Crystal Crowned [ARC] (31 page)

“It was here, upon this spot, where our last Emperor married our princess, my sister,” Lord Ophain began his opening remarks, addressing the crowd. “The West lives in the blood of the Empire, and our Emperor is one of our own. And, while unjoyful events have led him to being our Emperor so young, the circumstances of this world have seen him to our most sacred of halls for yet another Imperial union.

“I have long since born witness to the lines that connect our Emperor, Aldrik Ci’Dan Solaris, with the Lady Vhalla Yarl.” Lord Ophain’s focus rested upon them, and only them. He produced a scroll from his jacket pocket for emphasis. “It is with the blessing of the West, East, and North that this union will be the foundation upon which a harmonious Solaris Empire may be rebuilt.”

Vhalla followed the direction of Lord Ophain’s nod. Za and Sehra returned the motion.
They had made it
. The acknowledgement wasn’t lost on the other nobles in the room, and Vhalla contained a sigh of relief.

“Eons ago,” the head Crone began to speak, “the Father lived in a land of eternal night. It was in that darkness that he met the Mother. She was a brilliant star, a point of light that cut through the night like a sword of law and order. It was with her dazzling radiance that she brought the day.”

The Crone raised her wrinkled hands, and the fires that hovered above burned even brighter.

“The Mother could not live with the Father in that world of night, and he could not live in her world of day.” The Crone dropped her hands and motioned to the stone floor beneath them. “So they began to spin in an eternal dance, one where they could look upon each other from the beginning and until the end of days. In this dance, their children were born, and the first men walked upon the new earth.

“The Mother watches over our lives, bringing us life and joy. The Father watches over our timelessness, seeing us safely into the lands beyond.” The Crone produced a long red ribbon from within her sleeve. “From our births to our deaths, we are bound to the plans which they have laid. We walk the red lines they have given us.”

Vhalla resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. She wondered what the Crone would say to someone who had changed their fate. Or if the very notion that fates could even be changed would be blasphemous. Vhalla wondered if, perhaps, just perhaps, Vi had been wrong from the start. If every last thing had been as Ophain said, the red lines of fate that the Mother had laid.
After all, who could change things, like time and fate and futures, other than the Mother herself?

“By this, it is not for us to question those who are called to each other, just as it is no more our place to question those called to greatness. To do so would be an affront to the divine.” The Crone’s voice was powerful in its frailty. “From the highest nobility to the lowest of common, we are no different from each other in the Mother’s eyes. We are all threads in the same great weave.”

The Crone stepped forward. With gnarled fingers, purple veins spider webbing under the thin skin of their backs, she wrapped the red ribbon around Vhalla and Aldrik’s outstretched hands.

“Vhalla Yarl.” The faceless Crone turned to her. “May the Mother bless you with the greatness of her warmth.” She wrapped the ribbon again and turned to Aldrik. “Aldrik Ci’Dan Solaris, may the Father bless you with his resolution.”

The Crone carried on in this manner, binding their hands after every blessing. The Mother was to give Vhalla beauty, kindness, and many heirs. The Father was to give Aldrik strength, determination, and foresight. Vhalla had the distinct feeling that he was getting the better end of the bargain, but she held her tongue. They’d practiced the ceremony enough times that she knew every stage of what was coming.

“Vhalla Yarl, what do you pledge to your Emperor?”

“I will be yours,” she spoke with raw and delicate earnest. “I will be faithful to you. I will be yours from this day, and every day, into eternity.”

“Aldrik Ci’Dan Solaris?”

“I will be yours,” Aldrik replied. Vhalla’s eyes widened a fraction. He’d gone off-script. It was slight, and he quickly returned to the expected words, but it had been there. He had offered himself as much to her as she had to him. It was a subtle statement, but a statement nonetheless. “I will shelter you. I will protect you. I will keep you as my own, as my Empress.”

“These vows have been said before Gods and men,” the Crone continued, as though Aldrik’s modification hadn’t even happened. “May they never be broken, and may these two never prove unfaithful to the words that have been spoken.

“Should the Mother above bless this union, may she touch this couple with her flame. Should the Father above bless this union, may the Mother’s flames leave their skin unmarred.” The Crone raised her hands.

A golden flame sparked at the short bottoms of the ribbon wrapped around their hands. Vhalla held Aldrik’s hand tightly. Her fingers already bore burn scars, and she could endure the pain for formality’s sake.

But the fire did not burn her. It consumed the ribbon, but only licked lightly on their skin. It was true magic, a type she had never seen before.

“With this sign from the Gods themselves, you are now united as one, husband and wife. May your life, and reign, be one of light,” the Crone announced.

Just like that, it was done. The crowd burst into fierce applause, and Vhalla blinked as if returning from a trance. Even if it was just for appearances, the masses seemed happy. They celebrated. And, for that moment, Vhalla, too, allowed herself to pretend that the world wasn’t at war. That they wouldn’t march out at dawn.

“Vhalla, kneel,” Aldrik whispered.

She swallowed hard and adjusted her skirts. Falling as gracefully as possible to one knee, she suddenly felt more nervous than she had all day. Aldrik released her hand slowly, making sure she was stable, before turning to his uncle.

The box Lord Ophain held was of no surprise to Vhalla. But, judging from the look on Aldrik’s face, it was a surprise to him. His hands paused, hovering mid-air just before opening the box.

“Uncle . . .” he breathed.

“She would’ve wanted it,” the lord insisted.

Aldrik’s long fingers ran over the top of the box before settling on the latch and opening it. Reaching in, he produced the same glittering crown Vhalla had seen earlier. Clearly, some of the nobles recognized it and were all too eager to tell their friends in the near vicinity all about the important history of the relic.

“Lady Vhalla Ya—” he caught himself. “Lady Vhalla
Solaris
.”

Hearing her new name was quite a strange, yet wonderful, sensation.

“Wife of the Emperor, common born and nobly appointed.” Aldrik lowered the crown upon her waiting brow. The moment his fingers vanished she felt the weight of it upon her head. “Rise and stand with me—as Empress Solaris.”

Just like that, the world changed. Aldrik held out both hands before her and helped her to her feet. Vhalla stood, not as a common-born library girl, a soldier, a sorcerer, or a lady, but as an Empress.

If the cheers for their wedding had been loud, the cheers for her coronation were near deafening. It was as though the people truly believed that, by having a whole royal family again, they stood a better chance against the madman in the south.

“My Empress.” Aldrik gripped her hands tightly, a beaming smile threatening to break through his trained decorum. “Ascend with me.”

Vhalla walked at his side up the stairs that he had descended earlier. She held her skirts with one hand, his hand in the other. She was terrified but hopeful. And all she wanted was him.

The door at the top of the balcony closed behind them, and the sound broke her trance. Vhalla found herself in a dimly lit hall, alone with the man who was now her husband. There were no words for the joy, the triumph. Vhalla threw out all necessary decorum and forced the Emperor against the door.

Her mouth crashed against his, and Aldrik’s arms closed around her waist. They had done it. In spite of it all, they had found each other. He tasted of pure elation and of something much sweeter, something she hadn’t dared even breathe in for some time:
hope
.

“Sooo,” Jax drawled from the end of the hall. “You two skipping the party?”

Vhalla pulled away, grinning wildly. She still had his jacket balled in her fists. His hands were halfway under the upper layer she wore overtop her skirts.

“What do you think, Empress?” Aldrik cocked his head to the side with a small grin.

“I think we are our own party.”

Aldrik laughed and pressed his lips against hers. Vhalla returned his kiss in earnest. Though she couldn’t commit to it fully due to the sensation of someone else’s eyes.

“Jax, are you . . . just going to stand there?” She fell back down onto her heels.

“It’s not every day you get to watch your sovereigns put on a show like two raging teens.” Jax leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. “Since it’s in a public place, I figured that meant you didn’t mind spectators. Or maybe you’d finally take me up on my offer of a third.”

“Oh, by the Mother.” Vhalla rolled her eyes and finally stepped away from her husband. “I suppose we should go.”

“If we must.” Aldrik’s cheeks held a faint rosy flush.

The rest of the royals and highest nobility were waiting for them in a small antechamber. Tina and Lilo both pressed their cheeks to hers in modest signs of affection. For the West, however, they were overt displays. Ophain welcomed her to the family as well.

Vhalla was momentarily distracted by Aldrik and her father sharing a brief familial embrace. He had lost his family in the South, but, in their own way, they were rebuilding anew. She hoped that her father could be someone Aldrik felt comfortable with.

Her eyes shifted towards foreign whispers. Za and Sehra stood a few paces away from everyone else, talking between themselves.

Vhalla crossed over. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Are you?” the princess asked thoughtfully.

“I am,” she affirmed. “It was an important display for the Empire.” Vhalla didn’t mince words. She knew the princess wouldn’t want it, and there was no longer time for it.

“You seem to be settling into your crown already, Lady Empress,” Sehra praised.

“The crown has little to do with it. I am no longer interested in fronts. I want action.”

Aldrik walked over, placing his palm on the small of her back.

“Emperor Solaris.” Sehra gave a small nod of her head, the most subservience the girl had ever demonstrated.

“Princess Sehra.” Aldrik mirrored the motion. “How did you find the ceremony?”

“Long and needlessly cumbersome, as I find most things in the South to be.” She gave the tiniest of smiles. “And one that I am very glad I was not forced to be at the center of.”

Vhalla should be offended, but she found herself amused. “Join us in the carriage?” she asked as they started for the large doors out of the cathedral.

“I would think those just married would seek some time alone,” the other royal hummed.

“We have had ample time to be alone. I am much more interested in speaking to you regarding the status of the North’s armies and any strategies you may have for reclaiming the South.” Vhalla readjusted her crown as the doors to the cathedral opened.

They lost the ability to converse due to the deafening cheers. Aldrik’s fingers remained entwined with hers as the Imperial couple waved at the gathered masses. Firebearers sent tongues of flame toward the heavens, and Commons waved pennons. With the world at its most beautiful and his hand in hers, for a second, it was a perfect dream. But Vhalla had yet to earn her happily ever after, if there was one to be had after the long march South.

Sehra and Za entered the carriage first and settled as Vhalla and Aldrik continued to smile and wave. Za was awkward with her bow and quiver, tools that never left the warrior’s side. Vhalla and Aldrik navigated around them while they took their seats.

“We have amassed an army of three thousand strong from Norin and the surrounding coastal cities,” Aldrik said, wasting no time in bringing Sehra up to speed on the most recent numbers. “That will join with another fifteen hundred from around the Crossroads and the East.”

“So then we will have nearly five thousand in total,” Sehra summed up gravely. It was a number that most strategists would be pleased with. But the princess’s emerald eyes still carried weight.

“What do you fear?” Vhalla asked.

“These men, they’re green. We have spent much time using our best to kill each other that we are now lame before a real force,” Sehra replied. “The earth quivers before this man’s magic. Even in Yargen, the trees shudder and cry out. He is tapping into something great.”

“That is why we will move as fast as we can.” Vhalla glanced at Aldrik, who gave an affirmative nod. They’d fulfilled their obligations to the nobles and secured their crowns and their armies. “Our army is set to march in three days’ time.”

“My warriors will arrive at the Crossroads in five.”

“Then forgive me, princess, because I know you have just arrived, but I will ask you and Za to ride ahead and meet them. The Western nobility will feel more at ease if they know the Northern army’s leader is present to keep them under control.”

“You think Shaldan people need keep under control?” Za frowned.

“No, I—”

“Peace, Za.” Sehra rested a hand on her guard’s knee. “She is worried for perception, not reality. The Southern peoples yet fear our might.”

Vhalla didn’t correct Sehra. She was truthfully afraid of the Western lords looking for any reason to pick a fight with the people who had been their enemies only months ago. Vhalla knew men and women whose sons and daughters had died in the Northern campaigns. If Vhalla and Aldrik could send letters in advance informing them that the North had an appointed and native commander who was holding them accountable, it would help keep the chain of command streamlined and respected.

“We will rest for two days at the Crossroads to replenish stock and rest the horses,” Aldrik said to no one in particular.