The King's Spinster Bride, (Royal Wedding #1)(10)

He can do better. I know I have a pleasing face and I am well-versed in courtly manners, but so are a dozen other princesses half my age that would be thrilled to have such a handsome man as their husband. It does not matter that he is cyclops. Their ways are strange, but they are a strong tribe and devoted to the gods. There are worse choices to make, in my eyes.

I want to say yes…but I am terrified of what happens next. For the first time in sixteen years, I will leave the walls of Riekki’s quiet temple and re-enter the world as Princess Halla of Yshrem. I will be betrothed to the man who conquered my kingdom and whose father killed my father on the field of battle. I will return with him to Yshrem, and then we will begin the marriage ceremony.

Three days, he said. Three ceremonies.

The Revealing of the Bride, where I will be stripped naked before the entire court. I break out into a cold sweat at the very thought. Even if I were in my prime marriageable years, I would be horrified at the thought. But it is a tradition, and it does not sound like Mathior will bend on such a request.

Of course, then there will be the Tasting of the Bride, which makes me even more nervous. He will put his mouth on me in front of a witness. I cannot imagine the reasoning behind such a thing, but I am both titillated and terrified of that.

The marriage bed itself almost seems like an afterthought. If I can get through day one and two of the wedding ceremony without fleeing, surely joining with my new husband will be a simple task.

Simple. Ha.





6





MATHIOR



When I return to the temple the next morning, I am as jittery as an unblooded warrior awaiting his first battle. Last night, I was certain that Halla would say yes to my demands. That no matter how she felt about me, she would give herself in marriage for Yshrem. But as the morning dawned, my certainty disappeared. Halla has never let anyone push her into anything. Even when her life was at stake, she remained firm and steadfast. It’s one of the things I like so much about her.

If she does not wish to marry me, there is nothing I can say or do to convince her. I am king, of course. First Warrior of all the cyclops tribes and ruler of Yshrem and Alassia. If I demanded it, she would not be able to turn me down. But I want her in my bed of her own free will, not because I have forced her there. I do not mind a shy bride.

I am no rapist to force a woman to my bed, though. If she says no, it will be no. No matter how badly I want her.

And I do want her quite badly.

Sixteen years had passed since I saw her last. I wondered if she had grown old and withered, or if my child’s mind had made her out to be more graceful and beautiful than she truly was. Even the drab clothing and braids of Riekki’s peacekeepers could not hide her loveliness, though. She is just as I remembered—her face a beautiful oval dominated by wide, long-lashed eyes and a full pink mouth. Her body is more womanly than I remember, her breasts straining against the fabric of the gray robe. Her face is unlined and sweet, and she looks as untouched as she was over sixteen years ago.

No, I am not displeased with my choice to marry her. I wonder if she is displeased with me, though. I am burned brown by days in the sun, unlike the scholarly men of her country. I have battle scars of many fights, and I gave my left eye to the god years ago. I am very different from the boy she remembers. Her eyes went wide when she realized who I was, but she did not retreat, and that pleased me.

I hope she shows such fearlessness again today.

I stride into the temple the next morning, my cloak of office heavy around my shoulders. I have been told that Halla will see me in the courtyard once more, so I made my warriors wait outside. If Halla is shy or has questions, I want her to ask them freely.

Mostly I just want to kiss her again. Perhaps she will let me if others are not staring us down.

When I enter the courtyard, she is there, waiting. This time she has no naughty book in her lap, her hands clasped there instead. Her braids are carefully arranged over her shoulders and her expression is calm, her poise regal. She looks every bit the queen she was, despite the dull gray of her clothing. Her cheeks go pink at the sight of me, and I cannot stop grinning to myself.

She will say yes. That blush tells me everything.

I sit down across from her, in the empty chair that has been pulled next to hers. She does not fidget, my bride-to-be. She watches me calmly, her expression serene.

“Have you decided?” I ask, my words bald. I see no point in dancing around the reason for my visit.

Her cheeks pink again. “You can do better than me, my lord.”

“Better?” I echo. “Better at what?”

Halla’s flush deepens. “You know what I mean. Younger. Prettier. With more land or money. I have nothing anymore, my lord, not even a throne. I come to you with nothing but the robe on my back, and even that is given to me by the grace of the peacekeepers.”

“Ah.” I lean forward and take her hand in mine. She looks startled, but I do not let her go. “So you think I am choosing poorly for my bride.”

She hesitates.

“Will it help if I tell you that ever since I became a man, it was the memory of your face I stroked my cock to when I lay in my bed at night?” I hear her sudden intake of breath and the shocked look on her face, but I don’t let go of her hand. “Will it ease your fears to know it is you I have always wanted?”

Halla’s mouth works silently, that pink softness just begging for another kiss. I want to lean in and taste her again, but she speaks before I can. “I am old, Mathior.”