IWJACM Chapter 19

Her brother used to promise it to Elise so often the promise itself had worn into a habit.

'I'll find you the finest man on the continent for a husband. A man with a gentle heart, who has eyes for no one but you.'

'Is there really such a man, I wonder? No man would want a wife as feeble as me.'

'That's a very humble joke, Elizabetha. What man in this world could possibly refuse you?'

When Andrei piled on every flowery phrase and compliment he could summon to sing her beauty, Elise never knew what to do with herself for embarrassment. He had only ever wanted, she thought, to lift her spirits however he could.

'You'll wear the most beautiful gown there is, and marry with everyone's blessing, and be happy. I'll make it grander, more splendid, than an emperor's wedding. So let's get a little healthier first. Promise me.'

"Do you, Elizabetha Arzeika, take Rezet Kyrstan as your husband, to cherish and love him all your life?"

Elise startled awake out of her reverie.

"Yes. I swear it."

It hadn't even been a few minutes since it started, and already the wedding was racing toward its end.

But for the two people at the center of it, this suited them better. There had been no months to waste in the capital on wedding preparations. At least, not for Elise.

"Do you, Rezet Kyrstan, take Elizabetha Arzeika as your wife, to cherish and love her all your life?"

Rezet held his silence. The Archbishop pressed him sternly for an answer.

"Grand Duke."

"...Yes."

He forced out only that one syllable, then shut his mouth again.

Elise's maid Yvessa had let it slip once that Rezet Kyrstan was, unexpectedly, a devout man.

For a man like that to dare swear a false love before God—it could hardly be anything but an ordeal.

The Archbishop recited on, businesslike.

"As God's representative, I sanction the marriage vows of these two. Let them exchange a kiss of vows, and confirm before God that nothing sworn here was false."

For the first time, Elise looked flustered. Something so obvious in the process—and it hadn't even occurred to her.

The Grand Duke turned toward her. Elise turned her own body a beat late.

She whispered to him, pitched too low for the Archbishop to hear.

"Just make it look like a kiss, my lord."

With so many eyes watching, they couldn't skip it outright. If she angled her head just right, it would look like a kiss even if their lips never actually touched.

But then it occurred to her that even a fake kiss might be something he'd be reluctant to initiate himself. Of course. No one, she thought, would want to kiss a woman like her.

Better, then, if she went to him first. The rumors already had her a seductress anyway—what would even be so strange about looking a little forward now? Elise made a rough guess at the difference in their height and rose up onto her heels.

Rezet fixes his gaze on her lips and watches the woman approaching him.

Word of this marriage had spread past the palace walls and through the whole capital in an instant. Rezet knew exactly how the world was talking about Elizabetha Arzeika.

The beauty who seduced the war demon. A woman hiding a cunning temptress's nature under an angel's shell.

Was he truly bewitched?

The princess tilted her head slightly to one side—a motion natural enough for someone who supposedly knew nothing of men at all.

Elise, silent, brushed her lips against the corner of his closed mouth—touching, not quite touching—the briefest graze. Then she pulled away, hurried.

Something twisted in Rezet.

'If you're going to do it, do it properly.'

He wound a hand around the soft nape trying to pull back, gripped it, then went straight for her lower lip and drew it into his mouth.

It was impulse. It was instinct, too.

What this marriage bought him was absolution—permission to dare take Argan's princess however he pleased. If his body stirred for her, there was no reason left to hold back.

Elise, who'd been biting down hard on the inside of her lip, sucked in a small breath.

Her small teeth had been biting hard into the tender flesh. Rezet tore that scrap of skin away for himself, claimed it whole. Her mouth, wet inside, was nothing like her cool skin—hot, and soft as something ripe.

Elise's heels, which had risen so high, slowly came back down to the floor. She seemed startled, but she didn't turn her face away, and she didn't push him off.

That same wildflower scent tangled up, dizzying, in the breath they shared.

Only once Rezet finally, with effort, drew his mouth away did she duck her head, flustered.

The princess's earlobes had gone scarlet red. It was nothing like the woman who'd demanded he share her bed every other night. Her chest, wrapped in that plain white gown, rose and fell hard.

Rezet's gaze traced her figure without his meaning to.

The dress wrapped both sides of her chest like flower buds, leaving the soft curve of the valley between them completely bare. He had no idea who'd put her in that trashy thing, but it was hardly fit for a solemn occasion. If the aim was to stir a man's desire to peel the dress off her like petals unfolding, he could at least understand the logic.

'She's this beautiful—who wouldn't feel the urge.'

The conclusion arrived in an instant: it would be better to keep the princess hidden from the world, so that no eyes but his own would ever land on her. The chill that had frozen Rezet's face finally, faintly, thawed.

The Archbishop recited the marriage declaration in his businesslike tone.

"As these two have sworn before God and these witnesses to become husband and wife, I now pronounce this marriage complete."

Not knowing at all what look the Grand Duke had just been giving her, Elise pressed her palm flat against her thundering heart. She barely managed to stop herself from touching the lips he'd claimed so thoroughly.

It was the first time she'd ever kissed a man. Her first kiss hadn't been romantic, hadn't made her heart race. Just hot. Damp, heavy.

The soft, brief contact that had lingered and vanished seemed to have left an ember behind, just inside her lips.

"With that, the officiant's duties are concluded."

The Archbishop closed his declaration. The wedding—which had been a first, in every sense, for Elise—came to an end with an almost heartless speed.

The Grand Duke and Lothier's knights planned to leave for the territory immediately. Noyre suggested, lightly, that Rezet and Elise stay at least for a banquet—but Rezet cut him off in a single stroke, refusing outright.

"The territory has already gone unattended too long. Even leaving now, the carriage ride alone will take ten days. I intend to depart as soon as possible."

"Cold as ever."

Noyre clicked his tongue, but he didn't press them to stay any longer than that. Even he understood there was nothing to be gained by keeping the princess here any longer than necessary.

Noyre offered Elise a farewell in a tone of feigned warmth.

"Take care of yourself, then. See to it that I never come to regret having spared your life."

The Emperor's greedy eyes dropped to Elise's flat stomach. If he ever found out nothing at all was growing in her womb, he looked ready to snatch up a blade and hack her open himself, right there.

'If the Emperor ever finds out, I'll be dead on the spot.'

A chill ran down her spine. Elise prayed, fervently, that the Emperor would never make an unannounced visit to Lothier.

As they left the chapel, Rezet tore the robe from the waiting lady-in-waiting's hands as if snatching stolen goods, and threw it over Elise's shoulders himself.

Yanok Sihat was still lingering in Van Yela. He had insisted, obstinately, on attending the wedding as well, and Rezet had refused him outright. And still the barbarians, who plainly didn't know the meaning of giving up, had made camp right in front of the chapel like a siege.

Rezet pulled the hood up over Elise's head, then tied the cord tight to hold it in place.

"There's nothing to be gained by lingering here, so I intend to depart immediately. Is that acceptable to you?"

"It makes no difference to me."

Her fist-small face was more than half hidden beneath the hood. All that showed was her mouth and chin, and even that left Rezet unsettled. Her lips—unusually damp, a vivid scarlet today of all days—parted, hesitant.

"My lord...?"

Before Elise could even voice her question, an unpleasant voice cut in.

"Knew something felt off—and here you two have already gone and fucked, is that it?"

Yanok Sihat swaggered up, insolent, and looked Rezet over head to toe. Elise's shoulders flinched, stiff, the instant she recognized his voice.

The swelling and bruises still hadn't faded from Yanok's face. The night he'd crept to the princess's cell, some thug had struck him out of the dark hard enough to crack his jawbone—and now his already menacing face looked all the more so for it.

Yanok sneered.

"Word's going around you're knocked up, Princess."

"……."

"So whoring yourself out is fine, long as it keeps you breathing. I bet Argan's own emperor would've loved to see this. Wouldn't he?"

Elise's body was almost entirely blocked from view behind Rezet. Rezet reached a hand back and tried to push the princess toward Ruben. But she flinched instead and pressed herself closer against him.

It was instinct—seeking out the safest place available. Without meaning to, she caught a fistful of his cloak.

Rezet caught her wrist and tore it off him. His grip was cold enough to be cruel, and Elise let out a small, pained gasp.

"...Ah."

"Ruben. Escort her."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Rezet jerked his chin at the knights standing behind him. Ruben hurried forward and neatly inserted himself between Elise and Yanok.

"Shall we? The carriage is waiting."

Elise took a hesitant step. She knew, in her head, that she shouldn't cling like a child—but her eyes kept chasing after the Grand Duke anyway. Among all these people who weren't on her side, he was still the safest one.

But the man who had just shoved her away so coldly didn't spare her another glance.

Rezet held his ground until Elise and the knights had vanished completely from view. Nearly all of the bullshit Yanok Sihat was yammering, he let pass by unheard.

"Ha. Just gonna ignore me, is that it?"

Yanok bugged his eyes out and jabbed a finger straight into Rezet's chest.

"Grand Duke. You dig something up, is that why you snatched that woman first?"

"Found out something, is it."

"What do you know about Elizabetha Arzeika? Did the princess confess it to you—the reason Argan's emperor cherished his sister more than he cherished himself?"

There was no mistaking the probing tone in Yanok's voice.