“Mhm, I’m sure he did,” Katryna joked.
Edrick wiped away his embarrassed smile, straightening up his shoulders and composing himself.
“M’lady, your aunt Rashel sent me to come collect you. Your father has awoken, and the physicians have finished treating him for the night. You can go see him now.”
Just like that, the ache in Katryna’s stomach returned.
Father.
“Thank you, Edrick,” Katryna said with a nervous gulp. “Trish, will you see to cleaning up our supper, please?”
“Of course. Good luck, Kat.”
Chapter 9 - Bleeding
Wesley Seynard sat on an uncomfortably lumpy, cushioned chair at the head of a table that sat much of his blood family and newlywed’s family. He and his new wife were at the highest point of the entire feast hall, like the crown on the head of a ruler.
All eyes were on them. All conversations were about to the ceremony, the wedding vowels, and the beautiful new couple.
It was nauseating. Wesley hated the attention. He couldn’t wait for the night to be over.
Sweat dripped from his brow. The feast hall was hot. Hearths raged all around the room, candles hung from metal chandeliers, and the enclosed space was packed with hundreds of guests, all drinking, feasting, and dancing.
It was the largest room in the entire palace of Chateau Cardell, and it was full of strangers and sycophants.
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Wesley flicked his long, brown hair back. His ocean eyes stung. His ears were drowning in the sound of conversation, clatter, and music.
Just a few more hours to go, then I can be rid of these fools.
Guests had arrived from across Alyria to attend his wedding. Blacktrees and Seynards comprised most of the attendees. The guests mostly comprised of highborns, nobles, lords, and barons from across the kingdoms. King Justen Mannering of Stonebridge, a boy of just twelve years. Baron Artima Lowe of Veridia, the ‘Old Bear’, as he was known. Baroness Emilia Erma of Fentis. Too many faces to identify and names to remember all at once.
Platters of roasted chicken, juicy venison, steamed vegetables, and hot, baked breads sat before Wesley untouched. The foods, while mostly Caldaean-grown, were plated on expensive serving dishes and silver platter trays crafted in Dawnhill, one of Caldaea’s vital trade partners.
Anytime Wesley saw wares from the neighbouring kingdom, it filled him with loathing. That said, he ironically disregarded the fact that the wine he had been sipping at all night was poured into an Ashen-crafted goblet.
The captain of the city watch, Ser Isec Batir, approached the newlywed’s table, shadowed by several soldiers from the watch. The brutish man was tall, clad in shining armour and had a neatly trimmed beard. He bowed to the couple to pay his respects.
“I wish you a lifetime of happiness, my prince and princess.”
Wesley rolled his eyes but made sure not to let the captain see. “Yes, yes,” he said, unamused.
Isec had something held behind his back. “I would like to present you a gift, from all of us at the city watch.”
“Oh?” Wesley said, raising an eyebrow.
Isec presented a dagger before the prince. It’s fresh-forged blade was polished and shining. The handle, while nothing exquisite, looked to be expensive resin with golden crossguards.
“Master Deniter of Ashen is one of the finest blacksmiths on the continent, my prince,” Isec said proudly. “Had this poignard specially designed and crafted for you. Sharp enough to cut through bone, Deniter boasted!”
Wesley nodded. Despite having no kind feelings towards the captain, he could not deny that it was an incredible gift.
“I’ve got to say, you did well, Batir. It is a fine gift,” Wesley said, keenly taking the weapon. He slipped the dagger into his belt before waving the men away, knocking over his goblet and spilling his wine all over.
“Servant, another,” Wesley said, pointing at the fallen goblet.
An Anai slave promptly wiped up the mess. The red wine flowed elegantly like a waterfall of incoming relief for Wesley.
He took another sip before feeling a soft hand grab his. He looked over at his new wife, a beauty named Ciana Blacktree, from the royal family in Ashen. Ciana was the most sought-after princess in all the kingdoms.
Young, fertile, rich, and with a powerful name.
Ciana smiled at her new husband with white teeth and cherry lips. On her head sat a traditional ornate headdress, stitched with jewels and gems of all colours. Her ebony hair was tightly braided with silk ribbons and flowed out to her shoulders from underneath the stunning headdress.
Wesley could not deny the princess’s beauty.
But he had only ever had one woman on his mind, and it was not Ciana.
Ciana leaned over and kissed his unshaven cheek. “Everything alright, my love? You seem tense.”
‘Love?’ We have known each other for a day.
“Everything is fine,” Wesley replied with a forced smile. “Just tired is all.”
Someone approached the grand table. It was Wesley’s father, Tobius, with a sleazy grin across his face.
“Not too tired, I hope,” Tobius chuckled. He kissed his daughter-in-law’s outstretched hand as a courtesy, although appeared to enjoy the gesture a little too much. “We expect the princess to have a son or daughter in her belly by the morning!”
All those around who heard King Tobius’s comment laughed and applauded in support. A pregnant bride on the wedding night was one of Wesley’s duties. He felt his cheeks grow red.
Tobius smiled pompously at the attention his comment received. His bronze crown sat unevenly atop his bald head.
Wesley and Ciana squirmed awkwardly in their seats at the thought of being intimate with one another. They had only just met. She looks young enough to be a child.
Tobius staggered away, sipping his wine.
“Um, if you don’t mind me asking. How old are you exactly, my lady?” Wesley whispered into his wife’s ear.
She leant
