Five

The royal wedding was extravagant.

            The princess looked marvelous in her flowing gown of blush charmeuse and beige shroud. The dress fit her like a glove, hugging her curves, as did all Broslan formal attire went, and streamed behind her a good three yards. Her shroud covered her lovely features completely, hiding the maiden’s face until her husband lifted the covering, revealing what only his and her eyes would first see as a wedded pair.

            Then, they would clasp hands, the husband’s on top, in a dignified manner, as the two would descend the flower laden aisle of multicolored hellebore and red orchid petals. The throne room had been decorated with tapestries of the royal family bloodline and the groom’s history as well. Banners with the Broslan colors adorned the columns of the gods. The benches the guests were sitting on had been carefully crafted to provide both comfort and style with dark woods and colorful cushions. Candelabras lined each end of the guest benches to create a soft and warm glow throughout the open area of stone and darkness. The sun had begun setting by the time the nuptials began, allowing the red rays to seep through the clear glass arches.

            All in all, it was beautiful.

            In human weddings, the bride and groom would kiss after their vows. Elves would link arms, elbow to elbow, as they would transcend the mass into the Hidden Forests to consummate their union. Broslans simply held hands, noncommittedly, being most marriages in the Broslan kingdom were arranged and lacking any emotion. Elves and humans tended to marry for love whereas the cold-hearted creatures of Broslans married for wealth and land. Land was power and money led to power.

            Devyn sat idly during the ceremony, smiling when appropriate and blinked back tears when needed. Her eyes traveled up the stone pathway to where the prince sat, bored expression on his face, with is eye covers drooping over his straight nose. He was clad in a loose fitting olive tunic with dark trousers stuffed into his war boots. He was posed in a comfortable manner, nothing like his father who sat with his back ramrod straight. No, the prince had one leg hooked over his throne chair armrest, the ornate backing supporting his slumped shoulders, with an arm supporting his head. He looked positively uninterested and Devyn didn’t blame him.

            While the wedding was a sight to be seen, it was quite dull and long. The vicar droned on about Broslanian culture and tradition while the princess kept her head towards the ground. Devyn sighed once or twice when she realized the false hope of the wedding being done. But once she thought the vicar was through, a choir would strike up and sing hymns in the Broslan tongue and he would continue once the last note was sung. Even the wedding party was growing bored, from what she could tell, as their eyes would light up at the prospect of leaving the dreadful thing.

            She resisted the urge to fidget several times, only stiffening at the cast of her foster mother’s disdainful glare. Oh, she was going to be whipped several times over once they returned to Edrein for her actions. However, how had they not been dismissed the moment she committed the crime? Suspicion lurked around her mind as her eyes wandered up the decorated pathway. They landed on the prince, whose eye covers had been completely taken off to reveal those silver irises, as he looked at her. She blushed, and bowed slightly to show respect, the suspicion completely evaporated and replaced by thoughts of want. The corner of his mouth turned up just a little before it was placed back into the frown he’d been wearing the entire ceremony.

            He turned his attention back towards the couple exchanging words of promise and adoration although everyone in the throne room knew just how little those words meant.

            Dev wondered what it would be like to love someone, to find her true love. Would it be blissful and full of amazement? Or would it be hard and brutal, crippling one’s heart to the point of exhaustion? A pucker appeared between her thick brows; true love wasn’t real. If it was real, then Lord Tworidge would prefer his wife over other women. Even her. Maybe he wouldn’t be the terrible person he was and pay for young girls rather than have his own wife.

            Shaking her head, she forced the disturbing memories from her mind and clutched her rosy skirts between her knuckles. A lone tear slipped out of her left eye, not from the wedding. She shuddered and squirmed in her seat when she received a glare from her mother. Dev pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, willing the memories away.

            Finally, the vicar announced the joining of the two households and names, gesturing the two clasp hands and walk down the aisle. The Duke of the Westlands proudly lifted his wife’s veil and supported her hand with his own. He was handsome, though, not like the prince who had different features than most Broslans sported. The princess was absolutely stunning with her high cheekbones and sharp nose. Her eyes belied her expression of happiness. They were watery and fearful with hesitance hovering around the edges.

            Dev caught the princess’s eye as she passed their bench and she knew what the princess was feeling: complete and utter terror. From what though? From her new husband? Was he notorious for beating women or even raping them? Devyn didn’t know for she had never seen the duke before or heard of him for that matter. Maybe the poor girl just didn’t want to get married to someone she didn’t know. Devyn would feel that way if it were to happen to her.

            “Leave us,” Lord Tworidge demanded Devyn once the guests were beginning to disperse.

            Dev was taken aback. “Pardon?”

            “I said leave. Go back to your room and do not come out until we call for you,” Steffanos hissed.

            Dev cocked a brow and looked to her sister for guidance. Ellie’s eyes were cast down in a saddened state. What was going on?

            Devyn did as she was commanded and headed back to her room, pacing around the bed until a knock echoed throughout the area. She cracked opened the door and saw Ellie standing there with tears streaming down her face.

            “Elissa? What’s the matter?”

            Ellie’s bottom lip quivered as she shook her head. “Mother and father plan on selling you. As a slave,” she blubbered out.

            Devyn’s face lost all color as her stomach dropped to her knees. “What?” Her eyes were wide with fear and bewilderment at what her parents would do. Sure, she wasn’t their daughter by blood but they hadn’t been completely terrible to her. Though she had been treated and punished like a slave before when she’d accidentally dropped a glass and broke it. Oh, no. Realization dawned on her. Dev was a young human, barely the age of eight and ten, with violet eyes. And she was quite certain the king was looking for another courtesan to add to his growing collection. She would fetch a pretty penny given her looks of innocence though her body was far from it.

            “I’m so sorry,” Elissa gripped her sister tightly. “I came here to bring you to them. I want you to know that I love you and I will find a way to get you out of this.”

            Two palace guards came up behind Ellie, dressed in charcoal armor with red capes. Tears began to fall from Dev’s eyes once the guards gripped her upper arms and hauled her to an unknown fate of terrifying proportions.