Summary: After years of solitude, Elsa now seeks to be the queen Arendelle deserves. But when Arendelle is invaded by a Southern King who is intent on deposing Elsa and claiming Arendelle, Elsa must muster all her courage to protect her country, and herself.
Chapter Twelve
- Forever More -
"And again." Garlan's voice sounded distant through the ringing in-between Aedan's ears.
Aedan grunted and spat out a mouthful of sand. His heart pulsed with the adrenaline of the fight and his breath came in short gasps.
"You picked up some poor habits while in Arendelle, I see," Garlan said jovially.
"I'm well aware," Aedan replied shortly, spitting again. He staggered to his feet and retrieved his practice sword from the ground. Each of his steps felt sluggish on the soft white sand, and his thighs and calves burned in protest at the exertion. The practice sword felt like a stone in his hands. "It's too heavy," Aedan complained, sword-point held uselessly in his hands.
"Your injury in Arendelle sapped too much of your former strength," Garlan said. "You've lost too much weight."
Aedan scowled. Alexia had told him that she wasn't gifted in healing magic. Much of the energy it had taken to repair Aedan's wound had come from himself.
"Try the set again," Garlan said from the side. "And try to avoid his pretty face this time, Ornsten. We don't want him to be black and blue with his happy day fast approaching."
"Why not?" Aedan said. "The bruises will match the ones on my bride."
That wiped the smile from Ornsten's face, but Garlan's could not be budged. "Pay no attention to my brother," he said to Ornsten. "He's just frightened. Now again!"
Ornsten leveled his practice spear at Aedan and came at him. Aedan managed to deflect the first strike at his knees and battered away the follow-through as it swept toward his head. But the weight of the strike threw Aedan off balance. He stumbled backward and Ornsten seized the advantage. He hooked his spear around Aedan's ankle and yanked, sending Aedan sprawling back to the sand.
"I'm not frightened," Aedan said (moaned).
"Then why do you look like you've seen the Night Queen's ghost whenever someone mentions Elsa's name?" Garlan gripped Aedan's arm and hauled him to his feet. "We can understand, you know. In a week you'll be Queen Elsa's prince-consort, responsible for siring the future king or queen of Arendelle.'
Aedan shrugged his brother's hand away and didn't reply.
"Fine, fine, deny away," Garlan said. "Maybe Ornsten can drum some courage into you. Try high stance this time."
"High stance will leave my legs exposed," Aedan protested. Not to mention he could barely raise the heavy practice sword above his head without his arms shaking in protest.
"That won't be a problem if you keep your feet moving. You've been as steady as a tree all morning."
Grumbling, Aedan raised the practice sword above his head with both hands, point raised to the sky. He stepped forward cautiously, feet crunching on the sand.
Padded spear tip flashing, Ornsten aimed a probing jab at Aedan's exposed chest. Aedan slapped it down, using the weight of the sword to power his stroke. Ornsten's brow furrowed as he stepped forward and pressed the spear into the gap between Aedan's legs.
He tried to step away, but Ornsten but the spear's wooden wing caught his ankle once more and yanked it forward. Off balance, Aedan pivoted and turned the fall into a clumsy roll.
Ornsten was spinning. Rising swiftly, Aedan darted forward.
The spear tapped his half-healed scar, and Aedan doubled over in pain. Ornsten spun again and smashed the spear into Aedan's ankles.
The practice sword went flying and Aedan tasted sand again.
"You're not going to become as good as Rickard Ashaela like that. I'm told he bested three men at once yesterday morning." Garlan hooted. "The king's champion – humbled in the dirt!"
"I told you overhand would leave my legs exposed!" Aedan rubbed his scar with his fingertips. It wasn't bleeding – thankfully!
Garlan scoffed. "Ornsten didn't bring you down with a strike at your legs. You were finished as soon as you let that spear touch your wound."
"I didn't let him." Aedan sat up and blinked sand out of his eyes. The look that passed between Ornsten and Garlan made frustration burn thickly in Aedan's chest.
"You're moving too slowly," Ornsten said.
"Then you try lugging this thing around," Aedan flung his practice sword at Ornsten, who caught it easily. He was being petulant, he knew, but frustration burned like a thick cloud in his mind.
"It's only heavy enough to make you strong again," Garlan said. "This is your first session on the sands in over a month, what did you imagine it was going to be like? People don't survive wounds like yours and have their skills remain intact. Ornsten's right, you're too slow. You'll become stronger; faster, and it'll get easier. Now get your head out of Elsa's skirts and try again."
It was one ridicule too much. Spitting, Aedan turned on his heel and stalked away.
"Where do you think you're going?" Garlan called after him.
"To see the only person in this damned city who doesn't know about my bloody wedding!"
#
"And again." Madam Sophia's voice was warm and husky. It reminded Elsa of the warmth of a kitchen fire during the middle of winter. That alone might have warmed Elsa towards the woman if the accent to go with the voice wasn't so thickly . . . Ovelian.
Elsa lifted her arms and let a raven-haired maidservant measure the length of her arms and shoulders with a piece of knotted string. Another maidservant – this one with chestnut hair – wrapped a different piece of string around her hips.
"So skinny," the chestnut-haired maidservant said as she tied a thick knot in the string.
It was true. Elsa had been amazed at just how much weight had slipped from her already slender body after her month-long imprisonment in the tower. Madam Sophia was going to great lengths to correct that as well. The woman sat with Elsa during every meal, making sure that she ate every bite. Without Madam Sophia's supervision, Elsa didn't think she would have eaten at all. Her stomach was always in tatters, wondering when someone would come to tell her that Maximilian had changed his mind.
"Best add another knot to that," Madam Sophia told the maidservant. "I'm certain Lady Elsa will have filled out a bit more by the time the dresses are ready."
With the amount Elsa had been eating, she was sure that was true.
"Why am I being measured for new gowns?" Elsa asked. "Aren't I still a prisoner?"
"You are still a queen, and you cannot continue wearing those rags," Madam Sophia said. "Queen Emilia herself commanded it. You will have small clothes, hose, dresses, tunics, kirtles, shawls, and cloaks ready for you inside the week. I have seven seamstresses and twice as many apprentice girls set all other work aside to work on this for you."
"So many clothes..." Elsa noted.
"The undergarments will all be white, of course," Madam Sophia continued. "But there will be lots of blues and greens for the dresses, and perhaps a deep crimson one, too. They'll all compliment your fair hair and lovely skin. Have you finished those measurements, girls?"
"Yes," the maidservants squeaked in unison.
"Good. Make sure you don't lose them, or I'll have your hides for whipping."
A brisk knock rapped against the door. "That must be the boy with your midday meal," Madam Sophia said. She clicked her fingers and one of the maidservants darted to open the door.
"Ser Aedan," the maidservant squeaked in surprise.
Everyone turned to look at the man standing in the doorway. Cold sweat mixed with sand stained Aedan's brow. His hair clumped together against his forehead, speaking of a morning spent training in the yard down below. He wore a set of sand-stained training cuirass, which left his arms exposed from shoulder down to his hands.
Elsa regarded him with surprise. She certainly hadn't expected him to visit her. The last time she had seen Aedan, he had been flogged by Maximilian's monster. He had filled out since then – no longer seeming skeletal and wane, although he still looked skinnier than he had the first time she had seen him.
"Oh," Aedan said with a look around the room, and at the maids with their measuring ropes. "I . . . I didn't realize you were in the middle of something." His eyes lingered on Elsa's exposed shoulders. Elsa felt a touch of colour enter her cheeks and she looked away – so did Aedan, when he realized what he was doing. "I'll come back."
"It's not a problem," Madam Sophia said, standing. "We've just about finished." She picked up Elsa's long, blue shawl and wrapped it around Elsa's shoulders.
"So romantic!" Elsa heard one of the maidservants giggle to the other.
"Hush, girl," Madam Sophia said sharply. "Don't bother Lady Elsa with your drivel."
The maid fell silent, but still exchanged a bright, excited smile with the other.
Romantic? Elsa thought, confused. How is any of this remotely romantic?
Madam Sophia closed the door behind Aedan after she allowed him into the room. He swept a twitching hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. He looked so self-conscious standing there with four pairs of eyes trained on him, waiting to see what he would do. He opened his mouth, and then looked at Madam Sophie. "Can we have the room for a moment?"
"Oh . . .yes, of course!" Madam Sophia said. "Come girls, quickly. She looked at Elsa. "We'll confirm the measurements in a few days, and I'll return with your meal shortly. "Then, to Aedan: "Don't you dare put your grubby fingers on any of my silks."
Aedan scoffed. "Just who do you take me for?"
Madam Sophia swatted him with one of the knotted strings, then gathered the two maidservants and left the room, leaving Elsa alone with Aedan.
An uncomfortable silence fell between the pair. Aedan shifted his feet as if he didn't know what to say, and Elsa was content to let him squirm. She realized this was the first time they had spoken – let alone been in the same room together in weeks. Why has he come now?
"Ah . . . your bruises look much better," Aedan finally said.
Elsa touched her throat with her fingertips. The thick rope of purple and blue had faded into a motley mess of greens only a scarf could completely cover. Her other cuts and scrapes had healed nicely as well, exposure to the salty air having done it much good. Elsa felt like she needed to reply. "I heard you were the one who pulled me from the cage."
Aedan shook his head. "That was Ornsten."
"Oh . . . I thought so."
"Has he come to see you at all?"
He hadn't, but Elsa certainly wasn't going to let Aedan know that. She stared at him quite coldly with her lips pursed together. Aedan broke eye contact first, turning away to wander around Elsa's chamber. It was a simple room, but much better than what Elsa had been treated to over the last month. She had a feather bed and a fireplace that always glowed with small flames. She even had a copper hip bath in the corner, hidden by a cloth barrier from the rest of the room.
"I suppose seeing you now would hurt him too much," Aedan said quietly.
Elsa frowned. Why would seeing her hurt Ornsten? "What do you mean?"
Aedan shrugged. "It's just a thought – pay it no mind." He touched one of the books Elsa had been allowed and flicked through the pages with his finger. "In a way, this is kind of fitting," he said. "The closest I've ever come to death was during my first week in your country, and I'd wager the closest you've ever come was during your first week in mine. I'll bear my scar for the rest of my life." He touched his side gently. "Though I hope you won't be forced to carry yours for long."
"You're not making any sense," Elsa said. He was acting very strange. When he'd come to see her as an envoy he'd been talkative . . . flirtatious, even – not that she had ever been interested in reciprocating his words. The man in front of her seemed troubled like there was something he had come to say, but now he was here he couldn't muster the courage to speak it. Perhaps a nudge would be enough. "Have you come to apologise?"
Aedan started. "Apologise?" he said. "I . . . perhaps I do owe you an apology, although I suspect it will be of little comfort." He sat down heavily and sighed. "I thought I should come to see you – see how you are."
"I am well," said Elsa shortly.
Aedan snorted. "Clearly."
"Why have you come here? You never cared to visit me in all the weeks we were in Arendelle. Why now?"
"I. . ."
Elsa did not let him speak. "Are you here for me to ease your conscience?" She stepped away from her stool and scowled over the Ovelian. "I've heard all about how you've reaped the rewards of my captivity. You robbed me of my home, my family, and my kingdom. I can only pray that one day you will pay the price for what you have done to me. No, you'll get no forgiveness from me, Ser Aedan. Not ever."
Aedan listened to her, face impassive. If he was upset by her words, he gave no sign. "Perhaps I shouldn't have come," he finally said, standing. "I'm glad that you are well, Lady Elsa."
He was almost at the door when he turned back to look at her. "For what it's worth, I am sorry. For everything."
Then he was gone, and Elsa was left alone to stew with her anger.
#
On the morning Elsa's new dresses were to be ready, Madam Sophia's pair of giggling maidservants filled Elsa's bath with steaming water and scrubbed her from head to two until she glowed pink. Queen Emilia's own handmaiden trimmed her nails and brushed and curled her blonde hair so it fell loose down her back in soft ringlets. She brought a dozen or so scents as well, which spawned a very serious discussion between the maidservants about which was the loveliest. They settled on a frosty fragrance that smelled sweetly of wildflowers. They dabbed some of the fragrance on their fingers and touched Elsa behind each ear, on her throat, and then lightly on her collarbone.
Queen Emilia herself arrived with Madam Sophia and watched as the maids dressed Elsa in her new clothes. The shift and small clothes were all made of silk, but the dress itself shone with ivory lined with silver silks. The shirts were long and full, the waist tight enough that Elsa had to hold her breath as they laced her into it. They brought her new shoes as well, silver slippers to match the dress with a short heel that made Elsa feel taller than she was.
"You look very beautiful," Madam Sophia said when she was dressed.
Queen Emilia's gaze was more critical. "A few gems will do, I think. Perhaps a ruby to compliment the red."
But I'm not wearing red, Elsa thought, confused.
The maids fetched a glittering necklace of pale moonstones framing a bloody ruby and hung it around her neck. When they were settled in place the queen nodded in satisfaction and smiled warmly. "You have been blessed, Lady Elsa. Kings would launch a thousand ships for beauty such as yours."
The serving girls nodded their agreement.
Elsa glanced at herself in the mirror and smiled. She did look beautiful in this dress. It was unlike anything she had ever worn before.
"The veil?" Queen Emilia asked Madam Sophia.
Veil?
Madam Sophia brought out a silky, see-through veil of silver and white lace.
And then Elsa knew, and she cursed herself for being so stupid. Dread filled her from her toes to her cheeks. Of course, all these dresses weren't just gifts, this whole time they had been grooming her like a prized cow, and now they were ready to send her off to the bull.
"No," she stuttered. "No. Not this."
Queen Emilia looked sharply at Madam Sophie, who quickly uttered the confused maidservants from the room. "Don't you worry about a thing," Elsa heard the Madam tell them. "Many women are overcome before their weddings. It's best if you wait outside while the queen and I speak to her."
Meanwhile, Queen Emilia came to Elsa's side and helped settle her down on a stool. "I realise this is all very sudden," she said. "But I promise you this is all for the best."
"You can't do this to me!" Elsa's voice cracked. She felt tears build behind her eyelids. "I've done everything you've asked me to. What more do you want from me?!"
"The ice, Sophia. Quickly!" the queen said sharply over her shoulder. Then she smoothed Elsa's hair and said gently. "I know this is hard to come to terms with, and so sudden too. I would not have chosen to do it like this, but the decision did not rest with me. You were never meant to survive your execution, and I fear what my husband would have done if this arrangement had not been made. He is a good man – a reasonable man, but in this he is wrong."
Elsa's breathing came in short, panic gasps. Together, Queen Emilia and Madam Sophia tilted her back and held a cloth-wrapped bundle against her cheeks. Elsa's face numbed almost instantly, and she gasped in surprise.
"I had only known Maximilian a short time before we were wed," Emilia said. "I remember how scared and nervous I was before the ceremony. I hope you can take refuge in the knowledge that your husband-to-be is good and kind and fiercely loyal. I hope you will learn to love each other, as Maximilian and I learned to love."
When Elsa's breathing had settled, Queen Emilia removed the bundled ice and wiped the tears away from her eyes with a cloth square. The maidservants came back inside and helped Madam Sophia settle the silvery veil onto Elsa's head.
Elsa could hardly remember leaving the chamber or descending the steps through the palace, or crossing the yard to where a lovely carriage pulled by a pair of white horses awaited her. Queen Emelia sat with her as the carriage took them through the city. She didn't speak, but Elsa couldn't have heard her even if she had. A dull ringing sound flooded her ears and not even a skittered, panicked through could break through.
King Maximilian himself waited on the steps outside of the cathedral. The king looked resplendent in red and gold. A line of cloaked soldiers separated him from hordes of cheering townspeople flooding the streets. Elsa thought they were angry at first like they were when they had first cheered for her death. Emilia's voice in her ear set her straight.
"They're here to see you," the queen said with a soft smile.
Maximilian descended the stairs to meet them. He kissed Emilia's cheek and smiled warmly at Elsa. "You look very beautiful," he said courteously.
Elsa's tongue felt like it was made of wool. She kept her mouth safely shut.
"As father to the realm, the duty falls upon me to play the part of your father and guide you down the aisle." He leaned close. "I can see in your eyes that this isn't what you want, but it is a fate much better than death, is it not?"
Elsa might have preferred to die at that moment.
"Your bridegroom awaits." Maximilian took Elsa's arm and threaded it through his own. Together, they ascended the steps and walked into the cathedral. The cheers of the crowds followed them inside until the grand doors closed behind them.
The cathedral was a massive structure, with a wide, domed roof, unlike anything Elsa had ever seen before. Ovelian nobles filled the pews, all standing and watching with reservation as if they were unwilling to mimic the roars of the common folk outside. A sensible sigh rippled through them as Maximilian took Elsa down the first steps and onto the carpeted aisle.
A man waited for them on a platform at the end of it. When Elsa saw his face, she felt a fist squeeze her heart and twist her stomach with disgust.
No. Not him. Anyone but him!
Aedan watched them approach the dais, hands clasped beneath a thick crimson cloak. He wore a black velvet doublet decorated with silver scrolls at the collar and lapel to match the silver of Elsa's dress. His stony mask slipped when he saw her, but Elsa couldn't read the emotion that flashed beneath.
He and Maximilian clasped forearms like old friends, then Aedan took Elsa's arm and brought her onto the platform. "You look very beautiful," he told her. Then he hesitated, before saying quickly. "I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you when I came to see you, but Maximilian ordered me to keep quiet. We were afraid you'd try to hurt yourself if you knew."
Would she have? Elsa didn't know. She struggled to feel anything apart from dull resignation at the situation. Her emotions swirled in the depths, locked away until she could find time to process them properly. She'd cry then, she was sure of it.
The bishop waited for them, smiling at them dotingly.
"Come," said Aedan in a bitter voice only meant for her ears. "Let's do our duty." He led her up the final step onto the marriage altar where the bishop waited to join their lives together. An older man Elsa recognized as Lord Edward Beoulve stood on Aedan's side of the altar. He smiled at her reassuringly, then coughed into his fist. Maximilian took position on her side of the chancel, where her father would have stood.
The ceremony passed quickly, dreamlike. Elsa repeated prayers and vows without any passion in her voice. How many times did Anna and I imagine our weddings? In none of her childlike imaginings had Elsa ever thought she'd feel like this. A tear glistened as it fell, and Elsa heard a collective sigh ripple through many of the ladies in the crowd.
They all think I want this, realized Elsa. She wondered how many people in the cathedral knew the truth and kept silent.
When the final songs had been sung, Aedan stood before her and unclasped his crimson cloak. He drew it around her shoulders, careful to not let it catch on her veil.
"You may gaze upon your bride," the bishop said.
Aedan's fingers trembled as he took hold of Elsa's veil and drew it away from her face.
"With this kiss, I pledge to thee my love and take you for my wife," Aedan recited.
"With this kiss, I pledge to thee my love and take you for my husband," Elsa said woodenly. She stood stiffly and did not attempt to move her head.
Aedan closed the distance between them hesitantly. He touched her waist with her fingertips and gently cupped her jaw in his other hand. Elsa could smell the fresh-pressed lilac on his doublet. He bent his head and pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth.
Elsa had to squeeze her fingernails into her palms to keep from pushing him away.
The bishop raised his crook and swept it over their heads. "Under the eyes of God, I solemnly pronounce Aedan of House Beoulve and Elsa, Queen of Arendelle to be man and wife. From this day they are one flesh, one heart, and one soul. From this day and forever more."
#
The wedding feast was held in the royal palace's grand, sweeping ballroom. Over a hundred guests lined the tables and milled about the open, white-tiled space in the center of the room. The white-lion banners of House Beoulve hung prominently overhead alongside the silver crocus of Arendelle decorated on banners of midnight blue.
She and her husband had been ushered to a small table at the head of the ballroom. When they entered the guests burst into another round of thunderous applause. King Maximilian was a whirlwind of energy, laughing loudly as he talked to different guests. He approached the wedding table before anyone else to offer Aedan and Elsa his congratulations.
Aedan grinned back and the two looked like a pair of boys who had just swiped a plate of warm cookies from a window. But as soon as Maximilian's back turned, Aedan reached for the wine.
Her husband drank heavily, and barely touched his plate of food. Elsa picked at her plate before laying her knife down and settling back in her chair. The feast seemed to go on forever. She wanted it to be done, but she also dreaded its end. For when it did, the ladies would escort her to her wedding bed, whisper lewd jokes and advice in her ear, and prepare her for her husband. The men would do the same for Aedan, although he had to successfully perform some outstanding feat to earn the right to his marriage bed. She had heard stories of men who failed their feat and were doomed to wait outside the room all night. Most of those men injured themselves trying to get in.
Elsa only hoped that Aedan would fail his feat. He was certainly drinking enough to dull his senses.
As the food was being cleared away, the musicians began to play. She flinched as Aedan laid his hand over hers. "It's time to lead the dance, my love." His voice dripped sarcasm and smelled strongly of wine.
She let Aedan guide her from her chair and lead her onto the floor. The musicians chose a slow, sweet song that involved little more than swaying from side to side. "I'm not a great dancer," Aedan said, sounding a bit self-conscious.
"No," Elsa agreed, as he nearly stumbled and trod on her foot.
Aedan snorted with amusement and spun her around in a complex step that made the crowd of nobles applaud. Elsa might have smiled and laughed, but the truth behind this farce of a reception hung heavily overhead.
Other guests soon joined them on the floor, and the dancers formed lines for a familiar step Elsa knew was popular in Arendelle. She met Aedan again, briefly, before the dance brought her into the arms of a tall man sporting a neat beard with a long moustache.
"I hoped I would have the chance to speak with you," the man said. "My name is Garlan, Aedan's older brother."
Elsa couldn't spot the resemblance, but it may have been concealed by Garlan's facial hair.
"You'll struggle to spot any similarities," Garlan said as if reading her thoughts. Matrim and I take after our mother, while Aedan is the spitting image of our father in his youth."
"I know that he's a bastard," Elsa told him. "You don't need to change your words to conceal it."
Garlan winced. "He's not anymore, or else he would not have been wed to you." He pursed his lips as if debating a thought. "I heard what happened in Arendelle, and I realize my brother has only shown you the worst side of himself, but I pray you will not hold his actions in Arendelle against him."
Elsa was spun away before she could reply. Rickard Ashaela, who Elsa had once taken as a hostage to ensure Maximilian's word was kept, danced smoothly and spoke to her politely, before giving her to a short lord with patchy hair, and then to Ornsten, who looked very handsome in a dark green doublet.
"Are you well?" Ornsten asked.
"As well as can be hoped," replied Elsa.
"I'm sorry I haven't been to see you since we came to Ovelia," he said. "I didn't trust myself not to tell you about the wedding."
"How long have you known?" Elsa asked.
"It was announced to the nobility a few days ago," Ornsten said.
"I've been stuck in that room for weeks," Elsa said pointedly.
Ornsten grimaced. "I wasn't sure if you'd even want to see me. I . . . I should have stopped Rathmore as soon as I saw him."
"Why didn't you?" Elsa asked. Ornsten didn't reply, but Elsa didn't need to either. She already knew everything she needed to know about Ornsten. He would be kind to her, and perhaps he did genuinely mean it, but he would always do as his king commanded.
"Well, if you think your dances have been awkward so far, you should see who your husband dances with now." Elsa followed Ornsten's eyes and saw Aedan dancing with a honey-haired girl. She was very pretty, with features much like the queen. Her cheeks were tinged with red; in the torchlight, it seemed like her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
"Who is that?" Elsa asked, curious, despite herself.
"Rosalind Ashaela, the queen's sister," Ornsten said. "She and Aedan were to be betrothed."
Elsa would much rather have seen Aedan wed to this girl than herself. The music spun them apart before Elsa could reply. She danced with Lord Beoulve next – her new father-in-law, she realized. He smiled at her with an almost fatherly expression on his aged face, before the dance brought her face-to-face with Maximilian.
Elsa stiffened as his hand touched hers, but Maximilian held it delicately. He was a skilled dancer, much better than any of her other partners had been. As he danced, he spoke effortlessly. "My wife is concerned for you," he said.
"I can't think why," Elsa replied, tight-lipped. "She should not be concerned."
"I see you've found your tongue again," Maximilian commented. "Yet, Emilia is concerned for you. We both saw your tears during the ceremony. They were very moving."
Elsa struggled to keep her face smooth.
"I can't help but feel like this is all a mistake," Maximilian told her. "Every part of me told me to ignore the crowds and see you dead."
"Why do you hate me so much?" Elsa asked.
"I don't hate you, Elsa," Maximilian said, as though the very suggestion surprised him. "But there is too much at stake for me now."
The dance tore them apart before Elsa could reply. It was in reverse order now, and Elsa cycled through her partners until she danced her way back into Aedan's arms. When the music ended, he stepped away from her and retreated to their table and his goblet of wine. Elsa followed him – not because she wanted to, but because she would rather sit in silence with him than remain on that dancefloor a moment longer with the painted, smirking lords.
The musicians quickly struck up another song and the dancing resumed. An hour passed, maybe a little more when Maximilian approached the table with Ornsten, Aedan's brothers and father, and a group of other young lords in tows. "It's time for your feat, brave soul," Maximilian crowed. He looked like he'd been drinking heavily too.
Before Aedan could react (by this stage, Elsa was surprised he could even put one foot in front of the other), the lords seized him and hauled him out of the ballroom. Elsa was left alone for a few pleasant seconds before she remembered what her role in this ceremony was.
Queen Emilia came to the table and held out her hand for Elsa to take. "Come with us," she smiled reassuringly. Elsa had no choice but to take the queen's hand. "Max wanted the veil," Emilia told one of the noble ladies.
"Whatever for?"
Emilia shrugged and picked it up from the table where Elsa had left it. "He didn't say."
One of the ladies volunteered to follow the men with the veil, while the others took Elsa through the palace. Lewd pieces of advice and jokes were whispered in her ears, flooding heat into her cheeks and ears. The queen was one of the worst by far, often saying things that made the other ladies descend in a flurry of giggles.
They took Elsa up to an expansive, circular room near the top of one of the tallest palace towers. It was draughty, but as the ladies assured Elsa, her husband would be along soon to warm her. Together they removed Elsa's wedding gown and wrapped her in a pale, shimmering shroud. They replaced the ruby and moonstone necklace when they were done. The ruby shone between Elsa's breasts. They let down her hair, playing with it until it framed her face and curled on her shoulders.
Soon enough, a chorus of roars and cheering echoed from the stairwell, growing louder.
"That will be the men," Emilia said, ears twitching. "I wonder if our dear Beoulve succeeded in his feat. I cannot imagine him failing, can you?"
"She looks so nervous," one of the ladies said.
"Do you remember your bedding?" another replied.
The lady shuddered. "It was horrible." She looked at Elsa and winked. "It's much better the second time."
"Sometimes the third."
"Or fourth."
The ladies collapsed into drunken giggles.
Then the door burst open and the noble lords filed in, dragging Aedan with them. It looked like they had carried him up the tower. The ladies immediately closed together and formed a protective shield around Elsa. "She's not yours to gawk at!" one of the ladies squawked.
"Where's the fun in that?" Elsa thought it was Garlan who shouted from somewhere near the back. The men laughed.
"Your knight has performed his feat," Maximilian roared. "Behold!" The men pushed Aedan forward until he was presented before the women. His shirt and doublet had disappeared, and his trousers and boots were dripping wet. Elsa's veil was clutched in his hand, as silvery white as it had been when it was taken from her. A self-deprecating half-smile broke on Aedan's face and he rubbed the back of his neck while the ladies eyed him critically.
"What did you do to him?"
"He looks like he's been run through the stables!"
The men laughed.
"Go on then, out with you," Emilia said. "Leave the lovers in peace." Together the women half-ushered, half-pushed the men out of the bedchamber. Their jests and drunken shouts echoed from outside. Emilia remained, standing between Aedan and Elsa with a small smile on her face. "Your bride," Emilia said and glided out of the way.
Elsa clutched the bedsheets to her chest, hiding her body from her husband. There was a hunger in his drunken eyes that frightened her.
"Have fun you two." Emilia closed the door behind her.
Aedan tore his eyes away from Elsa and went to throw open the window on the other side of the lofty chamber. She saw his body shiver from the cold. She looked down at the blankets and clenched her fists together.
She heard Aedan pull off his boots. One light thump followed another. He was handsome – she would have been a fool and a liar to tell herself otherwise. She caught herself watching the supple muscles on his back stretch and felt a twinge of revulsion at the warm desire that seeped through her shield. Perhaps she should feel lucky that she hadn't been given to a wrinkled old man, or a boy barely old enough for his voice to have deepened. The thought didn't bring her comfort, however.
Aedan looked at her again, then looked away quickly when he saw her watching.
He's scared too, Elsa realised. Maybe that should have made her feel . . . something - something other than the hatred that coursed through her body when she looked at him. Before Ovelia came to Arendelle, she couldn't remember hating anyone. The only person that she had ever truly reviled was herself. Then Maximilian invaded her country. Then Aedan killed Ser Lennox and cut off his head. I hate him – I hate all of them. Is he going to touch me? Kiss me? Take me? She'd imagined this moment before too – had awaited it ever since she was old enough to understand what happened during the bedding. She had looked forward to her own one day, but now that it was happening she felt every muscle in her body tense. She dreaded what would happen next. Her insides were a mess of pricking claws and blood-crippling fear. She wouldn't let him take her, she promised herself. She would fight him tooth and nail if he tried.
"You are truly a lovely sight, Queen Elsa." Her husband sat on the end of the bed, watching her.
"I'm not a queen anymore," she told him.
"Of course you are," he said. Then, "Do you know what's expected of us tonight?"
Elsa pressed the sheets to her chin, a gesture that her husband didn't fail to notice. He wanted her – truly, desperately wanted her. She could feel his desire coming off him in waves, could see the physical reaction in his body as he gazed into her eyes.
He drew in a ragged breath. "I've never forced myself on a woman before," he said. "I'll not start now."
Elsa started. "You mean. . .?"
"I've no desire to share an unwilling bed, Elsa," Aedan said. "Max and Emilia be cursed. I won't do it! I won't lay a hand on you, I promise."
"You won't?"
"Not unless you want me to."
"And if I never want you to?"
Aedan's mouth twisted in an amused half-smile. "Then I'll keep my oath to you forever more."