach dual wooden doors stretching up to the ceiling of the main floor.

He reaches forward, opening the door and allowing my sight to behold a magnificent courtyard.

A rush of air escapes my lungs at the beauty of it.

The sides of the courtyard have pillars holding up sections of the castle, creating shaded areas to sit and enjoy the beauty of the plants. Rose bushes and lilies line the pathways with tall neatly trimmed hedges filling the gaps between them.

There are other entrances to the courtyard down each pathway, telling me this is a main focal point of the Mikkelson castle.

At the center of the area stands a water fountain of a man holding a woman in a tender embrace. Water trickles down the statue as we come closer, and my heart pulls, the sculpture reflecting what I wish for most.

Jonas and I pass the water fountain where Jerrick, a few household guards, Dorit, and an Alorian priest stand.

Jerrick wears a dark-blue jacket sewn with pearls that match my gown. The sides of his trousers are embroidered with silver, tucked into black boots.

Jerrick and the priest are speaking too quietly to make out what they are saying, and Dorit stands nearby, still in her magenta dress, greeting Jonas and me with a sweet smile.

I give her a nod in greeting, and she returns it with a small curtsy.

Jerrick silently meets my gaze, and my breath catches at the contrast of his blue eyes to his deep navy ensemble.

I do not know if I will ever get used to his sharp features.

His eyes scan me from head to toe, and it sends a wave of trepidation through my system, praying I look alright.

Jerrick extends his hand.

I look at it, begging my inner strength to ground me for what I am about to do.

On my wedding day to Niko, I was a mess of emotions, worrying and pacing so much that Betina had to give it to me straight. I couldn't stop thinking about my parents or my sister, yet here I am with thoughts barely drifting to them.

Am I still in shock? Deities, what if this all goes to shit? What if this is all a trick and it's going to backfire?

Chills erupt across my skin, and I find myself gripping onto the safety of Jonas's elbow.

Jonas grabs my hand, squeezing it gently and leaning in to whisper, "It will be alright."

I clench my jaw, fearful of saying anything that could make my predicament worse.

Jonas unhooks my hand from his elbow and places it into Jerrick's, then removes the train of my gown, fanning it out across the pebbled ground.

Touching Jerrick burns at first, an odd sensation streaming up my arm and down to my core. I look at Jonas for reassurance and am met with an encouraging smile.

I swallow down my fears as I meet Jerrick's gaze once again.

It has been a week since we last saw each other, and my heart picks up speed in his presence. The man is wicked, awful, yet handsome and flirtatious.

My mind and my heart fight to remain disdainful of him, trying to not swoon at the fact he is better looking than I remember.

His eyes are a brighter blue this evening, contrasting with his scar and giving his features more symmetry. The grown-out stubble I remember when I woke up is trimmed away, and his shoulder-length black hair is tied half-back, combed neatly into place.

And his scent—Sweet Makers, it is better than I remember. It waves off him along with the arrogant smirk he wears.

And I know if I keep staring, he is going to say something that will piss me off.

It still doesn't prevent me from taking in his tall stature, dark thoughts shifting to what he would feel like hovering over me.

You should be thinking about Niko, Tove. Not this monster.

But as we stand there, hand in hand, staring at each other, I find myself wondering if he is worrying about what is going to happen after we are wed. The idea of us being alone should repulse me, and I seek the memories of my time with Niko for comfort.

But my mind drifts to when Jerrick kissed me. How soft his lips were and the tentative need behind the pressure of his touch.

Heat boils in my core, and I clench my thighs, trying to shut out the thoughts.

When the Alorian priest begins, Jerrick's dimple makes an appearance, and I pray to the Deities I am strong enough not to be affected any more by him.

Nerves erupt throughout my entire body as I try to pay attention to everything the priest is saying, but I am too distracted by the odd comfort of Jerrick's hand warming me, as if it will set me on fire.

I try to take in the courtyard again, observing the stars above sparkling in the deepened onyx night. The winter weather should be causing me to freeze over, but I am covered in sweat by everyone's gazes and Jerrick's touch.

The priest stops, guiding us to face each other before taking a step back.

Jerrick takes my hand, turning it upward as he withdraws the dagger from his belt, pointing the tip toward my palm.

Swallowing at the coldness of the blade, I brace for the pain.

"Just a little cut," he says.

The first words I've heard my future husband speak in a week, and they are soft and gentle in reassurance. They pull me from my fear, beckoning me to look into his eyes.

As the blade pierces my skin, I can't stop the cringe of pain across my features from the slash in my palm. The blood rises and Jerrick looks at the priest, waiting for his approval before speaking the vows of marriage.

When it is received, Jerrick's eyes melt into mine as his honeyed voice drowns my ears.

"To the Makers above, I vow and pledge in this bond of marriage to protect and devote my life to my wife. This I promise to Yeva, Letum, Aiyana, Alora, Anwir, and Leander, the creators of this world and the gifters of our magics. This I promise to you, my wife, Tove Clemmensen."

My name sounds rich and sweet coming from his mouth, better than being called Frostbite or Snow Queen.

I watch the blood pool in my now cupped hand as a soft cough breaks my daydream.

Offering the priest an apologetic look, I swallow down more fear as Jerrick offers me the dagger.

I take it into my shaking hands, my blood coating the hilt, ruining the glimmer reflecting off it. I bite my lip as I concentrate on his palm turned upward.

"Don't try anything, Frostbite," Jerrick says.

I expel my irritation; he thought I would hurt him before I even had considered it.

I make a smaller slash on his palm. Hating that I am repeating the words, I avert my gaze away from Jerrick's.

"To the Makers above, I vow and pledge in this bond of marriage to protect and devote my life to my husband. This, I promise to Yeva, Letum, Aiyana, Alora, Anwir, and Leander, the creators of this world and the gifters of our magics. This, I promise to you, my husband, Jerrick Mikkelson."

"Will you both join hands?" the priest asks.

Everyone's eyes drill into me as Jerrick answers, "I will join hands."

I am still examining the blood in Jerrick's palm as I repeat the words after him. "I will join hands."

Jerrick folds his hands over mine.

The priest turns to a table with a goblet and two crowns. He grabs the king's crown first, holding it with such tenderness as he pivots back.

Jerrick lowers his towering height so the priest may place it on his head.

The priest repeats his steps, and when I behold the queen's crown, my heart stops momentarily.

It is silver, like the king's crown, but adorned with bright blue jewels too pale to be considered sapphires. They are clustered in the center, surrounded by diamonds varying in size. This crown placed upon my head is so surreal I can't believe this is a wedding and a coronation.

The priest grabs the goblet, lowering his head and gesturing for us to each take a drink.

Jerrick offers it to me before helping himself, finalizing the marriage between Palaena and Axidoria.

The priest joyfully claps. "You are now bonded in marriage. All hail, King Jerrick and Queen Tove."

The guards stand to attention as Dorit and Jonas applaud from the sidelines, and I can't help the brief smirk along my lips as I watch them, knowing they didn't have to pretend to be excited.

Everyone here knows it is arranged.

I shake my head at their amusement and swivel back to Jerrick's hard lips suddenly on mine, sending my blood rushing to my cheeks.

He pulls away, leaving me in complete shock, and lust rests heavily deep in my core.

Fuck.

His eyes open, desire shining behind them.

I take a step away, stopping the tension at his proximity. I should not be feeling anything for this man—this monster. Exhaling and closing my eyes, I try to sear his kisses from my memory and replace them with thoughts of Niko.

Jonas runs up, touching my shoulder. "Welcome to the family, sis!"

Something about the way Jonas says that sends a wave of chills down my spine.

Politely, I thank him, then look for Dorit, only to see she is socializing with a few of the household guards.

I face Jerrick, who studies me cautiously.

He extends his elbow. "Are you ready, Frostbite, or is it too soon to call you wife?"

Both nicknames do nothing to improve my mood as disgust churns in my gut. I can't stop from hoping it might ruin his mood, too, knowing we are tied together and absolutely despise it.

Taking his arm, I lean in and offer a sweet, sardonic reply. "Only if you are, husband."