The Consort, Chapter 5
The narthex of the Great Hall felt very quiet once the doors were shut behind them. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch, and in rather a blur from DG’s perspective. The judge had made quick work of it, keeping the sermonizing to a minimum and cutting right to the chase. She vaguely recalled making some promises and repeating some vows and putting a ring on Cain’s finger, and then people were applauding and she was hanging onto Cain’s arm for dear life as they walked back down that interminably long aisle. DG stopped to compose herself, Cain’s hand firm on her waist. She bent over slightly.
“Breathe, kiddo,” Cain murmured.
“Quit smirking. I can hear your smirk.”
“It’s over. We did it.”
DG straightened up and looked at him. “Yeah. We did.” Which means we’re married. Imagine that. “And I didn’t even throw up.”
Cain looked mildly alarmed. “Didn’t realize there was danger of that.”
“Just nerves.”
There was a valet lurking nearby. “Your Highnesses,” he said, in that silky-smooth tone of deference that all the royal attendants seemed to have in common. DG had wondered more than once if they had to take a class or something. He was holding out his arm, indicating for them to follow him to the anteroom where they would sign their names to the Registry, making their marriage official. The doors to the Hall remained shut; the guests would be kept inside until DG and Cain were out of the narthex. The wedding feast would be held on one of the lower floors in a series of state dining rooms; even the largest single banquet hall would not hold all these guests. Later everyone would move into the Ballroom, which took up the entirety of the fortieth floor and was plenty roomy enough for everyone to dance.
She took his arm again. “I can’t believe after all that there’s paperwork,” she grumbled, draping her train over one arm and tossing her flowers to the nearest lady-in-waiting.
“There’s always paperwork. It’s the only certainty in life,” Cain said as they followed the valet.
DG glanced up at him. There was tension in his shoulders. “What?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. I was just…well, it crossed my mind that we might have some security issues. Such a big gathering. Wouldn’t be hard for someone to sneak in who wanted to make their displeasure known.”
She shook her head. “Two years of work. Sometimes it seems like it hasn’t made one lick of difference.”
“Some people will never be satisfied at the way things ended. They don’t care that she was possessed, they want vengeance. Some people just don’t trust an Otherworlder.”
“I’m not an Otherworlder. Technically.”
“You’re enough of one to give some people a reason to distrust you, although they’d likely find a reason anyway.”
DG sighed. “Well, that’s why we’re doing all this, isn’t it? To help bolster confidence?” A trace of bitterness crept into her voice. She and her family had spent the entire first year after the Eclipse touring the country, talking to people, showing the records of the Witch’s defeat, soothing fears, making assurances. Had any of it been worth the time?
They’d reached the anteroom. The valet opened the door and stepped aside to let them enter. The Chief Registrar was waiting behind a small escritoire. Floating in the air at his side was a thick scroll sealed in a copper case. “Your Highness,” he said, bowing to DG. “General Cain. As you know,” he began without preamble, “the Registry is a record of all who are born, die or marry in the O.Z. Each of you have a record of your birth contained herein; today you will add to it the record of your marriage.” He lifted a hand and the scroll clicked open. The parchment flowed down and across the table, stopping before it touched the floor. “Each of you please state your name.”
DG stepped forward. “DG Gale,” she said. Nothing happened.
“Your dynastic name, Your Highness.”
“Oh. Theora Dorothea Grace Gale.” The scroll zipped back and forth, the paper flying across the desk, vanishing before it hit the floor, until it slowed and came to a halt with her name in the center of the desk. Each name bore three columns. Only the left-hand column of hers contained writing, just her name and her parents’ names.
She took up the quill the judge handed her and steadied her hand. If there was ever a time for good penmanship, this was surely it. She wrote carefully in the center column: “Husband - Wyatt Henry Cain.” No dates were required; the scroll knew when it was written upon. She blotted the ink and handed the quill back, satisfied.
“Sir,” the Registrar said, motioning to Cain.
He cleared his throat and said his name, and the scroll began to whir again, stopping at Cain’s entry.
DG’s heart sank. In the center column were still written the words “Wife - Adora Louise Earlie.” She felt Cain stiffen at her side. “It still says I’m married to my late wife,” he choked out.
“Indeed, sir. As it would have done in perpetuity if you had not remarried.”
“But…what do I do?”
“Simply begin writing the new entry, and the old one will disappear.”
Cain’s head jerked up at that. “What? Can’t I just…add it?”
“That would imply being married to two women at the same time, sir.”
“You’re telling me there’ll be no record that I was ever married to Adora now?”
“Not at all, sir. A record exists, as part of her entry. And will always exist.” The Registrar was looking at Cain not unsympathetically. “Your Highness, I understand how you feel. You must honor your late wife as you see fit. But you have chosen now to cleave to another, and that is how you must be known by the Registry.”
Cain sighed, and gave a tight nod. He took the quill, drew a deep breath, and began to write. Just as the Registrar had said, the entry about Adora immediately faded, and Cain wrote the new one over it.
DG’s heart ached. It was bad enough she was asking him to give up the chance of finding new love, now she’d made him erase the love he’d once had. He hung his head when he finished writing, handing the quill back to the Registrar. The Registry scroll wound itself up and closed with a snap. The Registrar plucked it out of the air. “My very best wishes to both of you, Your Highness, General.” He bowed and left the room.
Cain stayed where he was, leaning over his hands braced on the table, head down and eyes closed. DG put a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.
He sighed, and straightened up. “He’s right. It was just a little unexpected, that’s all.” He met her eyes. “I’m married to you now, DG. That’s how it ought to be in the Registry.” He took her arm again and they headed out to the courtyard to join their guests.
His words echoed in DG’s mind. I’m married to you now, DG.
He’s my husband now. Cain’s my husband. Hus-band.
Hoo boy.
The wedding ball went on until almost midnight. It was fortunate it ended when it did, or else DG might have been forced to issue some sort of royal edict to get everyone to go home.
The truth was that everyone in attendance was ecstatic, and felt like celebrating. DG wasn’t ignorant of what her marriage meant to the kingdom. It meant hope that the dark days were over, that the new regime she represented would continue, and would be strong enough to beat back its enemies…those within their borders as well as those outside them. Most people in the O.Z., not just everyone here at the reception, considered this a joyous occasion, so DG and Cain did their best to smile and put on happy faces and accept everyone’s protracted good wishes with grace.
I wonder what all this feels like when you’re marrying someone you’re in love with, because you actually want to, DG thought. I bet all the hoopla isn’t nearly as irritating.
Azkadellia, Ambrose, Jeb and Raw ran interference for them, forming a protective wall to shield them from too much small talk and glad-handing. Her parents were smiling and mingling enough that an observer might have thought this was their wedding. Everyone commented on how well the Queen was looking. DG tried not to think about it, because she knew the improvement was temporary. She watched her mother in her carved wooden wheelchair, gracious and beautiful, and her heart tightened at the knowledge that she’d soon lose her.
Through it all, DG was never more grateful for Cain’s calm presence. He never left her side, and knowing that he was just as eager for this to be over as she was made it all the more endurable. He had always been her friend, but now he was her partner, and she needed one.
She might have been imagining things, but she also thought she detected a subtle shift in his behavior. He seemed more attentive, more solicitous. Always a touch on her back when she moved, always a hand to help her out of a chair. Appearing at her side when she walked, elbow out. Pulling out her chair for her, assisting her down stairs, knowing her wobbliness on the cursed shoes.
He’s treating me like his wife.
I am his wife.
Hoo boy.
They danced, because everyone was mad for them to do so and they couldn’t come up with a reasonable excuse not to. Cain turned out to be a surprisingly graceful dancer. She’d half-expected to have to drag him about and suffer the flattening of her toes, but he’d led her confidently about the floor while everyone just stared.
“What is everyone looking at?” she asked as they danced, her words strained through her frozen smile.
“They’re looking at the Queen,” he answered without moving his lips, his own smile never faltering.
“I’m not Queen yet.”
“You might as well be.”
He was right about that. DG had assumed almost all of her mother’s duties in preparation for the official transition, due to take place in two weeks. In fact, she and Cain had been moved into the royal suite the day before, although this night would be the first time either of them slept there.
“Well, I think they’re looking at you,” she said, still dancing and smiling until it hurt.
“Why would they do that?”
“Why wouldn’t they? You’re only the handsomest guy here.”
At that, Cain actually looked at her, his phony smile melting into a real one. “You think so?”
“I’ve always thought so.” She grinned as the tips of his ears went bright red. “Aww, you’re blushing.”
He shrugged it off and they kept dancing. Somehow, all the eyes on her didn’t feel quite so heavy now. “Well, you clean up pretty well yourself,” he said.
“Gee thanks, Cain. You sure know how to warm a girl’s heart.”
“I’m serious,” he said, his expression suddenly matching his words. “When you came through those doors in the Hall….” He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You’re beautiful, you know.”
DG smiled, feeling something shifting beneath her breastbone. “Thanks,” she whispered.
He pulled her a little closer and DG fitted her head into the hollow of his shoulder, just the right height to accept it, his arm tight around her waist, and one dance turned into several.
Nervousness robbed them of words and slowed their steps as they approached their new suite, freshly redecorated to suit them, their things relocated here while the Queen and Ahamo were moved closer to the Queen’s physicians.
The wedding guests had gone home. Azkadellia had gone to bed. Jeb had set off to rejoin his troops in the south. Ambrose was supervising the cleanup, and Raw had retreated to his meditation chamber, exhausted from all the emotion flying around all day.
It was just them. Alone. Even the servants seemed to be giving them a wide berth as they made the walk to their chambers. The doors were opened for them as they approached and shut behind them when they crossed into the sitting room. DG looked around, acutely aware that she was now utterly alone with her brand-new husband in their private living quarters.
She dropped her hand from Cain’s arm and immediately bent to yank off her shoes, groaning. “Oh God, my feet are killing me.”
“Who convinced you to wear those things?”
“I had to let Mother make a few decisions so she’d let me have my way with the things I really cared about.”
“Like what?”
“Like this dress,” she said, motioning to herself. “You should have seen some of the concoctions she wanted me in.”
“But that one’s so…nice.”
“Thanks. I could have used that vote of confidence when I was talking her out of ruffles and butt-bows.” She sat down and began rubbing her instep. Cain sat down at her side, keeping his distance. DG had to laugh at his expression. “Don’t worry, I won’t press you into footrub service. Not on your first day, anyway.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Elephant? What elephant? I don’t see an elephant.
“Everything went well,” he said, pointlessly.
She nodded. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
“You still have the coronation to get through.”
“Don’t think you’re not going to suffer through that with me,” she said, raising an accusing finger. “You get to stand there and endure all the pageantry, too.”
“I don’t have to wear that big fur thing, though.”
DG shuddered. “Can’t I hire some minimalist designer to re-imagine all the robes of state? Issey Miyake, maybe?”
“I imagine you can do whatever you want, DG.” Their eyes met and a host of unintended meanings flittered back and forth.
I am taking this bull by the horns. So to speak. “Look,” she said, plunging ahead. “Let’s not drag this out any more than we have to. There’s your room, there’s my room. I know we’ve said we’re not gonna share, but…” She sighed, hoping she could get through this without spontaneously combusting. “You’ve taken on a pretty thankless job here, and, well…if you want to, you could, uh…you know. Come in. With me, I mean.” She ventured a glance up at Cain, and to her surprise, he looked angry. She frowned. “Wyatt?”
His jaw was clenching. “I don’t want to hear you say such a thing again.”
“What do you mean?”
“DG, you’re…you’re…” He paused and composed himself. “You’re offering yourself to me as some kind of, what? A perk?”
“Well, I hadn’t really thought of it that way…”
“You think I’d consider sex with you as compensation for services rendered?”
“It sounds all weird when you say it like that!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean for it to sound so…creepy! I just thought, well, it is our wedding night, and isn’t sex usually a perk of being married?”
His eyebrows had shot up into his forehead. “You’re saying you want to?”
“Well…no.”
“Okay, then.” He sighed. “DG, I don’t expect anything. And I didn’t agree to marry you because I thought sex would come with it.”
DG nodded. “I know.”
“We know there’ll come a time when…when we’ll have to. When we decide it’s time for a baby. But I don’t want or expect anything else from you, okay?”
“Okay.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. “Well…I guess I’ll turn in, then. I’m exhausted.”
“I’m pretty tired myself.”
They stood up together, that awkwardness back in full force, stifling the easy camaraderie they’d always had. “Good night,” DG said, and turned toward her room.
“DG, wait,” Cain said. She turned back. “I just want to…hey, look at me, okay?” DG met his gaze. God, people say it all the time but it’s really true, he does have the most amazing blue eyes ever. “I just want to tell you that…I’m gonna be there with you. No matter what happens. I meant those vows I made today.” He reached out and grasped her free hand. “I know you’re scared to lose your mother. I know you never expected to be Queen. But whatever comes down, you’re gonna have me in your corner. You got that, princess?”
DG smiled, his words forming a warm little cocoon around her heart, melting some of the ice that terror had formed there. “That’s Mrs. Cain to you.”
Cain grinned, then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Well then, goodnight, Mrs. Cain.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Cain.”