Prince Dutiful had remained upon the dais with his mother. Now he looked down on her and no one in the room could doubt that he beheld her with delight. He did not say a word to either Chade or the Queen. Nor did he bother with the two steps, but leaped straight to the floor. At sight of him, Elliania threw back her hood, and then ran to meet him. They met in the center of the Great Hall. As they clasped hands, her clear and joyous voice carried. “I could not wait. I could not wait for winter and I could not wait for spring. I am here to marry you and I will do my best to live according to your ways, strange though they are.”
The Prince looked down at her. I saw his face light with joy, and then I saw his hesitation. I saw him groping for what he must say, for what was correct for him to say before all his gathered people. Elliania looked up at him, and the light in her face began to dim as Dutiful attempted to compose a careful reply.
I Skilled fiercely. Tell her you cannot wait, either. Tell her you love her and that you will wed her right away. Love that comes so far and at such a price should not be put off! A woman needs to be loved now.
Chade's face froze in a smile of horror. The Queen stood, and I knew she held her breath. Peottre stood motionless, and his face was very still. I knew he prayed the Prince would not hurt or humiliate the girl.
Dutiful spoke loud and clear. “Then we shall wed, within the week. Not just before my dukes, but before all gathered here. We shall wed, and we shall bring in the harvest as man and wife. Would that please you?”
“El and Eda, the Sea and the Land!” Bloodblade shouted. “The Buck and the Narwhal! At the turning of the year. Good fortune to us all!”
“So it would be!” Peottre cried out and a sort of wonder came into his face.
“That would please me.” I saw the words formed by her lips, but did not hear them. Noise had erupted all about me as hundreds of tongues clattered at once. Chade closed his eyes for a moment, then put on a smile and looked with apparent fondness at his impulsive, impetuous prince. Yet the secret sourness of his gaze was defeated and nullified by what shone in Elliania's eyes. If she had ever needed confirmation of her decision, Dutiful had given it. I wondered at what cost to herself and to her clan she had come here. The garment she wore bore both narwhals and bucks, and I doubted she had made it entirely herself. So I deduced some maternal support of her decision.
“They're getting married this week?” Patience asked me, and I nodded in response.
“This will be a Harvest Fest to remember,” she observed. “Best send runners out about the countryside. No one will want to miss this. We haven't had a proper wedding in Buckkeep since Chivalry and I married here.”
“I don't think this will be one now. They've prepared for Harvest Fest, not a wedding. Cook's going to be very upset!” Lacey warned us.
She was right, of course. I was able to retreat from the chaos I'd created, and actually found a few hours of sleep that night holed up in the workroom. I fear few others did. The servants worked through the night. It was fortunate they had the feast for the harvest well begun and the castle already decked with autumn garlands. Fortunate too that the Prince's dukes and duchesses had already convened for Harvest Fest, for it would have caused a greater furor if the Prince's haste to wed had caused one of his high nobles to miss the ceremony.
I almost missed my peephole the next day. I stood through the lengthy harvest ceremony in the back row of the Prince's Guard. Longwick had replenished our depleted ranks, yet even so I was painfully aware of the absence of those who had gone to find the dragon with us. Riddle stood beside me, and I think he felt it as keenly as I did. Yet for all that, there was satisfaction in watching our prince and his bride.
They were arrayed as the King and Queen of the Harvest. Long had it been since that old custom was observed, for long had it been since we had had a royal couple in residence. The seamstresses must have worked throughout the night. Elliania wore her cloak of narwhals and bucks, and somehow a doublet that matched it perfectly had been created for the Prince. Dutiful's simple coronet had been replaced with an ornate harvest crown, and in that I saw Chade's subtle hand, for he displayed the Prince as a crowned king before his dukes. Ceremonial it might be, yet it could not fail to leave an impression. Elliania was crowned, as well. Whereas the Prince wore a crown of gilded antlers, hers featured a single narwhal horn enameled in blue and trimmed in silver. When they danced together, alone in the center of the sanded floor, they looked like a couple from a legend sprung to life.
“Like Eda and El themselves,” Riddle observed, and I nodded to myself.
