‘Beneath the eyes of the gods,’ the priest said, ‘and before these witnesses, do you come together to be bound by law, by faith and by heart?’
‘I do,’ the prince said.
Meilyrmust havedied in that street. ‘I do.’
‘Then speak unto each other the vows of binding, that you may keep, and hold, until death divides what life shall not.’
He had to do this for Celyn.
‘I, Osian, son of Oswald, Second Heir to the House of Arden-Draca, Prince of Khaim and Cyngalon and Duke of the Splintered Sea, take you as my lawful husband. To keep and to maintain from this day forward, for better and for worse, in wealth and in absence. In my living and in my dying. Until death do us part.’
Meilyr did not know how he made it through the words, how he even remembered them. ‘I, Meilyr, law-son of Idwal, take you as my lawful husband. To keep and to maintain from this day forward. For better and for worse, in wealth and in absence. In my living and in my dying. Until death do us part.’
‘With this ring,’ the prince said, ‘I make half, whole.’
The ring slid perfectly onto Meilyr’s heart-finger.
‘With this ring,’ he managed, ‘I make half, whole.’
The other ring settled perfectly on the prince’s heart-finger.
‘I pronounce you wed.’ The priest blessed them with incense and their own sprig of rowan, wound around the iron knot of the Khaimlic faith. ‘You may mark your bond.’
Prince Osian placed a light kiss to the corner of Meilyr’s mouth, and his heart hitched.
Their hand ribbons unfastened, he shakily signed his name beneath the prince’s on an extravagantly emblazoned piece of fine parchment, and only got a little ink on his fingers.
‘I am sorry,’ Prince Osian said quietly, as though it were his fault.
With that, it was done.
THREE
The Cyngaleg princes should not be confused with the Khaimlic term.Prince, as translated from Cyngaleg, refers to one descended from theoathsworn of the Eternal King, who unified the Isles. Due to theprinces’ martial might and involvement with sorcery, the rulers of Khaimconsidered them too dangerous to be left alive. These were the first putto the sword during Khaim’shuntsof those with sorcery intheir blood (c.613–644 A.S.).
The bastardisation of the titlePrince of Cyngalonis also asore spot to the defeated, granted to the second-born heir of Khaimsince the time of King Uhtric Arden-Draca himself.
There have been calls in recent years to change the title to Prince ofthe Denelands, in order to better reflect Khaim’s efforts to erase thenow-forbidden Cyngaleg language.
Khaimlic History and the Centuries of War with Cyngalon,
E. van der Vos
THREE
‘Consort, Majesty?’ Harlan asked, again.
Osian pushed back the image of those eyes above the dusting of freckles: eyes like a forest, dawn through the trees. The fall of Meilyr’s wavy dark hair, braided.Wed.
‘Forgive me for speaking my mind,’ Harlan continued. ‘I know you were not exactly keen on marrying either of the Earl of Flintwick’s heirs, or that Ectheid from southern Raak. And the less said about the lordling from the northern territories the better, but… a Cyngaleg peasant? I know His Majesty the King pushed for a union, but why the rush? Could this not have waited until the arrival of—’
‘You may always challenge me in private,’ Osian said, without edge, ‘but this subject will not be questioned beyond us.’
‘Of course, Majesty.’ Harlan knew that. ‘I merely thought that if the requirement for potential matches was dire, you might have mentioned it to me sooner.’ There was almost a pout in that, as much as Harlan was capable of pouting. They regrouped, and said, ‘How shall I present it to the rabble?’
‘Ourguestis to remain secret.’ No one was to know about Meilyr’s brother. It was bad enough crownsworn were assaulting townsfolk; it was worse to have innocents involved. ‘As for the rest, keep the details enticingly quiet. Allow a story to slip that we happened upon one another during my previous visits to Cyngalon.’
So temptingly near illicit, the court would devour it like spiced wine.