11 | ACT I, SCENE XI

P R E V I O U S L Y

"All these years, you have been under my protection, my responsibility, and today..." he quietly inhaled, shaking his head, eyes full of sadness. "... Today I pass on the duty of your protection to another man."

TEMPLE OF THE GRACES, STEFFITH.

EDWINA

A CONGREGATION OF WHITE PEAKS glimmered in the afternoon light, dappled in gold. The land everywhere around was blanketed green, jade and kale. 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 lilies spilling from her gold spun hair.

The bridesmaids were dressed in gowns spun from silver shining like alabaster, gathered at the waist by braided sea grass. 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.

The structure was open, surrounded by six pillars carved with runes and sculptures from the Titanomachy. It was large enough for a couple hundred people, but the main reason for having the ceremony here were the statues of Uranus and Aurea. It was considered a blessing to finalize the ceremony before the Father and Mother of all immortals, including the Titans as well.

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

Everything was carved of white and gold. Purple wisteria, ropes of honeysuckle and ivy decorated the pillars. Green topiaries and blue and crimson banners were draped over the walls, 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. I let loose a string of curses as my heart almost stopped beating.

Damn it.

His dark hair was a ruffled mess again, literally inviting me to go and run my fingers through it. He stood proudly in fitting robes of dark blue and gold, sleeves slashed with bronze. The Valmont sigil was the golden lion on dark blue. Rondels carved in the shape of the magnificent beast sat on his shoulders. Their eyes were studded with gleaming sapphires, claws sharp and furious. The epaulets were linked across his strong shoulders with chains of gold.

Tristan Valmont looked like the true King he was.

He saw me. Those glorious eyes darkened as he raised an eyebrow. Slowly, inch by inch, his eyes raked down my body, drinking me in with the burning gaze. I felt my cheeks redden and his fists clenched as his gaze lingered near my throat.

I wanted to shout at him and vent my anger by throttling him as well. Oh, how I wanted to sink my knife into that throat. And shut those sinful, cruel lips for once and for all.

Those very lips pulled up in a smug smirk as his wide eyes continued to undress me, raking across my features.

God. My knees were going weak. Was this his way of punishing me? For calling his sister a whore?

I shouldn't have said that, I had long realized. My tongue always seemed to run away. And I'd have to guard it even more cautiously around this man. He was a very dangerous god.

His eyes twinkled with devilish intensity as we stood there for a moment, observing each other.

This was the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life. Would it really be that bad to marry him?

Of course it was, I told myself. Of course it was bad. I was doomed with this damned god for the rest of my existence.

• • • • •

TRISTAN

Cream and roses had never looked so good on anyone.

If us gods were truly real, then this goddess was their masterpiece.

Gorgeous and deadly.

She wasn't beautiful, no. Such a mediocre word could never do Edwina Tremayne justice. She was heavenly. She was breathtaking. She was perfection made flesh. She was haunting.

Haunting and hateful, that was what she was. I wondered how such a beautiful person could be so terrible.

She insulted Elodie.

Did she have no respect for the dead?

Those deep teal eyes were frozen, yet burning with longing at the same time like the fiery tendrils of her hair which were swept to one side of her swan-like neck.

My eyes drifted across her shoulders, sitting sublime under her crimson red Tremayne cloak, flowing to the porcelain tiles. Slowly, Edwina's cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and I felt it have the effect on me as my knees began to grow weak and my blood began to heat with desire.

She would have brought the Devil himself to his knee with her sheer beauty.

But then, she was the Devil.

The eyes danced with mirth, yet transfixed to my gaze, never breaking it. A corner of her crimson lips turned up in an enigmatic smile as I dared to take a breath, almost getting undone at the lovely fragrance of rose and blueberry surrounding her. Her skin gleamed like silk over glass, and I heard all the gods around the Temple sigh wistfully, yearning in their eyes.

And yet... did I really want her? After all she said to me? After all she said to me about my dead sister? In an instant, my temper turned black, and all I wanted was to get out of the damn Temple. I gritted my teeth, squaring my shoulders.

I would have to be nice.

• • • • •

EDWINA

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 High 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 apologize."

I glared at him.

A moment passed as we looked each other in the eye, defiant and stubborn and angry. It was obvious that neither of us wished to go through that, and I nearly said so to him, before remembering to keep my words in control. He said nothing, and I watched the angry features melt into a look of amusement, then glance away.

Together, we took a few steps, halting right in front of the likeliness of Uranus and Aurea 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 it," I muttered darkly under my breath.

"For starters, you could stop ogling at him," 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 irritably, 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.

"Oh, shut up, for god's sake. You're not a fun lot, none of you," 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 scrutinizing gaze.

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. 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, 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, as if he too understood my helplessness. 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.

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 realized I'd been biting my lip too hard.

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

I had never gotten the point of this ritual, the point of exchanging blood like rings.

Edwina sullenly pulled up my dark blue sleeve, fingering the Knife in her hand. The fire goddess met my eyes quietly in a questioning gaze.

Her eyes were so beautiful. Neither blue nor green, they were the hue of fresh salted teal, a color found only in the waves of the deepest oceans. Full of anger, they danced, yet even in anger, those deadly eyes awakened a frustrated ache and angry longing in me. Some part of me wanted to marry her just so that I could look into those lovely eyes of her everyday. Or feel her warm skin. To feel those rosy cheeks turn red.

Until, of course, I remembered whose daughter she was.

And yet, if looks could kill, she would be the last person standing in the three Realms.

Till she looked into the mirror.

I gave her a slight nod, and her head bent over my hand, as I braced myself. I had been injured with Bloodstone before. It was a thin scar near my shoulder, an injury I had received in the battle when the Valmonts and Tremaynes had fought over the river Derwentwater. It still seemed to burn at times. It was the worst kind of pain a person could imagine.

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, they 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 defense, 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?

In a matter of seconds, my mood turned from black to grey, and now, instead of being angry, I was upset. And a slight bit sad. I could not speak. I could not reply. I could not... I couldn't.

I looked into those storm blue eyes, and for the first time, I saw Tristan Valmont in a different light.

The man was miserable.

He glared right back at me, but only I was able to see the cold emotion welled up behind those angry blue eyes. Try as he might to hide whatever demons he fought, that was the moment I knew that he knew something. That he fought something. That he was haunted by something.

"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 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 center 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 under stood 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, symbolizing 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. The breeze ruffled his messy black hair, and I marveled again at how endearingly charming he looked... until, of course, he opened his mouth to speak. He ran a hand through his silk black hair, as if challenging me to feel it myself. I gritted my teeth to stop my hand reaching out as he lifted his arm and unclasped his cloak from his shoulders.

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.

My breathing changed and became even more erratic as the god of thunder slowly brushed aside my cascade of fiery red hair to one side of my neck. My heart began to thud like a drum, and my body heated as lust induced desire spilled into my veins when I felt his fingers slide over my skin. They lingered just a minute longer than usual near the back of my neck, and I gritted my teeth.

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.

Even that simple word felt so terrifying as I rolled it around my head. The cloak was still warm from the heat of his body, soft and luxurious. I smelled his scent on it, that masculine, husky scent that drove me insane and made my blood sing.

Our hands now dropped to our sides, but the deed was done now. There was no going back, my mind tried to make me accept. My eyes fell to the floor, then at Tristan through my lashes. He was shaking his head, as if trying to convince himself of something, and my cheeks were heated.

Llewellyn was beaming with a ridiculously large smile on his face, Eric was smiling as if someone had given him the largest present of his life. Eros was jumping on the balls of his feet, eyes shining with excitement, while Cosmo's eyes gleamed with maniacal excitement. My bridesmaids were trying very hard to suppress giggles as everyone around hid their admiring smiles among the claps.

Eros smiled angelically.

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

• • • • •

There. It is done! They are finally married now! No going back :P Next up, the coronation!