Aureate Fates

35

                             BY PAIN, I AM MADE

                                 —MARISOL—

Marisol and Erik dressed in formal clothing.

She wore a purple gown with sleeves that stopped at her elbows while Erik wore black pants and a finely tailored coat that matched the color of her dress.

Purple, Ziralem's color. She was surprised that Delphinia approved their attire.

The evening sky was pink and plum as it prepared to give way to the night. Erik's crown was so polished that she could see the reflection of the fading light in the jewels of it. Her own crown pressed sharply down on her already pinned hair.

"Are you doing okay?" Erik asked, as she gripped his arm at the front gates of the palace, awaiting their company.

Too quickly, she responded, "Yes. Why?"

Erik brushed a stray hair behind her ear, then spoke into it, "You're trembling, Miss Rosaria-Orvar."

Her teeth were clenched, and she realized her muscles were tight. She looked up to Erik and found that his steady face was inches from hers.

"What if Jack doesn't recognize me?" she asked, quietly, so that the people of the palace who gathered with them could not hear. "In all these layers of finery." It wasn't her.

Or perhaps, this was who she had become now.

Erik didn't falter once. "He will. I'm sure he spent every night thinking about the shape of your face. Queen or not."

Marisol looked down at her gown. Then at her feet, that were now shoved into silver heels. She frowned.

"You look beautiful," Erik said, as if it was the most obvious thing at the moment. He had turned his face ahead, still allowing her to hold onto him.

She very much still felt uneasy from her recent ailment.

"Thank you," she responded, not knowing why his simple compliment had made her feel less on a sharp edge.

"It wasn't a compliment, Marisol," Erik retorted. "Only fact."

A small group of horses, accompanied by royal guards, would transport all ten of Ziralem's chosen citizens. They would take the obstructed paths in the forest because the main road had been forfeited to the recent lake.

Marisol had an unpleasant suspicion that Nyall would be there, too. Right beside Jaak. She didn't know why it bothered her so much to see him. Perhaps because so much had changed since she last seen the healer. She was married now, to Erik Orvar, who had become her friend and strangest comfort.

He might have been cold, cruel, and cursed with an appetite for bloodshed, but she also saw his warmth. She saw his heart, when he agreed to help the women in the palace learn to defend themselves, when he locked Ferland up without a second thought.

And when he bought her a proper wedding ring, one that didn't belong to a dead queen.

Erik was not soft or kind, and that was exactly what she felt was necessary to fulfill her. To know that the cruelest man in the room was her husband, and therefore would never angle his weapon at her. 

It was a comfort she wished to hold onto.

Just then, in the distance, she heard the scuffles of horses as the group made their way to the front gates of the palace. Guards flanked them on all sides. She could spot Jaak's dark curls and wondrous expression. He was looking at the height of the palace. No one else from the group mattered, then, because all she could think about was him.