40. James

40

JAMES

I t was the day of my wedding, and I was excited. It wasn't a state I would have thought was possible for me only a few weeks back. It is amazing how quickly things can change, especially when the person you love has returned from the dead.

My life had taken an extraordinary turn, heading in a slightly different direction than I had anticipated, but I couldn't have asked for a better outcome.

There was so much to celebrate.

The wedding was set to take place in the main garden in an hour, and as custom dictated, my mother was attending to Adina, and my father had come to help me into my elaborate sherwani. The fabric was white and red, the colors of Londabad, and embroidered with gold. The buttons were also solid gold, and for a moment, standing in front of my father as he did up the front of my wedding coat, I felt for the first time that the gold I wore meant something. It was meant to commemorate this important occasion, a moment in my life that would never be duplicated.

I almost asked my father how he had felt when he was getting ready to marry my mother, but it was clear that he disapproved of my chosen bride. He wasn't making eye contact with me at all and hadn't said a word beyond, "It's time to get ready, my son." As he helped fix my turban in place, I tried to meet his gaze, but every time I got close, his eyes slid away again.

It was disappointing that when I was willing to let go of the hurts of the past and celebrate a new beginning, he was clinging to his grudge and refusing to step up to the occasion.

His only son was getting married today. He could have at least pretended to be happy for me.

Something ran over my foot. I frowned and looked down, only to see a swift-moving lookout grab the golden pin that would fix my turban into place and bring it over to my father. I'd never seen this type of lookout before. It didn't have much in common with Adina's, more with spike than tentacles, but it moved twice as fast.

"Where did that come from?"

"Jeffry introduced them into the palace this morning," my father said dully.

"Why?"

"Additional security measures." With my turban fixed, my father stepped back quickly as though he couldn't wait to get his hands off me.

Were those hands trembling?

What was going on?

"We wouldn't want you and your bride to be in any danger, after all."

"Why would we be in danger in the palace?" I asked, taking a step toward my father. He stepped back. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He shook his head.

"I don't believe you. You're not acting like yourself," I said as diplomatically as I could.

"Mere fatigue, my son." He gave me a faint smile, and this time, when I glimpsed his eyes, I could see they looked slightly glassy. "It's been a lot of work organizing a wedding on such short notice. I'm disturbed by the fact that the storm has prevented us from contacting Edinbai and seeking formal permission from Princess Aramar's father, yet it is what it is. I will not stand in the way any longer."

"Thank you," I said a trifle uncertainly.

"Come now." He led me out of my rooms, and I followed him to the garden.

Because of the speediness of the wedding and the lack of involvement from Adina—Princess Aramar's—family, we weren't doing many of the traditional wedding celebrations. There was no mehndi ceremony, no sangeet, and no giving away of the bride by her father. There was a traditional altar at the head of the garden, though, filled with guests from the peerage. Most were looking on with barely concealed curiosity, and a few with thinly veiled hostility.

I joined my father at the altar and was disconcerted to find Jeffry close behind us.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered to him.

"How could I miss the wedding of my beloved cousin's son?" he replied smoothly. His hand, I noticed, had gone straight to my father's back as if he was propping him up. "Don't worry, I won't cause you any trouble. Your wedding will be a joyous occasion."

It had better be. I didn't trust Jeffry as far as I could throw him, but a moment later the music began announcing Adina's entrance, and when I saw her, I couldn't look away.

She wore a rich red sari, also embroidered with gold, and I wondered if my mother had gotten married in that same gown.

Despite the semi-sheer veil and the illusion of Aramar's face underneath it, I could see the joy in Adina's' eyes. They were still hers, large and light and expressive, and when she looked at me like I was everything to her, I felt the same light come to mine.

I love you. We're so lucky.

My mother followed, resplendent in a turquoise sari and radiating happiness.

I was barely able to follow the ceremony, honestly. We went through the motions, offering rice to the fire and exchanging flower garlands, but I only had eyes for Adina. When we exchanged rings and my father pronounced us husband and wife, it was all I could do not to grab her then and there and kiss the breath out of her, but I had to wait until we were alone.

Nothing could dim the pleasure of this moment and the ecstasy I felt just holding her hands. I was married to the woman I loved, and nothing would separate us from here on out.

When we turned to face our guests and their raucous applause, I was grinning like a fool.

"I love you," I whispered to Adina.

She smiled up at me, and for a moment, I thought I could see her real smile shining through her genie's hologram. "I love you too."

Then came the feast and the dancing.

Adina had set her mobile projectors to dance among the crowd, to tease people and make them laugh. They even performed a coordinated performance worthy of the best of my mother's theater days.

It was all a delightful blur, but to be honest, I couldn't wait until the moment when she and I were finally alone in my suite once more—this time, without the cameras operating. That was a condition of my marriage, one my mother had agreed to instantly and my father had eventually come around to.

"Are they off?" Adina asked as soon as the door was locked behind us.

I thought she was talking to me at first, but then Gene said, "All surveillance systems within these rooms are currently inactive."

"Perfect," she purred, detaching the stiff necklace she wore and handing it to her suddenly visible lookout before tearing her veil off and throwing herself into my arms.

My veil was already off, and as I held her close, I was free to devour her mouth. I felt like I was drunk, delirious on happiness. We had done it. Against all odds, we were married now.

The thrill of being with the person I loved, with my parents' blessing, made the moment even sweeter. I buried one hand in her hair as the other wrapped around her body, drawing her closer. Then I?—

"Ow, shit."

Adina pulled back. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I punctured my finger on one of your hairpins," I said sheepishly as I shook my hand.

She started to laugh. "It's not that funny."

"It's a little funny," she said. "We'd better get undressed before we kill each other with our clothes." She reached up to my head and delicately freed the long golden pin from my turban, then set both aside. "You look very handsome in this sherwani," she murmured, her pupils large and dark as she stared at me. "But I think you'll look even better out of it."