Rosie shook out the white gown. Loosening the dirt clinging to her skirts. Standing, she cupped Riaura’s chin and lifted it. “Smile child. Now you won’t have to be alone any longer. You look like an angel…and I should know.”

Riaura’s eyes rose briefly at the cryptic statement.

The older woman released her, tone turning brisk as she led the way. “Come. Let us go.”

They returned to the encampment to find it in chaos.

Peasants scurried from every corner, hurrying from tent to tent. Arms laden with blankets, pots, and goods which they crammed into already overflowing carts. Other men, soldiers, weighed down with swords and daggers, broke down the remaining tents.

“Who are all these people?” She asked Rosie. “Why are they following him?”

“Not your concern.”

“Where did he find warriors?” Riaura asked. Refusing to move further. “Battling?”

“Battling!” Rosie gave her a stunned look. “Only evil resides in those barren deserts.”

Riaura gave her a reprimanding look. “We both know what he is. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

Rosie’s brown brows shot nearly up to her salt and pepper hair. “Clearly, you do not.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll know soon enough.” Rosie assured. “When you’re wed, I’ll insist he tell you everything.”

Riaura’s dazed eyes moved from Rosie to the clamoring in the camp. “Wh-what are they doing?”

“Preparing to move into the Keep, Child.”

“The devil they will!” Riaura gasped in outrage.

“Your intended wishes to see you in his tent.” A man approached to tell them.

Abruptly there was life in Riaura’s eyes. Making them vibrant with emerald fire. “Well my intended can rot!”

Riaura hiked up her skirts before Rosie could blink and stalked past her.

Headed back toward the Wake. The hell if she thinks so!

Rosie opened her mouth to stop her. But movement next to Rosie, stalking the bride-to-be caught her eye. Her jaw snapped shut and a slow smile turned her lips. “Get her.”

A hand on Riaura’s arm momentarily startled her from her warpath.

His grip was iron but tone soft and coaxing. “Come, Riaura. Talk with me awhile.”

Let’s get this over with so we can attempt a peaceful ceremony.

She gnashed her teeth tugging her wrist several times but unable to dislodge her grip.

It’ll be a lengthy tirade. He knew.

Soon they were within his tent. Furs covering the hard-packed earth. “I don’t want trouble from you, Little Queen.”

“Then you picked the wrong bride…Due feel free to select another!” She hissed.

Face expressionless, he attempted patience. “Shall I explain something to you?”

“Do I have a choice in listening?”

“No.”

She cocked her head at him. Crossing her arms expectantly. Lips pursed.

Like she’s swallowed a lemon.

“You’ve already agreed to marry me, or you forfeit everything. Let’s produce some logic shall we?” He looked down his nose haughtily “Say you make this day a humiliation for me… How do you suppose I’ll react when the wedding party wants to scamper up behind us and watch this marriage be consummated?”

Her eyes widened. Speechless in horror, she stared at him aghast. “Don’t let them! You can’t. You wouldn’t!”

“I would. It’s ritual.” He smiled mildly.

She swallowed roughly. “And if I do portray the proper dignity expected of a bride?”

“I’ll ensure no one is there but you and me. For us to fight at whim or love as necessary. Whichever you prefer to engage in first.”

“Ha!” She scoffed. “There’s only one I’ll be engaging in.”

Unless I can persuade you otherwise.

“We’ll see…”

Her jaw moved, but no sound emerged.

“A true queen would want to act proudly for her people.” This last jab hit its mark.

“How dare you question my efficiency as a queen!”

“I don’t question it.”

I know you’ve been efficient because of your faith in Danbury.

“Good then.” She lifted her chin. “Tell me something?”

“Ask.”

What now?

“Who’re all these warriors that follow you?”

If she knew they were Rebels, she’d find a way to flee this camp now.

“That’ll be the first thing I tell my new wife.” He said solemnly. Then he left the tent.

She scowled at his retreating back. “You’re incapable of delivering a straight answer!”

She swore. Stepping from the tent, she was all glittering anger and suppressed grace. Gliding across the camp, it didn’t take her long to catch up to Alazar’s relaxed stride. Her fingers snatching her smoothly muscled bicep. She jerked him to a halt.

He turned from her grip.

When she caught up to him, she shouldered him and walked by. Glancing over a pearl-clad shoulder to glare daggers at him.

He watched her proud back as she walked away with a bemused expression. What does her preceding my arrival prove?

He cocked his head for a better view as his gaze drifted over her backside. Glancing around the encampment, he made sure there were few witnesses to his perusal.

Only one watched. Standing stock-still amidst the movement around her she was immobile, like the chaos couldn’t touch her…

Not disturbing the flow of people as though she were a statue.

The woman called Rosie winked at him then. Turning, she joined the three other women near the trees. Together they vanished into the mull of activity.

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