Heavenly Matrimony

EDWINA

A congregation of white peaks glimmered in the afternoon light, dappled in gold. Scarlet roses and cream lilies swayed in the light breeze, quite unlike my heart which was thudding shock still at the bottom of my chest as we walked our way to the Temple.

I heard Amphitrite whisper something behind me, as the bridal party walked through the grass and stone. My father's grip on my arm tightened as I turned around.

"What?" I snapped.

"You need to smile!" she chided, eliciting encouraging nods from Vanessa, who was triumphantly marching with bouquets of lilies spilling from her gold spun hair.

I grimaced, turning my eyes back to the path, where the golden spires of the Temple were shining in the afternoon. A fake smile plastered itself on my red lips, but the corners pulled down as if of their own accord, and I gave up trying.

The Temple came closer and closer in view, as did the people in it, all the gods and goddesses turning around, excitedly chattering and pointing at us.

We stopped, standing at the base of the steps cut of white marble, as I looked up.

Everything was carved of white and gold. Green topiaries and blue and crimson banners draped over, and golden bells chimed in the wind.

Eros, Cosmo and Titania were standing right there to greet the Tremayne party. I saw the rest of the Valmonts grouped around there as well.

The last man, with messy hair as dark as quiet beginnings of black ink, turned around to face me. I let loose a string of curses as my heart almost stopped beating.

We began to climb the marble steps, but I gripped my father's hand like pincers, preferring to look at my feet rather than at my soon-to-be husband, who was making me blush with just a look when all I wanted to do was kill him and his cursed father.

Everyone halted behind us.

"Who comes here to be wed in sight of gods and men today?" Eros asked with a warm smile.

"Edwina of House Tremayne, Princess of Dracnesse and soon to be Queen Regnant of Endollon," my father answered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

"Who comes here to give her away?"

"Lucius of House Tremayne, Lord of Dracnesse," he replied.

"Who comes here to wed her?"

"Tristan of House Valmont, King of Stormholt, Lord of the Skies, and soon to be King of Endollon."

"Is there any here with objection to this union? Speak now, or forever hold your peace," Eros spoke with a sense of finality, rolling up his light blue sleeves.

I clenched my lips tight, biting down hard with my teeth to prevent myself from screaming 'no.' I had to hold my peace. It was physically the hardest thing I had ever done in my life.

No one made a sound except for the doves in the sky.

My father looked at me for a final time, eyes concerned. I miserably gave him an imperceptible nod.

"None," he answered.

"None," Eros confirmed with a mischievous smile, giving him a silent nod.

That was the cue.

My father quietly disentangled my arm from his, taking my hand and placing it in Tristan's outstretched palm.

I had never touched him this way before, but lord, did I feel the world rush through my veins when our hands made contact. I felt myself go dizzy at his touch, feeling his blood surge under his skin, alive and singing.

"Behave," I heard Amphitrite chide me.

"Shut up!" I nearly screamed.

Tristan turned to me, raising a dark eyebrow. His expression was queer and unreadable, enticing eyes distant and cold.

"Lady Tremayne," he said, "you look radiant today." His voice was clipped and strained, trying to hold back his dreadful temper, and every word he spat out was forced, brusque and harsh. "This vision will haunt my dreams."

"Good to know that you make me sound like a nightmare, my Lord Valmont," I hissed vehemently.

"If I may, I wish to apolo-"

"-no, you may not!" I snapped, glaring him in the eye. A moment passed as we looked at each other in the eye, defiant and stubborn and angry.

Together, we took a few steps, halting right in front of the statues carved in white marble and gold.

There was barely two inches separating us. His shoulders lightly brushed mine as my breath hitched again. He smelt of wild musk, cinnamon and the burnt sugar of red wine.

Oh god. Save me before I do something stupid.

Like reaching over and kissing him.

Eros's silver bow gleamed, swung over his bronzed shoulders. He handed over his bow to his son, Eric with a naughty grin in his eyes. Eric looked at me apologetically, trying not to smile, then failed, happy and resplendent in his grey smoked robes. I shot him a murderous scowl.

"Stop trying to mimic a smug baboon," I said from the corner of my mouth, trying not to sound too loud.

"Well, you could stop acting as if you've swallowed a sea slug," he laughed mockingly, hearty and hale, as Amphitrite simpered beside him. Before I could speak, Eros interrupted me with a disappointed tap on my bare shoulders.

"We shall now begin with the Blood Ritual, Lady Tremayne. Is there a problem?" he asked.

"Not at all," I said acidly, as Eros and his son, Eric, exchanged a humorous look. Well, it would have been humorous if Eros hadn't been glaring seductively at a woman, and failing, met eyes with Eric. It looked as if they were flirting.

"Perhaps you'd like me to hit you both with my love tipped arrows?" he snickered in an aside to me. "You won't know what hit you."

"I'm pretty sure that setting up procreational activities between newlyweds is not part of your resume. Or is it?" I yawned irritated, looking at his cherubic face, which was making his best efforts to melt my icy exterior.

"There will be plenty of time later for you both to pursue your flair for dramatics. I didn't know you had a thing for acting. Can you just get on with it?" Tristan hissed from beside the three of us, raising his dark eyebrow and taking a deep breath.

"No one is acting," Eric protested.

"Sure,"the sky god said with a roll of his enticing, angry, blue eyes.

Eros pouted prettily, smoothing back his airy golden curls and holding out his hands, raising his voice. "I need the Bloodstone knife for the Blood Ritual. Who has it?"

"Here," Cosmo said from behind, passing it over with a careful, measured look on his face as he regarded Eros. Beside him, Titania was decidedly more interested in the floor.

Eros nodded happily, clapping his hands like a small boy, and took the knife. It was slim and slender, all coal black, and made of Bloodstone.

"Now," he said, "as Lady Tremayne and Lord Valmont are to become King and Queen of Endollon tonight, they will be taking a Blood Oath on their wedding day. They will both cut a vein in each other's wrist, which will be held together for a moment. After released, both of their blood will flow in each other's veins, binding them together for eternity. And, of course, after marriage, they will be able to communicate mentally, as all immortal couples do."

Yes, it felt wonderful to be under everyone's scrutinising gaze, being regarded like a slave on sale.

Tristan would make the cut with his right on my left hand, and I'd have to do the same with my right to his left hand. And yet, it was Bloodstone, for crying out loud! My resolve came into question again as I thought about the mark that would be left on my wrist that would never, ever, fade with any amount of time.

"Ready?" Eros asked cheerfully, playing about with the dangerous knife, grey eyes innocently playful.

"I really appreciate the way you make it sound as if I have a choice," Tristan snapped vehemently, holding out an angry, white hand.

Eros happily stuck out his tongue to him, passing the knife over to Tristan and lifting my palm. Tristan took my hand and the Knife, Eros gripped it reassuringly with both of his. Yet his grip was firm, where Valmont's was gentler. My hand paled in the light, veins pulsating wildly in a last attempt to escape brutal sacrifice.

Tristan wordlessly turned over my wrist, my white, vulnerable flesh bare in the midday light filtering into the Temple.

How was it that my breath caught in my throat and I forgot to breathe when I felt his electric touch on me?

Traceries of blue vein mapped the inside of my inner arm, carrying blood to my heart. My knees buckled. His long fingers softly treaded my skin, looking for a vein. They finally stopped, hovering, at a spot near the bottom of my right wrist. The blood would flow the thinnest there.

For just the smallest second, we looked into each other's eyes. Gazes livid, anger seething, expressions poisonous. Then he carefully lowered the Knife and it met my skin.

My lips clenched tightly, sealed, but I could not help but wince as the tip pierced my skin. I had never suffered a Bloodstone injury in my life. A white-hot flame shot up as the vein severed, and for a moment, it numbed, then flared up again. Warm blood flowed, and there was a metallic taste in my mouth when I realised, I'd been biting my lip too hard.1

Careful not to cut too deep, he finished what he was doing, tracing a thin line across my wrist.

My blood dripped to the Temple floor from the thin line, staining the white marble with crimson. There was dead silence in the Temple, but all the guests were quietly watching the brutal ritual with lips sealed shut.

Eros's hands left mine as they reached out to hold his. Tentatively, I tugged up Tristan's sleeve, feeling the fair skin there and he offered the Knife to me with a quiet sigh, hilt first.

• • • • •

TRISTAN

Edwina felt for the spot on my left hand, and her shoulders heaved as she broke the skin. Sharp, searing, familiar pain stung the skin as the grip of fingers on my hand tightened. The pain didn't stop, though.

Blood drained my veins as the Knife left her hand, and before I knew it, Eros clasped our hands together, the raw skin in direct contact with the other's. We both flinched in surprised pain and a thin strip of satin crisscrossed and knotted around our wrists.

"Do you, Tristan Valmont, take Edwina Tremayne to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Memories crossed my mind again.

Memories, that cut like knives.

"Tristan, please!" Elodie had cried, drowning in a pool of red. "Please... please, brother!"

My throat clenched as my brain insisted on dragging out the sadness, prolonging it, tightening around my heart, as I tried to break free of the torture. For years, she had haunted me every night, and even now, I could not shake it off.

"Please. For me!" Elodie had pleaded, begging me.

The words refused to leave my lips, but I forced them out, my voice clipped and strained.

"By the same blood that now flows in both our veins, yes, I take this woman to be my lawfully wedded wife."

• • • • •

EDWINA

"Do you, Edwina Tremayne, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

I paused, and a slight tremble ran up my spine.

The hall waited with bated breath. Say it, the eyes burning into me seemed to say. Say it.

My mother's voice kept on flashing through my head, over and over. My little phoenix, she used to call me. My little baby. I love you, my little girl, she would smile, ruffling my hair fondly and kissing my head as I excitedly jumped about. She had been such a woman, a sweet, loving mother, and now she was not here.

She would not have wanted me to lose my head and run off at the last minute. I was to be Queen. Queens made sacrifices. And if I was going to make sacrifices, I sure as hell didn't want them to go to waste.

"By the same blood that now flows in both our veins, yes, I take this man to be my lawfully wedded husband," I spat out, my voice shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Eros tightened the knot of satin around our injured wrists, face happy and alight with the satisfaction of a thing well done.

"Look upon each other and say the words," he asked.

Now resigned to our fate, helpless and miserable, Tristan Valmont and I met each other's eyes in full for the first time. Our lips opened, and not two voices came out, but one, melded dulcet and melodious soprano rolled into one.

"I make this solemn promise to you," I began. "To be your lover when you need to be loved, to be your healer when you are ill, to be your army when you go to war, to be your shield when you need defence, to be your ear when no one will listen, to be your comfort when you feel pain."

I paused, so did Tristan, and he crooked an eyebrow as I sharply inhaled. He patiently waited for me to say my part, and I hoped the words wouldn't fly out of my throbbing head.

"I, Edwina Tremayne, pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry out in the night, and the eyes which I smile into in the morning," I swore. "I pledge to you the first bite from my meat, and the first drink from my cup. I pledge to you my living and dying, both equally in your care."

A sigh of relief escaped my lips and I bit them.

"I, Tristan Valmont, take you, Edwina Tremayne, to be my wife, my companion, my equal, my Queen. I promise you all of me, from the earth under my feet and the blood flowing in my heart. I promise to never break faith with you. I pledge to you my heart, and all of my love. As long as I have a voice, I will never stop telling you how much I love you."

Silence.

I was confounded, struck dumb.

Was the ill-tempered god a bloody poet?

"God damn it, Tremayne," he muttered in a soft hiss, and I watched his sensuous lips and his carved white jaw, fascinated, as desire ripped through me once more. "Can't you say something clever?" he snapped suddenly, before going off into a long litany on intolerable lunatics. "You can't be stupid enough to believe what I just said," he muttered.

In a moment, his queer expression vanished like smoke and I gulped, shoving down the huge wad of feeling stuck in my throat.

"I'm sorry I didn't catch what you said. I don't speak idiot like you," I retorted smugly.

"Excellent, excellent," Eros grinned, happily untying the thin strip around our wrists. "Ah, the rings please..."

It was bloody, yet our twin scars had now healed, now lines of pinkish skin.

Llewellyn was at his brother's side, pulling out a box from the inner folds of his robe. He gave me a smile, which I could not return. Tristan opened the box with a sullen scowl, and took out the ring, refusing to meet my eyes as he slid it down my finger.

"I pledge to you my living and dying, both equally in your care," he finished in a clipped voice, then stepped back.

The ring was delicate, made of platinum and gold. In the centre sat a large diamond paved in a cushion cut, along with smaller ones that were sprinkled along its length. The diamond ropes twined around the band like vines, twinkling prettily in the light.

It was so beautiful and elegant!

I said nothing, wordlessly took a similar box from Amphitrite standing beside me. Opening the box, I handed it back to my sister after extracting the ring from it and proceeded to set it on his fourth finger.

"I vow to love you through all of eternity," I blurted out in a strangled voice, sliding the wedding ring down Tristan's finger. I watched it gleam for a moment on his white skin, before he clenched his fist taut and the veins understood out.

"Very good, ah," Eros said delightedly, grinning. "Now... you can dispose the bride of her cloak, Lord Tremayne."

It was an ancient wedding tradition. Noble brides approached the altar wearing a cloak elaborately embroidered with the sigil of her maiden House. After the exchanging of vows, the father was supposed to remove the cloak, symbolising that the bride was no longer under his protection. Then, the groom was supposed to welcome his bride into his House and accept his role as her protector by draping his cloak on her shoulders.

"Of course," I heard my father murmur, and I heard a man's footsteps behind me. I heard his quiet sigh rake on my hypersensitive nerves. His warm hands were at the back of my shoulder, unclasping the cloak. I felt the sense of warmth and security lift as the cool air once again lashed against my skin, the strings of gold sitting atop my shoulders.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection," Eros said to Tristan, who silently nodded.

The dangerously handsome god waited a second.

It was a royal, ultramarine blue, the velvet throwing the fabric into hundreds of different hues. The embroidery was in golden thread, sewn minutes and sprinkled with heavy sapphires at the bottom. At the back, was embellished the regal Valmont lion in gold, fierce and deadly.

"Turn around," Tristan whispered in a dangerously soft and powerful voice, heavy with promise. Rolling my eyes, I spun a half circle, presenting my back to him. Even though I could hardly see him now, I was too aware of his desirous presence behind me.

I felt Tristan settle the heavy blue cloak on my shoulders and fix the clasps quietly, his long fingers working their way and settling it over me.

Then he stepped back, regarding me triumphantly, with his Valmont cloak on my shoulders, like a flag on a conquered fortress.

There.

It was done.

With that simple, significant action, he'd done it.

He'd claimed me.

I was his now. Married to him. Claimed by him. Bonded to him.

His.

Eros smiled.

"Tristan Valmont and Edwina Tremayne, I now proclaim you man and wife."