The WAR: A Story of Family

2. Welcome to Your New Home

|

"I knew you were beautiful," he said. "I hoped for the rest."

The NEWLYWEDS

A lamp swung from the outside of the carriage, the rusty metal screeching with every movement of the coach.

The light in the cab of the carriage was dim, most of it provided by the light that came from the full moon, and Avyanna could only gaze into shadows beyond the windows, gaze at the unknown surfaces barely illuminated in the soft silver that streamed from the night sky.

The floor of the carriage rocked gently beneath her, and Avyanna heard the slow consistent grinding of metal wheels on the gravel road. The sound was steady, and it would have been comforting if she were not utterly terrified about where her journey was ending.

A new bride heading to her new home and all that a union entailed, new and unknown.

On her way to her husband, Alistair.

Alistair Nobel, who she had not seen again since the day of their wedding.

She was a wife in title only, and only in name, the new Lady Nobel.

The celebration of their union had been perfect, a perfect society wedding, a lavish exquisite event that neither of them had particularly wanted or personally planned.

They had wanted to be married, of course, however neither was keen on the spectacle that came along with the day.

Avyanna had not come up with any ideas of her own, she had only been a witness, not a partaker, in the arrangements of her own wedding.

And Alistair had never objected to anything Avyanna's mother had suggested for the big day. The funding came entirely from his family, and no one would have guessed it considering the way Avyanna's mother had made lists and demands.

Avyanna had realized that Alistair only tolerated the exorbitant monetary figures and the chaos of the preparations for her benefit, although she did not know why.

He would glance at Avyanna, a look of amusement on his face, before he would approve of whatever her mother had ordered.

None of it was what he wanted.

To Avyanna he just seemed like someone who did not want to get married in public, who did not want the glare of strange eyes on him, yet he had endured it all because it was expected of him.

On the day of their union she had stood beside him facing the magistrate, holding a bouquet of jasmines, Alistair's simple gift to her.

She still had the bouquet, the charm she had cast on it allowed the flowers to remain in fresh new bloom. She was not sentimental by nature, but she thought it was a beautiful token to keep from such a significant day.

They had spoken their vows, recited the words that bound them by Alcott law to become husband and wife, and then came the ancient ritual of handfasting and the tying of knots that bound them in magic as Mages.

Their magic had intertwined, snaking like fire over their held hands and Avyanna had gasped as Alistair's magic seared sharply into her.  She had felt his grip tighten slightly around her fingers as her magic burned into him proclaiming them joined in an ordinance as old as time.

At the end of their reception celebrations, Alistair had put his fingers under her chin and raised her head, so that her eyes met his.  With wide eyes she had stared at him while his silver eyes roamed her face, as if he were committing her to memory, her eyes, her nose, the soft blush of her cheeks and her lips.