Echoes of Silence (23 page)

Matu stood, rolling the parchment and sliding it into his back pocket. “Echo has done you all a great favor. Come, ladies, I have carriages waiting.”

#

It seemed the entire compound had been quietly preparing for the royal wedding for many months. Upon our announcement, the servants switched into high gear. A florist brought three displays for my choosing, and I felt a wave of homesickness for Olive. I wished to see her nimble fingers craft my wedding bouquet while I listened to her stories about her life in Umon before I arrived.

Matu had not been able to find her in Iskadar, though the royal guard insisted they’d taken her all the way to Grandmother’s yellow front door. I’d begged him to continue the search, but word hadn’t reached me yet.

“Table arrangements,” the florist said, tearing my thoughts from my sister. Without thinking, I pointed to one with pink bleeding hearts, surprised he’d been able to put together such a beautiful arrangement in only a few hours. When I inquired, he said, “The designs have been ready for weeks. I’ll return to discuss your bouquet.” He then scooped up his creations and left me staring after him.

Weeks
, I mused as Lucia entered the suite. “My lady, we have your dress selections prepared.”

In another circumstance, I might have smiled. But she’d called me “my lady.”

“You and your many secrets,” I said. “Lucia—”

“Echo, this is what you want. This is what you have worked for—what we have all worked for.” She drew closer to me. “Why are you upset?” She glanced over her shoulder and back to me. “Is it Castillo?”

As far as I could determine, I enjoyed Cris’s company more than Castillo’s. Cris didn’t keep secrets from me the way Castillo did.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I’m just overwhelmed. Maybe I’m not ready to be married; to be a princess.”

Lucia hugged me, holding me tight for several long seconds. “Perhaps you’re letting fear rule your emotions.”

“Perhaps.” I certainly couldn’t tell her of my bond, and the powerful emotional tie Castillo and I shared, even if it wasn’t romantic.

She moved toward the door. “Come, you’re going to adore the dresses I’ve been hiding.”

“Lucia? Will you come with me to Nyth?” My question stopped her progress. She turned back to me, her eyes wide and filled with gratitude.

“I would be honored, my lady.”

I linked my arm through hers. “If you start calling me ‘my lady’ again, forget it. You can stay here.”

That solicited a laugh, and I felt lighter than I had since the engagement announcement. I went with her into my bedroom where three white gowns hung from the canopy frame. The first looked like it would adhere to my skin and never come off. It appeared straight from shoulder to knee, and far too small by the looks of it. The second dress boasted of a beaded bodice, with short sleeves and a flare in the skirt. The third looked more like a collection of bandages than a dress.

“The middle one,” I said. It looked the most like the designs Lucia and I had drawn and redrawn.

“Do you wish to try them on?” Lucia asked.

“Now? I, well . . . ” A knock on the door saved me. A man walked in without waiting for an answer. He wore a white chef’s jacket and carried a stack of parchment squares.

“We must talk about the menu,” he said.

I sighed as a pulsing pain started behind my eyes. “No duck. Other than that, I don’t care.”

A sour expression developed on the chef’s face as if I’d just insulted his mother. “No duck?” He shuffled the pages he held.

“No duck,” I confirmed. I’d never harbored grandiose dreams of what my wedding would be like. I’d never given much thought to marrying at all.

“Wines?” the chef asked.

“Whatever you think is good enough to serve the High King.”

Lucia cleared her throat, and I glanced at her. She motioned with her hand, like a normal bride-to-be would care about the beverages at her wedding.

“I mean, what do you recommend?”

The chef listed off the names of wines, which meant nothing to me. I asked him more clarifying questions about what might pair well with the main dish, and we decided on a wine together.

After he left my suite, I made for the courtyard, but didn’t make it two steps before Lucia said, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Torture,” I joked, but secretly I agreed. Another knock sounded on the door. A man entered, again without waiting to be greeted, and when he saw me, his face split into a grin.

“Hello, darling.” He tossed his long hair over his shoulder.

Taken aback by such hair on a man, all I could do was stare at him.

“I’m Lionel, the royal musician. I was told you would direct me in all things musical for the blessed event.”

“Told by whom?”

“The Prince, of course!” He twirled before looking at me again. I couldn’t seem to form my thoughts into words.

“You and His Majesty will dance, correct?” Lionel asked.

My legs turned to pudding at the thought. Grandmother had never taught me to dance, and Oake didn’t think my magical power resided in the movement of my limbs.

Lucia squealed. “Oh yes, there will be dancing.” She turned her joyful gaze on me. “I have the perfect gown for that, too.”

I was eternally glad she was here with me, and I hoped I could convey as much to her with a simple smile. “Is there someone who can teach me to dance?”

Lionel had the audacity to laugh. “I’m sure there is, Highness, but you won’t have time. The wedding is in three days!”

Having someone say it so flippantly brought a twist to my stomach that even Lucia’s enthusiasm could not undo.

Three days.

#

On my wedding day, I knew the exact moment the High King arrived. The very compound seemed to hold its breath, and a chill pressed under the cracks in the doors and bulged against the closed windows. I was lying in bed, waiting for dawn, and I sucked in a breath as I sat up.

I felt pulled toward his magic, and I didn’t like it. I couldn’t imagine growing up under his watchful glare, his constant displeasure. I saw the way he raised his hand as if to strike Cris, and fury burned bright in my heart. I thought of what Castillo said about his father being cruel, and my determination to protect my bond solidified.

“Echo?” Greta asked.

I turned, realizing I stood at the door, one hand on the knob, ready to leave.

“Where are you going, my lady?”

I shook my head to clear it of the High King’s dangerous magic. “Nowhere,” I said, moving quickly back to bed.

Only mere hours later, Lucia and Greta zipped, and buttoned, and tied me into my wedding dress. It felt more like a straightjacket. I wore nothing on my feet, and I’d asked Greta to tread lightly with the makeup. Lucia washed and curled my hair and formed it into inky ringlets that flowed over my shoulders.

The florist had brought the bouquet. It was passable, but my sister could’ve done my marriage justice in flowers alone. The chefs had been baking day and night. The musicians had tuned their instruments. I had not had time for dancing lessons, as Lionel had predicted. Even Lucia hadn’t been able to find a few spare minutes to instruct me.

I swallowed back the emptiness in my stomach. I hadn’t been able to eat anything but salad for two days. Apparently I couldn’t digest anything more significant than lettuce.

“It is time.” Lucia drew me into a hug and squeezed me tight. “It has been a pleasure serving you, Highness.”

“Stop,” I choked out. “I’m not a Highness of anything.” At least I wouldn’t be losing Lucia. I truly felt like we shared a sisterly bond. “You’ll be at the wedding, yes?”

Lucia nodded before joining Greta near the wall, where they waited silent and still. A moment later, Matu came to the door. He wore his finest suit in black, with a silk tie of pale pink. I noted that the roses in my bouquet matched the tie’s color exactly. At least someone had attended to the details of this event.

“Echo, you’re beautiful.” His eyes shone with emotion, and my heart longed for one more afternoon to wander through the gardens. “Are you ready?”

“No.” I moaned, but I reached for his arm anyway. Together, we left my suite and headed toward the ballroom where I’d eaten on my first night in the compound only a few months ago.

I knew I wouldn’t be returning to these rooms, or that courtyard. I mourned the loss, and not only because of the loss of my privacy. I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell on where I would sleep tonight, and with whom. The mere thought caused my chest to tighten and my throat to narrow.

All too soon, we stood before the double doors of the ballroom. I imagined the hundreds of people crammed inside. If I strained my ears, I could hear their chatter. They would quiet as soon as I entered, and I suddenly needed more than Matu’s steady arm to keep me upright.

“Castillo will take you down the aisle,” Matu whispered. “Cris will be on your left. I may not see you again, dear Echo. You take care.” He started to remove his arm and reach for the door, but I stopped both movements.

“Of course we’ll see each other again,” I said. “You’re coming with us to Nyth, aren’t you?”

“Only the Prince’s Guard will accompany you to Nyth.”

“You are not in the Prince’s Guard?”

“No,
my lady
.
”

“Who do you serve?”

“I serve you, or at least, I did. Now that this is over, I’ll get another assignment.”

“You will still serve me. I’m the Princess, or at least I will be, and I need guards I can trust.” The words I didn’t say—
I cannot trust Bo or Gibson
—hung in the air between us.

Finally Matu nodded. “And Castillo?”

“He’s coming too, of course,” I said, tasting the lie in my mouth. I knew Castillo couldn’t come to Nyth. I’d known it since the night we bonded.

“Where’s the High King seated?” I whispered.

“Front row, on your left.” Matu squeezed my hands. “Good luck, my lady
.
” He kissed my cheek and opened the door, slipping behind it so the crowd gathered in the ballroom could only see me.

As predicted, a hush settled over the people. I walked forward on legs that didn’t seem to bend properly, and just when I thought I couldn’t continue, Castillo arrived.

I smiled at him in what I hoped was a proprietary way for one about to marry someone else. He didn’t return it, and the knowledge that we’d kept our bond a secret made my step surer.

We moved down the aisle, where Cris waited with the brightest look of hope on his face. He kept cutting his eyes toward Castillo, but I refused to look anywhere but at him. If we were to be married, we’d have to start relying on only each other.

Forever later, and yet too soon, I stood next to him. The royal pastor spoke. My finger was pricked and bound. I recited something in the Nythinian language. Cris and I kissed. The crowd erupted and the musicians launched into their wedding march.

The High King sat back wearing a smug smile across his face. I dared only glance at him for a moment, and I noted that Cris didn’t look at him at all. I admired the strength Cris had to do that. I felt the High King’s flickering eyes watching my every step. Finally, we moved past him, and white rose petals started to shower over us. I faked a smile for the people as they raised their voices in congratulations.

Everything whirled around me. I had no time to process anything, no time to truly taste the masterpieces the chefs had prepared, no time to admire the beauty in the flowers on the table and miss my sister’s presence. The wedding banquet felt stuffed full of words, of people, of expectations. The High King sat in the middle of the dais, with Cris to his immediate right, and me beside my new husband. We both sat straight and tall, and not only because of the heavy crowns on our heads.

I dared not speak lest the High King overhear. Thankfully, he left as soon as he finished eating, carving a wide path toward the exit. Gibson and Bo went with him, and every muscle in my body relaxed. Beside me, Cris exhaled, and I reached for his hand under the table.

My eyes narrowed when I spied Mari. She wore purple silks and danced with her guard, Solis. I remembered that she didn’t hail from Umon. Perhaps she was never here as a real candidate for Cris. Or perhaps Matu had simply not been able to ensure her safe return and get back for the wedding in time.

After an hour of smiling and nodding and accepting good wishes, Cris led me through the ballroom and we burst into the emptiness of the hallway. Cooler air surrounded me and I took lungful after lungful of it. Because by the time Cris closed the door to his quarters, caging me inside with him, all the oxygen had vanished.

The room felt too large, but as the High King stood his presence seemed to cause everything to shrink. Including Cris.

“Father.” He strode forward and embraced him with tension in his shoulders. “Thank you for coming to the wedding.”

“I shall expect you both in Nyth very soon,” the High King said, switching his gaze from Cris to me.

“Of course.” Cris returned to my side. I couldn’t read the look in his eyes before he turned to face his father. I fumbled for his hand and when I found it, I squeezed. “We plan to leave in only a day or two.”

The High King exhaled, but it sounded like a hiss. “Now, where did Gibson get to?”

“He was standing guard outside. I sent him to his personal quarters,” Cris said without a tremor in his voice. Relief swam through me when he didn’t justify his actions.

The High King frowned as if Cris had no authority over his own guards. “You made a beautiful bride, Echo,” he said stepping toward me.

I sucked in a breath and managed not to edge closer to Cris. “Thank you, Your Excellence, though I’m sure you only thought so because of my magic.” The words came from my throat, but I hadn’t thought of them before giving them voice. Both the High King and the Prince stiffened.

Fury flashed in the High King’s changeable eyes. His magic reared into a dark and powerful being. It swelled to the edges of his person, straining against his control to be unleashed. I’d never felt something so vicious, so huge. Oake had taught me little of sorcery, citing that if I encountered someone who practiced dark magic to get as far away as possible. I couldn’t do that here, and Cris and I couldn’t sail into the horizon, never to return to Nyth.