"You're alright…" Izziah breathed and she swept past him, throwing the veil onto the couch.
"I'm fine, excuse me," she tried to leave but he caught her arm and she swung on him, but he jerked her forward against him to throw her off balance.
"Stop being so angry at me, Etani," he snapped. "You know why I did it, you know why we did it. I didn't know Drizdan had that plan."
"Well you're stupid, the man is insane," she hissed her response, trying to pull her wrist free but his arm went around her, keeping her trapped. "Besides, he can give up on that plan because I'm already married."
"What? To who?" he grabbed her left wrist and pulled her hand up, seeing no ring but instead, a dark line had formed that she hadn't noticed before. "The lich…" he snarled and threw her arm away from him. Wriggling herself free, she turned and using the momentum of the turn, she slapped him as hard as she could.
"You and your brother can never keep your hands to yourself. Do not touch me, Izziah. I'm not your doll to be manipulated into place. You tried to sell me, you were going to sell me if you weren't found out. You had gone to negotiate my price when your brother was threatening to rape me, promising to rape me."
"How could you marry that monster?!" he yelled, clearly not listening to her as he clutched his face where she had struck him.
"That's none of your business," she snapped and again he grabbed her arm, keeping her from escaping.
"You're a Princess of the Winter Court and you're married to a lich!" he yelled in her face; his fingers so tight on her wrist it hurt.
"Let go of me!" she cried, twisting her arm to try and free it.
Finally, he let her go and she stepped back three paces, clutching her bruised wrist.
"Has he touched you?" he demanded, his eyes raking down her form.
Her chin lifted and as she turned away from him. "I'm carrying his child," she said nastily and slammed the door in his livid face.
Locking it, she shoved a chair under the handle just to be sure, and then dropped onto her bed, fuming. The cackling laughter in her head only adding to her sour mood.
***
By the time the next evening rolled around, she had been given a long black gown and a matching black veil. While it hid her face almost entirely, the fabric allowed her to see out quiet easily. She stepped from her room, running her hands down the silken fabric of her dress and glanced around to see Izziah had been dressed well also.
His suit matched her dress quite well and he offered her a wary smile as he lifted a silver circlet to her.
Settling it down onto her head while being careful not to touch her any more than was necessary, they left the room to an oddly quiet palace, her instincts already frayed. She didn't want to think about Nayishma as being dead, she wanted to focus on the beauty of the woman in life but that wasn't how things ran in that place.
The naga led them down the hall and into the throne room that was filled with people wearing all black, the room quiet and eerie for that silence.
"Creepy," Izziah breathed, looking out over the mass of figures.
She couldn't help but agree, glancing around when their guide bowed and left them just to the side of the mass of figures.
"Thank you all for coming to mourn the death of our most precious daughter," Varsas called out from the throne. "Not only will we remember the perfection that was the Princess Nayishma, but we will celebrate the beauty of her, and the happiness of her life."
That was odd, she had been so sure the man had loved her, but she didn't think he found his daughter overly beautiful or precious if he was throwing his lesbian daughter at an abusive man in the hopes of marrying her off.
The crowd shifted to break up into smaller groups and she couldn't help but notice that much of the conversation revolved around Nayishma's life and what she had done.
She was an incredibly kind and generous woman, loving to help others in need and sharing what she could with the city.
She loved birds, was gentle and sweet, represented the future of the throne and they all missed her almost as much as Etani did.
It was painful to hear it all, recalling those last moments with the dying princess and the tender kiss that pulled her free of her failing body. She couldn't help but recall it, even as it burned her soul.
Dancing had started up and she accepted an offer as soon as it came, barely seeing the face of the tall man, only seeing his black jacketed chest as he pulled her seamlessly through the steps of the dance as though it were second nature.
The dancing lasted for hours, growing slowly more upbeat until finally she was passed on to Varsas himself and he was looking rather flustered as his hands slipped into hers.
"I am glad you were here to see this," he said gently, squeezing her fingers.
"Thank you for asking that we stay, it feels good to be able to celebrate her, even in death. I am glad that we can move past this and look to the future," she sighed, his height making the dance somewhat harder for her with his leading.
"Yes, I am sure it will be interesting," he said slyly, smirking at her. "Why don't you stay for a while longer? I'm sure someone of your rank could use the break from that overbearing arse."
"I'm afraid we must decline, we are needed back in Ayathian," she said, half tempted by the offer.
"Ayathian won't be the safest place for much longer, princess," he said simply.
"Why not?"
"Because there will be war."
She froze, staring down at him as she took that information in.
"You will continue to go to war with Ayathian?" she hissed, pulling her hands free of his.
"He allowed an emissary, and my only daughter, to be murdered under his watch," he snapped, glaring at her.