It was hot. The couple had insisted on their marriage being performed over the alter to Hephestia. The alter had been quickly erected with a pavilion for the soon-to-be king and his bride. However, that left the standing multitude of spectators from both countries boiling under the sun. It was especially hard for the people from the mountain who were used to far cooler temperatures. It didn't help that they were all in their country's color of black.

The minister of war had waved his rights of being under the pavilion with Eddis. He had worried that if he was any closer, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from attempting to halt this travesty. As it was, he was sorely tempted to march up there and rip his son from that harpy's clutches and the gods take politics.

It had been hard enough when his two daughters had gotten married. At least he personally knew that their husbands were good men. At least they still lived in the capitol. At least their spouses weren't emotionless viragos who maimed his son!

He could feel his eyebrows furrow and his teeth grind. He didn't notice that his hands were clenched into fists until he felt someone grip his arm. He startled and looked at the person who would approach him in such a mood. Galen. He should have known.

"Just remember, he chose this."

"Frankly, that doesn't help. We are talking about the same boy who chose to steel everyone's left shoe. For a month."

"That was ages ago. He's grown up since then."

"That was eighteen months ago."

"A lot has happened in that time. She won't harm him. He'll be safe."

"She already has harmed him. Besides, being a king isn't safe. There's uprisings, assassination attempts, and let's not forget the Medes."

"He loves her and without her, I think he would have taken a short trip off a tall mountain. Before he came up with this scheme, he wasn't living. Some of the more crass members of court were taking bets on how long he'd last."

That was true. After he had lost his hand, Gen had been like a ghost. Physically he had been present, but looking into his eyes, there had been nothing, no spark, no fire. He had to admit, ever since he had come up with this hair-brained scheme, he had been more like his usual self.

"I still don't like her."

"Honestly, I would be worried if you did. Just remember, you can't hold on to tightly to Thieves. They'll gnaw off their own hand to escape something they don't like. The only cage they'll allow themselves to be caught in is one of their own making."

They both fell silent as the priestess finished talking. The newly married couple turned to face the waiting crowd. Gen was wearing a small smirk that the minister of war recognized immediately. It was the one where he was immensely proud of himself and how things had turned out. It didn't escape his notice the tight grasp Gen had on his new wife and how tightly she gripped him.

The crowd let out a cheer though the minister could see how the Attolians were either glaring at the interloper or laughing at the thought of their queen being so humbled as to marry someone so young. Not one of them could care less if he was a competent king or if the two of them actually loved each other.

The minister of war smiled to himself. Maybe his son really did love his wife. Maybe this was all one of his less-than thought out schemes. Either way, the Attolians were in for a surprise, for like a sword, Gen thrived in the fires of adversities and passed through, stronger on the other side. Either way, he would be there to catch Gen if he fell. He lifted his voice in a war cry, lost in the cheering crowds.