Chapter 151: Aella’s Journey
Aella had expected endless teasing from Matthias when she arrived for the pre-wedding vigil. But the statuesque man seemed to be behaving, and his smiles were strangely sincere.
“You are well-suited to each other,” he said, sipping the wine Bassiano had provided and nearly spitting it out when the spice of it hit his tongue. “Egads, woman, you could have warned me!” He coughed a couple of times.
“Everything is spicy here,” she replied with a shrug that was practiced, modelled after how she had seen her wife shrug. It was made to look effortless, calm. Cruesa chuckled, another surprisingly sincere sound.
“To his credit, cousin, he has not been dancing to the music of another culture for months.” She took a sip of her tea, something floral smelling, and nibbled on biscuits that were full of dried fruit. “But if anyone is well-equipped to live among such a spicy people, it's you.” Aella wasn’t sure if her cousin was complementing her or not, and so chose to not comment. She wasn’t her wife, to dance on the edge of the blade of politics. “Your heir and her fiance, they seem sweet, if ill-educated.”
“They are plenty educated in the stars and navigation,” Aella replied sullenly. She crossed her arms but did not glare at her cousin. She was, after all, still Queen. Cruesa laughed again.
“That is true enough. They led the Knave through the worst storm I have ever seen.” Aella dropped her arms, and, desperate for something to do with her hands, picked up a treat, one of the spicy meat dishes she had actually come to enjoy. It was a spice-coated, shredded goose meat that was wrapped in dried, sweet fruit called Dragon’s Mercy.
They chatted about things in the kingdom, about two of her second cousins who had recently also gotten married, young things at nineteen and twenty two. Aella told them about what had happened to Camina. Matthias actually cried, not his usual, loud sobs, but with tears on his face running silently down. Cruesa bowed her head as she listened, no doubt thinking of her own daughters who were a year older and a year younger than Camina had been.
“That explains much,” she said softly. “He was not the warm man that Matthias had described. The grief must be drowning him.”
“It will define his Kingship.” The words tumbled out of her, and she winced, wanting momentarily to shake the Moon. “Apologies, your Majesty,” she looked at her cousin, who was watching her with hard eyes.
“Am I moon-blooded as well?” she asked, her tone light, airy and without a drop of the earlier sincerity.
“I am not sure,” Aella replied softly. “To be certain, you’d have to sleep beneath the new moon.” She paused, and felt the waxing power from the Moon. “It may be best if you do so here, where there are no.. no prying eyes.”
“Spies,” the Queen clarified with a slight smile. Her eyes were no longer hard. “You’ve been learning.”
“Nereida is a good teacher.”
They shifted to lighter topics, speaking about the children and their lessons, their lives. Matthias cooed as she described them at the proposal, all dressed to match. Cruesa had left her eldest daughter in charge, a trial to see how she would handle the responsibilities of the throne.
“I intend to be here for years to come, but I would be remiss if I did not test her. And this has given me the chance to restore our trade agreements and perhaps make new ones.” She looked pleased, though Aella could not imagine that the bureaucracy would be enjoyable. “And two of our ships will be here in three months. I’ll not head back in a single ship, not when the forsaken demons practice star reading.”
The night passed, and Aella was pleased to hear stories of her cousins’ children as they were growing and learning. Matthias, of course, was happy to tell them stories of his own exploits, not the ones he usually shared, but of secret diplomacy meetings, where he negotiated with his winning smile, getting the best for his crew, earning the nickname of the Golden Boy. The only ones who seemed immune to his charm were the Peri merchants he had dealt with. She learned that the front had been quiet as of late, as if the demons were concentrating their efforts elsewhere.
“The Gnomes’ envoy suggested they, too, have seen fewer demons about their waters.”
“I dislike that,” Aella said, downplaying her sudden, visceral concern. Were they coming here? Had the demons figured out that they were waking the dragons?
“It’s hardly ideal,” Matthias admitted. “I like knowing when and where they will strike better than being in the dark.”
“Enough,” Creusa said sharply. “It is a trouble for another day. The only thing on your mind now, Aella, should be getting dressed.” Aella flushed at that. “Will you permit me to dress you? I know it is forward, requesting that I take the place your mother should hold… but…” She smiled, a soft, sincere and kind expression. Aella swallowed her pride. She had intended to dress herself. But a small part of her wanted the company, wanted to feel like she had a family.
“I… It would be my honour,” she replied, her voice surprisingly low as she fought off emotions. Dragon’s fuzzy beards she was soft now.
They retired to the dressing chamber, Matthias leaving with a flounce in his step.
“And worry not, darling, I will reign in my radiance so as not to outshine your blushing bride!” Aella scowled at the door as he disappeared.
“He is a little much, isn’t he?” Creusa said with a little half smile. “Come, you should have no more thoughts of any man on your wedding day.”
It was beyond strange to have the Queen herself wait on her, helping her dress as if the Queen was the servant. She spoke to Aella softly of things her mother had said to her on her wedding day, a sad, wistful smile as Creusa remembered her long gone mother. She asked for permission to be the last to do Aella’s hair before she took a wife, and Aella agreed softly. She felt strangely content, and thoughts of demons, dragons and danger floated out of her mind as she felt kinship with her cousin more strongly than she ever had.
Aella dressed in her military uniform, her cousin, her Queen, inspecting her with a grin. Her hairs was done not in her simpler, neat braids, but in a complex weave of braids that sat like a crown on her head, a style similar to what the Queen typically wore. Creusa had even used some of her own jeweled hairpieces in the process.
“You should have something from family,” Creusa said softly, “so this is my contribution… and this…” she retrieved something from a chest, and slowly unwrapped brown paper to reveal dark blue fabric. Aella’s breath hitched. She had never seen the sash in person, but the gold trimmed, embroidered fabric was familiar. She had seen it in her father’s portrait growing up. Her face was suddenly wet with tears she did not recall shedding as her cousin placed the sash over her shoulder and fascined it in place. Aella tried to stutter out a thanks, but found her voice had abandoned her. There was something else in the parcel too, and Aella swallowed.
Her parents’ wedding bands.
Cruesa had brought her parents wedding bands. Aella took them with trembling hands.
“I know you likely have your own now,” Cruesa whispered. “But these should have been yours long ago. I am sorry my mother kept them.” They were silver, fine and beautifully etched with waves and ships. Blue sapphires twinkled in the firelight.
“I remember my mother wearing this,” she said, looking at the smaller of the two. Her voice was soft. “Thank you, Cruesa.” She put them in the velvet pouch with the bracelet she had purchased for Nereida. There was no reason she couldn’t give her wife two bracelets, after all. Cruesa offered her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes, and Aella took it happily.
Together, they headed to the throne room. Aella was to process down the aisle, once given the signal. Cruesa left her to take her place at the front, as she was now helping Basiano give the vows. No one had been married by two reigning monarchs in the last hundred years, Creusa had told her with a teasing lilt. And then she was gone, and Aella was alone. She could hear the crowds beyond, all seated in chairs, voices raising and falling in a hundred conversations that rose and fell like waves. There were at least a hundred guests, almost all nobility, save her officers who had all been invited. She danced nervously from one foot to the other, until Epelda appeared.
The young woman’s thin, flyaway hair had been tamed into several small, tight braids, with yellow silk lilies woven into it. She was wearing a loose, whimsical dress that flowed as she moved, her wings out behind her that was the same colour as the lilies in her hair. She looked radiant. The bracelets on her wrist the only thing that was hers, and yet she seemed completely at home in the billowing dress. Her dress was lower cut than Aella wanted, but she knew it was the style in court, and that the sylph needed her wings free.
“Mom,” Epelda signed. Her smile took over her whole face, and for a moment she was the young girl that had stowed away. “It’s time.”
Epelda stopped to fuss with Aella’s collar, before she hugged her tightly. Aella smiled, and followed her daughter into the throne room. The sea of people was immediately overwhelming. There were so, so many faces that Aella could not see anyone that she knew. The people hushed, their conversations ceasing as the doors were pushed open. Music began to drift through the air, soft flutes and clarinets, a harp and some bells. The scent of perfume nearly overtook Aella, as different scents tried to compete for her attention. She stepped on dried flowers, adding to the overwhelming odors. Her heart hammered into her chest, her palms were sweaty and she suddenly wished she had been allowed a sword.
“Declare,” Epelda signed at her, her movements sharp and quick, cuing her to what she had been supposed to say on entry. Aella felt the heat in her cheeks, but she cleared her throat and began to speak.
“I come to declare my love to my bride,” Aella called out, the start of the marriage ritual. “Where is she?”
“She is with family,” Basiano’s voice rumbled from the front of the throne room. “Come, and join her. Come and join us.” Aella took a few steps forward, crunching still more dried flowers as she went. Some old woman that Aella was certain she’d never seen before was weeping unashamedly and loudly. A child asked, in a high little whisper, if they could be done yet. All eyes were on Aella as she stepped on dried flowers and fancy carpeting until she was standing before the throne’s platform. Epelda took her place beside her, the young woman glaring out at the folks gathered as if daring any of them to speak. The boys were done up in identical outfits; yellow vests and caps with lilies, clean, white tunics and beige pants. They looked like the picture of innocence as they stood between Basiano and Creusa, their smiles bright.
Once at the platform, Aella bowed, first to Creusa, then to Basiano.
“Do you come here of your own will?” Creusa asked.
“I do.”
“Bring the bride!” Basiano thundered. Egaz and Alejo jumped, and then hurried behind the curtain to bring their mother forward. They bumped into each other, and Egaz fell over. Alejo stopped to help him up, and the crowd behind began chuckling and “ohhing” at them. Aella almost turned around to glare at the crowd, when the curtains parted, and Nereida stepped out.
The world faded away, and it was, for a moment, just her and Nereida. The siren was dressed in a deep purple velvet dress, with a deep red corset on the outside, both covered in black embroidery. Her veil, made of purple lace, sat atop her head, covering her hair but not her face. A coronet of flowers, pink, yellow and white, sat over the veil. The dress sat tight to her curves, and she looked absolutely stunning. Aella’s mouth fell open and then she grinned at her beautiful bride. Their colours, together, not one over the other. She had to be wearing six or seven petticoat layers for the dress to sit like that.
“I love you,” Aella mouthed at her wife. Nereida grinned at her, tears in her stormy eyes.
“Princess Nereida Dama D’Igna, do you take this woman to be your bride, before the eyes of the King, the Kingdom, the Moon and the Ocean?” Cruesa asked.
“I do.” Nereida stepped up next to Aella, her eyes shining with happy tears as she spoke.
“Do you, Grand Admiral Countess Aella Marina Kyverna, take this woman to be your bride, before the eyes of the King, the Kingdom, the Moon and the Ocean?” Basiano asked.
“I do.”
“Princess Nereida, as you give unto your wife a bracelet, as per the customs of the Selianaks, give unto her your vows.” Nereida smiled as her brother spoke. Aeljo came up with the bracelet, little Egaz by his side.
“Aella,” Nereida began, fumbling with the clasp. “I swear to choose to love you. In the darkest nights, I will look to you to light the way, as the Moon shines in the sky. In the depths of grief, I will comfort you. In fair weather and foul, in darkness and in light, I will choose to love you. Now and until I draw my last breath, no matter what storms may come.” She slipped the bracelet around Aella’s wrist, and clasped it shut. “My darling Aella, will you take all the Ocean is offering you this day and always?”
“I do,” Aella whispered. Cruesa cleared her throat, and so Aella repeated, louder, for those watching, “I do!”
“Grand Admiral Aella Kyverna, as you give unto your wife a bracelet, give unto her your vows,” Creusa commanded. Aella smiled warmly, staring into Nereida’s eyes. She lifted her hand up to touch her cheek, which was likely a breach of etiquette, but she did not care.
“Nereida,” she spoke her wife’s name like a prayer, her heart hammering as she lost herself in the siren’s stormy eyes. “You are the love of my life. I would give up the sea for you, if you asked it of me. I swear to choose to love you, cherish you, above all others, save our children. I’m not a woman of fancy words, but I hope you know that truly, I swear to confide in you, to love you and to be with you, no matter the storm. My love, Nereida, will you take all the Moon is offering you, this day and always?”
“I do,” Nereida’s voice was clear and loud, even as tears leaked from her eyes.
“Then by my power as King.”
“And mine as Queen.”
“We,” the two royals continued, in perfect unison, “declare you married before the eyes of the Ocean, the Moon and the Stars themselves.”
“This is where you kiss!” Alejo shouted as he bounced on his toes. People laughed, but Aella did not care. She looked into her wife’s eyes. She knew Nereida was only expecting a quick kiss, but Aella leaned in and kissed her deeply, trying to communicate to her wife how happy, how loved, how perfect she felt in this moment. And by the way her wife melted into the kiss, Aella was quite sure that she’d managed to get her point across.