“How is my little brother?” Dillon wanted to know.
“His father’s son in all ways. He will be a good Dominus one day,” Lara said.
“He is obviously not your favorite,” Dillon teased her.
“I love Taj,” Lara said, “but I find him almost dull. While Zagiri has no magic in her she is lively and full of fun. Taj is very serious, and his grandmother, the lady Persis, encourages him to self-importance. I have spoken to Magnus on this, but he says Taj will outgrow it. I do not think he will. He is very impressed that his big brother is now a king, and hopes to visit you eventually.”
“I will welcome him, and perhaps I can even help him to understand that being a king is not all grandeur, but a great responsibility,” Dillon told his mother.
“I like your Cinnia,” Lara said. “You were fortunate to be able to retrieve her.”
“You know it would have been far more difficult had Sapphira not been her double,” Dillon replied. “But even if she hadn’t I would have taken my wife back.”
“But this way you have avoided conflict with the Yafir until you are ready. When planning a campaign it is always wise to have the advantage,” Lara said. “Ahura Mazda is content believing he has bested you, and you are content because you have Cinnia back. It was a piece of good fortune, and well done, my son.”
“I have placed you and my sisters beneath my protection spell. The Yafir lord is bold, and he will learn of the festivities here in Belmair. I understand him well enough to know he would enjoy stealing one of my sisters in order to prove to me once again that he can do whatever he pleases, and I cannot stop him.”
“But you can!” Lara said. “You have far more power than any lowly Yafir.”
“Aye, Mother, I do,” Dillon agreed with her. “But Ahura Mazda is bitter over Belmair’s treatment of his people. And it was indeed unfair. I will heal this breach between these two peoples because they need each other. Neither can survive without the other although neither realizes it right now.”
The royal castle was filled to capacity by the day before the wedding. Duke Tullio and his sister, Margisia, had arrived. Cinnia had been nervous at their coming, but Dillon had enough of Sapphira’s memories he could give to her; and he made certain they had little time with Cinnia. He had darkened her eyes, too, for while no one else was likely to realize it he knew that certainly Sapphira’s mother would know her own child had dark green eyes, and not light green ones.
The night before the marriage was to be celebrated the Great Hall was filled to capacity with all the nobility of Belmair and their families. A great feast was served. There was wonderful entertainments. And then the king stood up at the high board, and the hall grew silent. “My bride to be has something to say to all of you,” he said. He offered Cinnia his hand and she stood up to face the hall.
She wore a deep pink silk gown with flowing sleeves that had a wide square neckline. The garment was simple in style, and yet it suited her. Her black hair was contained in a delicate gold caul studded with tiny diamonds. “Tomorrow,” she began, “I, Sapphira of Beldane, will marry the king and become your queen. This should not be but for a tragedy we all know, but I shall not speak of on this happy night. I am said to resemble the good sorceress of Belmair, and so in her honor, that you may never forget her, I have this day added her name to mine. I shall be known from this time forward as Cinnia Sapphira.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the hall erupted with clapping. Smiling, Cinnia sat down, and as she did she saw the looks of complete surprise upon the faces of Duke Tullio and his sister, Margisia. Sapphira’s mother leaned over and hissed at her angrily.
“How could you do such a thing?” she demanded.
“It was the right thing to do, madame,” Cinnia said. “The former queen was not my enemy. I did not even know her although we were distantly related by blood. And it made the king happy. Is it not my duty to make him happy?”
Lady Margisia glared, irritated. “You do your family a disservice by this foolish and emotional action. They will not call you Cinnia Sapphira. You will be remembered as Cinnia! Cinnia, a creature made impure by the Yafir!” She shuddered with her revulsion. “I cannot believe you did not think this through.”
“The king wants peace with the Yafir, madame. Is it not better that the unfortunate incident of the king’s first wife be forgotten?” Cinnia said quietly.
“He only chose you because you look like
“He chose me for a mistress. It is I, Sapphira of Beldane, who has made him love me, madame. It is I, Sapphira of Beldane, who will be married to the king tomorrow, and crowned Belmair’s queen. As queen I hold a modicum of power. Be careful you do not offend me lest I banish you from my presence forever. I know who I am, and it matters not to me by what name I am called. Why should it matter to you?”
“You have grown weak,” Margisia sneered.
“Nay, I grow stronger each day because of the power of love. You have no love for me, nor does my uncle. I was a thing to be bartered to the highest bidder. Well, madame, you have gotten the highest price for me. Yet you are not satisfied.”
“A woman is supposed to be of use to her family, and how else can she be but by making a good marriage,” Margisia said.
“Is my marriage to the king not good enough for you, Mother?” Cinnia asked her wickedly. And then she said, “I grow tired of this conversation.” She turned away from the lady Margisia and toward Lara, who was seated on her other side.
Cinnia swallowed a giggle.
“’Tis not my cook, Grandmother,” the king said. “But rather Nidhug’s Sarabeth.”
“And Sarabeth is an artist where food is concerned,” Nidhug told them all.
The evening finally ended with all those in the Great Hall finding their places for a good night’s sleep. The wedding was scheduled to take place at dawn in the gardens between the two castles. Lady Margisia joined Tamary and Anke as they finished dressing Cinnia. Her gown was of delicate white silk. The fitted bodice with its square open neckline was embroidered with dainty crystals, as were the edges of the flowing sleeves and the hem of the gown. The gown flowed gracefully down from her hips about which was a girdle of thin beaten gold decorated with tiny diamond stars. The bride’s hair was contained in a delicate golden caul, with two thin braids on either side of her face. She wore no jewelry.
Lady Margisia, in a better frame of mind this morning, could not help but crow. “You have done it, my darling daughter! I wasn’t certain that you could, but you have! Your uncle and I are very proud of you.”
“Thank you, madame,” Cinnia replied. She could not remember her own mother, but she was certain that lady would have been nothing like Margisia of Beldane.
Duke Tullio came to lead her to the ceremony. “The king requests that you carry this,” he said, handing her a pure white star lily.
The garden was filled with all the guests who grew silent as the duke brought her to stand before the dragon. Nidhug wore her seal of office about her neck. Her front claws were painted pink this day, and studded with flecks of gold and silver. Dillon a waited her, garbed all in snowy-white, the crown of Belmair upon his dark head.
“Cinnia Sapphira of Beldane,” Nidhug began, “will you have King Dillon of Belmair as your husband?”
“I, Cinnia Sapphira of Beldane, accept King Dillon of Belmair for my lord and my husband,” the bride said.
Nidhug turned to Dillon. “Dillon of Belmair, will you have Cinnia Sapphira of Beldane, as you wife?”
“I will,” Dillon answered.
“Then so I pronounce you wed to each other, husband and wife till death,” the dragon said. Then Nidhug took a small gold circlet with a bright diamond star upon it, and placed it upon Cinnia’s head. “And so I crown you queen of
