A Prince Among Killers - By J. B. Redmond Page 0,116
Raaf in a headlock, with his big blue hand over Raaf’s mouth. Blath was there as well.
“At dawn?” she asked, directing the question to Snakekiller.
“Yes,” Snakekiller said, letting go of Aron and Stormbreaker. “And make sure the festivities last until after the bulk of the Judgment crowd arrives.”
Zed seemed to take that as a cue, and he took Raaf from Iko’s control and led the boy away, with Windblown following quietly behind. Blath and Snakekiller set off in a different direction, murmuring to each other as if they might be discussing what just happened.
Aron, Stormbreaker, and Iko stood for a time, until Iko inclined his head toward the stairwell. “With preparations for Judgment Day and now a wedding, the main kitchen will have a surplus of ale and roast tonight.”
Aron didn’t stop to wonder if the kitchens would serve them so late, and neither did Stormbreaker.
For once, Iko led the way instead of following, and Aron didn’t mind at all.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
DARI
How strange it was, to have traveled so far in body, mind, and heart that home seemed like a dream from someone else’s thoughts, and the words “family” and “people” had gained enough meanings to record on a long, rolled scroll.
Dari held out her arms for Blath to drape a Sabor wedding shawl across her shoulders and forearms and tried once more to grasp that today she would take a band-mate, a partner to stand beside her for the rest of her life. The reality of it made her breath come in flickers like the small torches in the sconces of the preparation tent near Triune’s east wall.
The shawl’s golden lace tickled her neck, stirring up a light musk of amberwood and heather from the lotions Blath had used to enhance the natural glow of Dari’s skin. Dari’s hair had been pulled back and oiled into hundreds of ringlets, then braided into a pattern as intricate as the shawl. Dari felt softer and more beautiful than ever in her life, yet infinitely stronger.
Blath finished the shawl’s draping, then stood back and folded her powerful blue arms. Her golden eyes appraised Dari, from the small silver diadem at her forehead with the Ross crest of the rising gryphon to the gauzy peridot gown Blath had borrowed from one of the sheltered. Dari’s feet and ankles were bare save for the false cheville at her left ankle, as both Fae and Fury tradition demanded, and she almost dug her toes into the soft dirt as she awaited Blath’s opinion.
“You look like your mother,” Blath said, her usually stoic voice thick with emotion. “A woman so beautiful and kind a dynast heir gave up his own heritage just to win a kiss.”
Heat suffused Dari’s limbs. “You exaggerate, but I love you for your kindness.”
Blath lifted her fingers and touched Dari’s cheek. “Nicandro Mab would choose you over his throne, if fate demanded it of him. I believe he would choose you over life itself.”
Dari closed her eyes.
Nic.
No matter how much this felt like a dream, Nic was more than real to her—and worth whatever sacrifices this union might ultimately require. If only Kate could be here with her today, standing beside her as her help-mate to witness this odd comingling of Fae traditions and Fury vows she and Nic had prepared for their joining. That would have made the day perfect.
As it was, Dari could ask for little else, so long as she kept war and battles from her mind.
Outside the tent, at the exact second predicted to mark the first moment of dawn, Triune’s bells began to ring in fast, joyous bursts. So close to the castle’s walls, the sound was near to deafening, and Dari felt each peal in her bones.
Blath walked solemnly to the nearest wall of the preparation tent and took down two torches. One she handed to Dari, and the other she kept for herself. Dari’s fingers closed on the rough-hewn wood, and the warmth of the flames near her cheeks made her smile.
As the bells went silent, Blath said, “Those camped in the valley to attend Judgment Day will be confused by the unusual ringing—and intrigued. This was a good plan, Dari. Your wedding will be well attended.” She held the tent flap aside for Dari to pass, and Dari slipped outside into the gradually lessening darkness.
Her grandfather was waiting for her, resplendent in his green ceremonial robes. The image of a golden gryphon had been stitched into the velvety cloth, and the design made his chest