A Queen Named Victory

Chapter Eighteen

Dimming sunlight prepared Montver for a pleasant evening. "Easy girl," I whispered to Heidrun. She detested the clanking sound the wheel ruts made behind us. Glittering fires in the distance directed us to the center of Montver's largest market, which they decorated for the newly elected mage's first debut.

"You and your wolves," Grendel remarked with his eyes lingering on my uncovered abdomen. I brushed my fingertips against my skin, admiring the bold design.

"If I remember correctly, you often ran on all four limbs like them."

"As most children do," I defended myself poorly. Half of the blame belonged to my mother for encouraging silly behavior. She often howled at the stars or growled at chattering lemmings. We quickly grew out of the habit after her passing.

"It fits you," he complimented. "I wear it proudly."

"It's easy to forget you even have the same markings."

"Give me the command, and I'll disrobe for your eyes' pleasure," he winked.

I responded with a playful scoff to his jests before I broke from the formation to ride parallel to the topless carriage. Sabre and Ochre sat together in light conversation.

"Are you sure you'll be comfortable, Ochre?" I asked.

She nodded, "I think I-I'll be ok. It will be q-quick. Right?" Ochre turned for confirmation from Sabre, who nodded too.

"If at any moment you feel uncomfortable, give me the signal."

I left them to their conversation to rejoin Grendel at the front of the line. Marching guards and drummers walked between us, preparing for the grand entrance into the market. Montver's black flags whipped in the breeze.

"Give it two months or so," Grendel said aloud as I joined his side.

"Huh?"

"They'll have a marriage contract in need of your signature," he repeated confidently.

Sabre flashed a smile at Ochre's nervous rambling. How did I miss it? Her sudden confidence improved twofold as they spent more time together. Ocher held onto Saber's arm for support as the carriage shook violently.

"How did you recognize that before me?" I asked, starstruck by their fondness for one another and partially shamed that it took so long for me to see. Both women matched each of their strengths to their weaknesses. Ochre emitted love and warmth while Sabre tethered herself to logic and had enough self-confidence for both of them.

So much for being the patron of marriage.

"What can I say? I'm a hopeless romantic," he replied.

Drummers began their procession as we neared stone columns at the market's entrance. Cheering crowds clapped and hooted at our arrival. Townsfolk adorned their finest celebratory clothes, some of which were finer than my outfit. Married women bared their upper bodies proudly with polished blades tied to their hips. Pregnant women stood with swollen bellies, revealing painted imitations of my mark over their stretch marks. The sight alone nearly took my breath away, and my ego matched my husband's.

Montverians tossed flower petals onto the floor us as we made our way through the winding market. Children giggled, men whooped, and women cheered. Shimmering banners swayed along the edges of straw roofs. Magical torches emulated the colors moldavite crystals, creating a lively environment for our festivities. Grendel lifted my hand with his and showed our unwavering unity.

Towards the end of our trail, Ochre stood before the crowd in the carriage. Golden light poured from her skin, forming whirlwinds in the center of the market. Her magic grew a tree from the earth. Sparkling lights traveled up the small vines as they transformed into sturdy trunks. The last of her magic rippled into the dirt, revealing the fully grown centerpiece. Interwoven trunks linked four different fruit-bearing trees: apples, pears, plums, and cherries. Its center branches conjoined to form the ring of wolves, flowers, and wheat spikes.