Chapter 8

William peeped into the dining hall, then continued his search in the hall once more. As he passed by a footman, he stopped to ask for the whereabouts of Lady Lucia, then hurried along again. The wedding preparations had taken them by storm and he hadn't seen her the whole week. They were to get married in two days and he needed to talk to her.

He knocked on the door to the drawing room before entering. Despite what the footman told him, Lucia was nowhere in sight. Adrian, however, was standing by the easel studying the canvas. He looked up when he heard William's footsteps, and automatically frowned.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

William shrugged. "I haven't seen Lucia all week. I was told she might be here."

"She was, but the women took her away for a final fitting," Adrian said.

William walked to his side so that he could see the painting. He immediately recognized the cliff as the one he and Lucia visited a week ago, except this one was covered with the murres that she had talked about. They were homely creatures, with simple white bellies and sleek brown backs. They were perched on the jutting surfaces on the cliff with their young. Against the barren rock, there was life.

"She was talking about these birds when we were out there last week," William said.

Adrian sighed, rolling his eyes. "She was always obsessed with them." Turning to William, he said solemnly, "They mate for life, you know."

William stiffened. "No, she didn't tell me that," he said slowly. He turned to Adrian. "I know you're protective of Lucia," he said. "Despite what you might think of me, I am a man of honor. I won't hurt her, I swear."

"Ah, well," Adrian said. "I suppose I can always order one of our friendly Royal Assassins to kill you if you don't keep your promises."

"Really, Adrian. Must you always end the conversation on a threat to William?" Lucia said from the door.

The men looked up, startled. Lucia entered, her powder blue morning gown seemed to brighten the room. Reaching William first, she tiptoed and pecked him on the cheek. When she got to Adrian, he scowled.

"Have you finished your gown fitting?" he asked.

"Yes, don't nag me, Adrian," Lucia said, kissing him on the cheek as well. "The seamstress was fussing over nothing, as usual."

She stepped back, smiling. "I have to say I'm glad the two of you are learning to get along five minutes on your own."

William held out his hands helplessly and said, "As we will be working together, we thought it best to make our peace."

"Precisely," Adrian agreed quickly, thumping the other man on the back.

Lucia laughed, clearly amused by their sheepish looks. To William, she said, "I heard you were looking for me. Will you take a walk with me in the gardens?"

William offered his arm. "With pleasure, my Lady."

As an afterthought, she looked over her shoulder and said to Adrian, "Don't look at my painting anymore, Adrian. I haven't finished it."

"If you were to let us hang your paintings up instead of locking them away in the attic, I would not have to peek at your unfinished paintings," Adrian retorted.

Lucia laid her hand on William's elbow as he escorted her down to the gardens. "Why do you not hang up your paintings?" he asked.

Lucia smiled wistfully. "I'm afraid they're not very good."

William stopped and gaped at her. "I thought they were excellent. Well, at least the one you are working on right now." With his free hand, he gestured. "You've got a gift for it."

Lucia led him on, tugging him a little. "Have you ever seen the paintings in the King's collection?" she asked. "My paintings pale in the shade of true genius. I mean, they're simply the height of human creativity. The paintings are so powerful that they will bring tears to your eyes."

William smiled a little as they stepped into the sunshine. "I think yours are amazing enough," he said.

"Thank you, William." She smiled. "That was very sweet of you to say."

The leaves were red and gold. It was not very cold yet, but autumn was definitely in the air. The air smelled like cinnamon and sugar as Lucia inhaled. She loved the crunch of the dried leaves at her feet, and wished that she could dive into the piles of leaves that the groundskeepers raked in once more, as she had when she was a child. Everything in the garden was dying, but she knew that come next spring, they would awake from their dormancy and rise again. And she wouldn't be here to see it.

"Lucia?"

As if waking from a dream, she roused herself out of her reverie, focusing back on William's face, creased with concern.

"Yes?"

He sat them down on a bench by the little pond. The water lilies had turned brown, and the fish had sunk to the bottom in preparation for the winter. There was no movement in the still water. He cleared his throat. "Well, we are to be married in two days, but we haven't discussed the ... erm, arrangement."

"What do you mean?" Lucia asked.

"Well, you probably already know the ... ah, things that happen between, um, a man and a woman," he muttered, gesturing vaguely toward her stomach. "We never discussed what we were to do with the um, the sleeping arrangement," he finished lamely.

Her shoulders drooped. "I suppose we will have to share a bed after the wedding, at least for a while, to keep up the pretense," she said softly.

"It is the only way," he said quietly. He touched her arm briefly.

"I know," she said. Her eyes were melancholic. "And afterwards?" she asked, lifting her face towards his. "What are we to do after the marriage, maybe a few months later?"

"I suppose that once you start to show, we can sleep in our own chambers," William said. "I won't force myself into your bed, Lucia."

"I know," she whispered. "I'm sorry, William."

So am I, he thought to himself. Expelling a breath, William stared at the bleakness of a dying garden.

To William, it seemed that the whole estate showed up for their wedding. Though the rows of chairs at the front of the temple were reserved for the Aubren and Ravenshire family, the majority of the audience was villagers living in Lyonsyle. They were dressed in their finest, the men twisting their hats nervously between their hands as the women waited patiently for the ceremony to start.

William sighed, pulling to adjust his embroidered tunic again. The gold threads at the sleeves really itched, and he had to use all his willpower to not scratch. The priest and priestess stood serenely in front of him on the dais. The priest was young, not much older than William. He had probably just been ordained into Priesthood. He wore his ceremonial white robe, embroidered with the golden emblem of the God of Fire, the Father of all things. The priestess was an older woman, her silver hair bound by gold ribbons. Her white robe was identical to that of the priest except for the emblem of the Goddess of the Earth, Mother of all living creatures.

The white marble of the temple was draped with golden fabric and ribbons. White silk lined the path from the door to the dais, scattered with white rose petals. The entire temple smelled of incense and roses. William sighed, readjusting his sleeves once more.

"Patience, my son," the priestess said, her voice low and melodic. "She will be here soon enough."

William nodded. As the first chord of the wedding music struck, he, along with everyone else, turned his head toward the door of the temple.

Lucia wiped her mouth with a handkerchief as she threw up what little breakfast she had managed to eat during the morning. She knew it wasn't just the baby that was making her sick. When she pried her hands from the rim of the basin and held them in front of her, they were shaking. Groaning, she laid her head against the cool wood of the dressing table.

She knew that in a couple of hours, her life would no longer be the same. She would not be the same. No longer Lady Lucia of Lyonsyle, but Lady Lucia of Ravenshire. All her actions would become subjected to the scrutiny of her husband.

Peering at the mirror, she checked herself once more, making sure that every hair was still in place. Maria had straightened her dark hair by sheer will and a ruthless wielding of the irons. It was now looped gracefully across her neck with a wreath of white roses woven into her hair.

Leaning closer to the mirror, she carefully dabbed a little color on her lips. Maria had performed a miracle, hiding the smudges underneath her eyes with powder earlier. Lucia could hardly distinguish their presence now.

A knock on the door shook her out of her thoughts. From the mirror, she saw Maria enter. As part of the bride's assembly, she was also in a plain white gown.

"It's time," she said.

Lucia stood up woodenly and followed her down. Shifting impatiently, Lucia heaved a long sighed as she stood in front of the entrance of the temple, waiting for the novices to open the door. Before leaving her, Maria kissed Lucia on both cheeks.

"Smile, dear child," she said warmly. "It is your wedding day."

Lucia clasped Maria's hand. "Thank you, Maria."

As the heavy oak door creaked open, Lucia took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped into her future.

At first, William could only see the halo around her figure, but as she stepped closer, his mouth fell open. Her gown was in pure white with a modest neckline dipping gracefully down, her shoulders left bare. The edge was embroidered with gold flowers and vines. Flaring sleeves of white silk descended down her arms. Her hips belled out gently below the bodice. The wreath of white flowers glowed against the darkness of her hair. Her eyes were wide and unsmiling, but he saw the determinacy in them. When she stood next to him, he offered his hand and clasped her cold fingers in his.