Ancient Things We Hold

Chapter 17

Dust and Ashes

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The palace in the capital was alive with whispers and exclamations alike in the middle of summer for, at the age of sixteen, Lady Faeryn had finally bled.

News of her flowering did not arrive until only three weeks before the King and his company were set arrive for a wedding at Carreg Llwyd. Therefore, it was decided the preparations for this occasion which had been hanging in the air for the past seven years would be finally brought down and put into action upon their arrival. After that, the wedding would be in another three weeks.

When Lady Faeryn arrived with the King and his people, she stepped from the carriage with such grace. Her ginger curls had matured into copper cascades that glinted against the golden leaves of the trees that surrounded the castle. She did well to hold up her head to illuminate this. She now had a woman's figure, voluptuous and full. It was clear that many of the men around her were struggling to stop gazing at her longingly. However, as anyone could tell by her eyes, that did not make her a woman. Perhaps physically she had matured, but she was still a child. Only sixteen.

As Aldwyn approached her to take her arm, She smiled at him  nervously. Any confidence they had gained with each other over that summer all those years ago seemed to have disappeared. The letters they sent one another did not seem real, or at least as though they counted as true correspondence. After all, they were just fabricated words. Now they were standing in front of each other with no distance or time protecting them.

"Hasn't she grown beautiful?" said the King proudly.

"Yes, your grace," Aldwyn replied obligingly.

Lord Daegel suddenly wished he could say the same for Aldwyn. He had always been a sweet looking thing, but handsome...no. His nose was crooked, his hair untidy despite the constant brushing, his figure not muscular and his skin pale. Furthermore, he always seemed to look so sad in such occasions. How did his eyes turn even darker?

Fortunately, nobody else seemed to notice this. Nobody else seemed to notice how on edge Aldwyn was the entire time, either. He touched Lady Faeryn so lightly as though he was looking for an excuse to pull away at any moment. He kept on looking over his shoulder. What was he expecting to see?

Aldwyn knew he had to tell his father soon, before any elaborate spending was made. In just the next two days, the servants at the castle doubled. Banners and flowers were strung up, while the blacksmith took to tending to Aldwyn's sword almost every day to ensure it looked perfect when he exchanged it with Lady Faeryn's ancestral sword during the ceremony. Much to Lord Daegel's surprise, the sword was well used despite him hardly picking it up since he was a child. Mercia still snuck down each night to practise.

Aldwyn was measured and scrubbed to an inch of his life. Lord Daegel had called for the finest tailor to make him a grand new set of wedding garments, then for a barber with steady hands to cut his hair short again. He bathed almost every change of sun and was told to practice his vows.

He felt so guilty for doing all of this. Every now and then, his mind wondered over to the thought that perhaps he should just marry Lady Faeryn. It would be easier for almost everyone that way. But look at Hodaya's eyes, he thought, she loves you and you love her. Not only that, he had made an oath. No such ardent promise was given to the King from him, only his father.

He would marry Hodaya. Now with less than three weeks left, it had to be then. That morning when he woke up to his thousandth bath, he decided he would tell his father at lunch. Neither the king or his father had used much money from the treasury yet and he was sure they could return much of what they had already purchased. Perhaps he could even payback one day for the money he had wasted. Furthermore, it was better that his father had time to prepare in telling the King.