Knight, Heir, Prince. Morgan RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
in the corner, dressed in royal purple and silver, smirking as he eyed the serving girls. Thanos had to fight to keep from walking over there and strangling him with his bare hands.
And then there was the thought that would not let him be:
Ceres.
That brought with it a spike of pain that felt, even now, as though it might burst through his chest. He could still barely believe that she was dead and gone, lost on a prison ship while he’d been on Haylon. Just the thought of that threatened to drag him back toward the darkness that had consumed him when he’d heard the news.
Stephania had pulled him out of that. She’d been the one shining point in it all, the only person in Delos who had brought him any happiness when he had wanted to end it all, when he could not envision a life without Ceres.
It was not that he did not love Stephania; he did. He had come to love her. It was, rather, that he could not let himself forget Ceres. It was as if the two loves still co-existed in his heart. He could not understand it all. Why had Ceres been meant to come into his life only to leave it? Why had Stephania been meant to come into his life at the moment she had? Had Ceres come to him to somehow prepare him to accept Stephania? Or had the two nothing to do with one another?
Music stirred. Thanos turned and his heart caught to see Stephania arrive to the strains of lyre music. His heart beat faster as she walked, all the nobles standing as she went, accompanied by handmaidens who threw rose petals and rang bells to drive away any lingering bad luck. Her dress was a pure, elegant white that made it look as though the whole room had been designed around it. She wore a diamond-studded caul over her golden hair, flowers worked into it with elaborate grace. The veil that covered her face shimmered with silver thread and tiny sapphires that mirrored the shade of the eyes beneath.
Thanos felt his fears melt away.
He watched as she approached, seeming to glide her way through the hall to the altar. She stood before him, and Thanos lifted the veil from her features.
He felt his breath catch. She was always lovely, but today she looked so perfect Thanos could barely believe that she was real. He stood staring at her for so long that he barely heard the priest begin the ceremony.
“The gods have given us many feasts and ceremonies in which to reflect on their glory,” the high priest intoned. “Of these, marriage is the most sacred, for without it there would be no continuation of humankind. This marriage is an especially glorious one, between two of the great nobles of this realm. Yet it is also between a young man and a young woman who love one another deeply, and whose happiness should find a place in all our hearts.”
He paused to let the words sink in.
“Prince Thanos, will you present your arm to be bound to this woman for all time? To love her and honor her until the gods take you from one another, and to see your families made one?”
He’d hesitated before, but now he didn’t. He extended his arm toward the high priest, palm up. “I will.”
“And Lady Stephania,” the high priest continued, “will you present your arm to be bound to this man for all time? To love him and honor him until the gods take you from one another, and to see your families made one?”
Stephania’s smile was the most beautiful thing Thanos had ever seen. She placed her hand in his. “I will.”
The high priest wrapped a length of pure white cloth around and around their arms, the wrapping both traditional and elegant.
“Bound together in marriage, you are one flesh, one soul, one family,” the high priest said. “May you be happy together always. You may kiss.”
Thanos didn’t need to be told. It was awkward, bound together like that, but that was always one of the minor amusements of a wedding feast, and they found a way. Thanos tasted Stephania’s lips against his, melting into her, and for a moment at least, he could put aside all the other concerns in the world and just be there with her. Even thoughts of Ceres faded into the background, consumed in Stephania’s touch.
Of course, Lucious would be the one to break the magic of the moment.
“Well, I’m glad that’s done,” he said over the silence of the crowd. “Can we start the party now? I need a drink!”
If the wedding ceremony had been opulent, the feast that followed was spectacular. So much so that Thanos found himself wondering about the cost of it. It looked as though half the profits from the latest raids had gone into it, with no expense spared. He knew that the king and queen were paying, as a way of showing how happy they were about the wedding, but how many families in the city could something like this have fed?
A glance around let him see tumblers and dancers, musicians and jugglers entertaining knots of nobles. Nobles danced together in swirling circles, while food was spread out in what seemed to Thanos like small mountains of pastries and sweetmeats, oysters and rich desserts.
There was wine, of course, enough that as the festivities continued, things grew wilder. The dancing sped up, with people spinning between partners almost faster than Thanos could follow. The king and queen had already retired, along with some of the older nobles, leaving the room. It was like a signal to the partygoers to put aside those inhibitions that remained.
Stephania was currently being whirled around in the traditional farewell dance, where the bride danced quickly between all the eligible young men in the room, before she would head back to Thanos’s arms at the finish. Traditionally, it was a way for the bride to show how happy she was with her choice compared to all she was rejecting. More informally, it gave the young men a chance to show off to any of the other young noble women watching.
To Thanos’s surprise, Lucious didn’t join in the dance. He’d half expected the prince to do something foolish like trying to steal a kiss. Although, compared to the part where he’d tried to have Thanos killed, that would have been relatively innocuous.
Instead, the prince swaggered over while the dance was still in progress, pushing his way through the crowd with casual arrogance as he held a crystal goblet of the finest wine. Thanos looked at him and tried to find any similarity between them. They were both the king’s offspring, but Thanos could never imagine being anything like Lucious.
“It’s a beautiful wedding,” Lucious said to him. “All the things I like best: good food, better wine, plenty of serving girls around for later.”
“Watch yourself, Lucious,” Thanos said.
“I have a better idea,” Lucious countered. “Why don’t we both watch that lovely bride of yours, spinning between so many men? Of course, with it being Stephania, we could have a small wager on which of them she’s slept with.”
Thanos’s hands clenched into fists. “Are you just here to cause trouble? Because if so, you can get out.”
Lucious’s smile widened. “And how would that look, you trying to throw out the heir to the throne from your wedding? That wouldn’t go well.”
“Not for you.”
“Remember your place, Thanos,” Lucious snapped back.
“Oh, I know my place,” Thanos said in a dangerous voice. “We both do, don’t we?”
That got a faint flicker of reaction from Lucious. Even if Thanos hadn’t known it, it would have been confirmation: Lucious knew about the circumstances of Thanos’s birth. He knew they were half-brothers.
“Curse you and your marriage,” Lucious said.
“You’re just jealous,” Thanos countered. “I know you wanted Stephania for yourself, and now I’m the one marrying her. I’m the one who didn’t run away in the Stade. I’m the one who actually fought on Haylon. We both know what else I am. So what’s left for you, Lucious? You’re just a thug the people of Delos need protecting from.”
Thanos heard the crack as Lucious’s hand tightened around his crystal goblet, squeezing until it shattered.
“You like to protect the lesser orders, don’t you?” Lucious said. “Well,