Wedding Bells, Magic Spells (31 page)

“That’s what we did,” I said. “Then we had another sip at another time. Unfortunately, those times were only a couple seconds apart.”

“It’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

Edythe gave my shoulders a proud squeeze. “Benares and Eiliesor women are built of tough stuff. We can take it.”

“Obviously.”

I vaguely saw someone who looked like Vegard—actually he looked like two Vegards. Both of them took one look at us and burst out laughing.

I winced and held the side of my head with the hand not attached to the arm that was holding on to Edythe.

My bodyguard, bless him, immediately recognized our sorry state and clapped his hand over his mouth. It didn’t stop him from laughing, but I was grateful for the muffling.

Note to self: Kick Vegard later when you can feel your legs.

Mychael appeared behind him.

There was only one of him. Things were looking up.

“Mother?”

“Darling!”

It was all Mychael could do not to laugh. “I was going to ask if you’re all right, but it’s apparent that you are.”

“I feel splendid,” she pronounced with a grand sweep of her arm that nearly sent us both to the floor. “Though I suspect in the morning I will pray most fervently for death.”

“Yes ma’am, you certainly will,” Vegard heartily agreed.

Edythe turned on her son. “How could you allow this lovely girl to think I wouldn’t adore her and her absolutely charming family?”

One of Phaelan’s eyebrows nearly arched up into his hairline. “Charming?”

Mychael gaped at her. “I never said—”

“You didn’t have to say; you assumed. And you assumed incorrectly.”

“He may have assumed incorrectly,” I said, “but it was because he didn’t have all the facts.”

“I’ve kept things from my children.” Edythe heaved a despondent sigh that only the truly drunk could carry off. “What kind of mother keeps secrets from her children?”

I thought for a foggy moment. “All of them?”

She put her hand to her forehead, suddenly unsteady on our feet. “Oh dear. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to take a nap.”

Like the true lady she was, Edythe Eiliesor gracefully sank to the floor.

Being unified in drunken sisterhood, I followed.

The morning of my wedding dawned unnecessarily bright.

And the bride had a hangover.

I didn’t say it out loud for fear of excruciating pain and possible death. I didn’t think anyone had ever died of a hangover, but I wasn’t going to risk it because there was a first time for everything. If Edythe felt anywhere near as bad as I did, we were going to be quite a pair. That thought made me smile. It hurt, so I stopped.

Mychael and I had slept separately last night, and wouldn’t see each other until the ceremony later this morning. We’d had enough bad luck lately, so I didn’t want to tempt Lady Luck further by letting the groom see the bride before the wedding. I’d always thought that was a stupid custom. Though bad luck for a normal bride would be rain on her wedding day, or tripping on her dress and tearing it. We had an invasion by an off-world army and our on-world archenemies hanging over our heads. Bad luck for me could be the worst possible luck for everyone.

The ceremony would be in the citadel’s chapel. I’d chosen it because of its relatively small size and beauty. The beauty was provided by its stained-glass windows. Windows that later this morning would be sparkling with head-splitting color as the sunlight streamed through.

Imala and Tam were probably still at the goblin embassy. I wondered if it was too late to send a messenger over to ask if she had an extra pair of what no nocturnal goblin would face a bright day without.

Sun spectacles. I needed a pair desperately. It could be my something borrowed. For a wedding present, Imala had already given me my something blue—five blued-steel goblin daggers that I’d had incorporated into my bouquet, the beautifully ornamented grips adding a special touch to the floral arrangement. I didn’t understand the point of carrying only a bunch of flowers.

There was a knock at the door, and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees in agony. I opened the door as soundlessly as possible. It was Phaelan. He was smiling.

The bastard.

“Cousin, you’re even worse off than I thought you’d be.”

“Shhh.”

He was still smiling. Even his teeth were too bright.

“Loud talking hurts, huh?”

“Shut up.”

He looked more closely, though he didn’t need to. I knew what I had; he didn’t need to remind me.

“That’s a beauty of a black eye.”

I smiled. At least I tried to. It probably looked more like a lip spasm. “You should see the other guy.”

“I have. By the way, they’re not talking—at least not the two who are still alive.”

None of the Khrynsani shapeshifters had been killed by any of our guests—including my family, which was a major accomplishment. As soon as they knew there was no escape, eight of the shapeshifters had swallowed poison. Two had been knocked unconscious before they had the chance. The fake Edythe had been one of those taken alive.

Phaelan came in and closed the door. Quietly. “By the way, congratulations on bonding with your new mother-in-law last night.”

To hell with the pain. I smiled. We had bonded, and those memories made me unspeakably happy.

He held up a bottle.

I held up my hands. “No, no, no.”

“It’s not hair of the dog. You drank from Justinius’s cellar. I couldn’t steal anything that good. It was good, wasn’t it?”

“Very.”

“Damn. I hate that I missed it.”

“What’s in there?”

“For me? A noxious and vile brew. For you, the thing that’s gonna get you down the aisle.”

“Do I want to know what’s in it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You sure that won’t poison me? I’ve had it with poisons. Besides, Mychael would kill you.”

“Mychael would be at the front of a long line. And most of the people in that line could turn me into something with eight legs. If it makes you feel any better, it’s Tarsilia’s recipe.”

I took the bottle. “It does.”

“I thought it would. I’m here to be the man who keeps the bride from throwing up on her silk shoes. As to being here early, I knew you’ll soon be overrun with women intent on getting you fed, bathed, dressed, and ready. You like these ladies and wouldn’t want to bite their heads off, so I got here early with what you need to keep your friends.”

I took the bottle. “How much of this swill do I need to drink?”

“A couple of shot glasses’ worth. And definitely do them like shots.” He flashed an entirely too bright smile. “Toss ’em back so you don’t throw ’em up.”

“Lovely.” I uncorked the bottle, took a sniff, and willed my stomach not to flip. “You were with Markus and Brina when all hell broke loose last night. What happened?”

Phaelan’s smile broadened into a grin. “I helped.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask. What did you help do?”

“Protect and defend the director of elven intelligence.”

“A shapeshifter went after him?”

“Oh, hell, no. One thought about it, but changed their mind.”

“I take it the ring of rapiers surrounding Markus changed it for them?”

Phaelan nodded proudly. “Brina and I make a good team.”

I shuffled over to my bedside table in search of a glass. “So it’s ‘Brina’ now, is it?”

“I think she likes me.”

“How do you know that?”

“She hasn’t tried to kill me yet.”

“For you, that’s a promising start.”

Phaelan shrugged. “I’ll take it.”

I tossed back the first dose of Phaelan’s—excuse me, Tarsilia’s—hangover cure and my entire body promptly spasmed to get rid of that nasty concoction.

“Yeah, the first dose is always the worst,” my cousin said. “Go ahead and toss the next two back and I promise you’ll start feeling better.”

“Tarsilia made this.”

“Yes, Tarsilia made this. Trust me, it works.”

The only alternative to trusting Phaelan was killing him for making me feel even worse, which until now I hadn’t thought was possible. I wasn’t up to killing, so that left trust. I didn’t think my taste buds survived the next two doses, but the rest of me did. And true to Phaelan’s word, I started feeling better. Immediately.

“Wow.”

My cousin was nodding and smiling. “Wow is right. Today of all days, I would not steer you wrong.”

I stood up straight and actually felt like it. Within another minute, the pounding in my head stopped, and I didn’t have to squint against the little bit of light that I’d been barely able to stand. I might never taste again, but considering that less than five minutes ago, I’d felt like I was weakly scratching on Death’s door, it was a small price to pay.

There was a knock at the door and I didn’t clutch my head and drop to my knees. It was a definite improvement.

“I may live,” I said. “Thank you.”

Phaelan came over and actually gave me a peck on the cheek on his way out. “Just remember to do the same for me on my wedding day.” He didn’t give me a chance to ask what he meant by that before he opened the door. “She’s all yours,” he told Tarsilia and Alix as he left.

My friends took one look at me with identical expressions of horror and disbelief. They looked amazing. I did not.

Alix was wearing a stunning gown of pale blue that set off her blond hair and blue eyes to perfection. Tarsilia was wearing robes that befitted her new station.

“We’ve got our work cut out for us,” Alix noted.

Tarsilia stuck her head back out in the hall and told one of the Guardians on duty outside my room to get Dalis down here now. I heard boots running down the hall. Even if Justinius hadn’t already announced the new members of the Seat of Twelve, I think that Guardian would have run just as fast to carry out Tarsilia’s order. I didn’t even try to stop her. While I knew Mychael loved me unconditionally, I didn’t want to put it to the test in front of all our friends, family, and guests. I didn’t want to see anything except love in his eyes when he lifted my veil.

Dalis came, did her usual exceptional work, and left. The area around my right eye was still tender and slightly blue with bruising—which would turn lovely shades of green and yellow over the coming days—but at least it was no longer black.

Between Tarsilia’s hangover cure, Dalis’s healing work on my eye, and a hot bath—I emerged looking and feeling almost lifelike. The silk confection of a gown that Alix had made for me completed the illusion.

I may not have felt my best, but I certainly looked it. Cuinn Aviniel’s gift was a completely deactivated, detached, full-length mirror allowing the bride to admire herself to her heart’s content. And admire I did.

Vegard was waiting outside my room to escort me to the chapel. He was attired in his formal Guardian uniform. My eyes went a little wide at the dozen identically uniformed—and armed—Guardians with him.

“An honor guard, ma’am,” Vegard assured me.

I scooped up my bouquet of blades and blooms. Tarsilia and Alix were right behind me. “To make sure the three of us don’t get into any trouble on the way to the chapel?”

He took one look at the bouquet and snorted. “We can try, but some things simply aren’t possible.”

The trip from my room to the citadel’s chapel was thankfully uneventful.

My father and godfather were waiting for me outside the chapel’s doors.

I simply stopped and stared at the two of them. They were the newest members of the Seat of Twelve, and they looked it.

Garadin glanced down at his fancy, new robes in resignation. “I know. Alix said if I made you look bad, she’d kill me. And as a newly minted member of the Seat of Twelve, I had a standard to live up to.”

“You look amazing.”

Garadin grinned and shrugged. “I clean up well.”

Eamaliel looked perfectly at ease and perfectly elegant in his formal robes.

“Mom would have approved,” I said softly. I looked to Garadin and then back at Eamaliel. “And I think seeing the two of you here together would have made her so happy.”

Eamaliel’s gray eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I wish she could have been here. She would have been so very proud of you.”

I smiled. “Who’s to say she’s not?” I passed my bouquet to Alix and linked my arms through theirs. As she handed it back to me, Garadin saw my customized floral arrangement and rolled his eyes. I grinned at them both. “Shall we?”

The citadel’s chapel was glowing with the late morning sunlight. Thanks to Tarsilia’s magical elixir and Dalis’s healing, no squinting or sun spectacles were needed.

Then I saw Mychael waiting at the end of the aisle; it was a sight I wouldn’t have missed seeing crystal clear for the world.

As I made my way down the aisle, my father and godfather on either side, I couldn’t help but think how perfect my life was, how right. Yes, there would probably be an invasion; and yes, if there was, war would come as a result. But we had something we’d never had before in the entire history of the Seven Kingdoms—a peace treaty signed by six out of the seven, and the promise of an alliance in which we would fight together against any and all invaders.