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92.1% Wield The Sword Like No Other / Chapter 35: Chapter 21: Wedding procedures

Bab 35: Chapter 21: Wedding procedures

"It has been two days, when will you notify her that you have retrieved the book?" nagged the blond, stabbing his fork into the soft sponge cake. The dark lord leaned back, sipping calmly at his tea, admiring the intricately carved furniture. He lifted his lips from the rim, allowing Caspian's annoyance to grow as he was coerced to watch on. "I plan on memorizing the book first before she hides it," he mused. This earned him a scoff, "Why would you do that all the while she fears for dear life?"

"I reassured her that her safety is in good hands. I have at least informed her that a mystery guard has revealed himself."

"You mean that cloaked man?"

"Yes, that cloaked man," repeated Valleric, his brows creased, "We call those Shadow Guards or also referred to as Knights of the Shadows."

Caspian leaned his elbow onto the wooden rest. "You mean to tell me that we have a bunch of those blokes patrolling the dark corners without our knowledge?"

"Yes," said Vally, "You wouldn't know who is one of them and who isn't. So are you one?"

"Am I wearing a cloak?" blandly pointed out the blond. Valleric simply shrugged in reply, pursing his lips as his hands gestured mockingly. "Well I thought I saw one when I searched your closet," he replied. Caspian gasped with immediate offense as he leaned forward to slam his palms onto the classic tea table. The offense practically rung through the empty parlour. "How dare you touch my belongings! I bet you've taken my finest shirt to wear!"

"I am wearing one of your shirts now, if I must point it out," laughed Valleric, an elived smile prancing over his lips. Caspian glanced him once over before deciding to sit back. His lips pouted when he muttered sourly, "It looks good on you."

"I know," said Valleric, cockily lifting the cup to his mouth once more.

"Speaking of what looks good!" boomed a high-pitched voice, "I need to have you fitted!"

Valleric did not bother to turn, his face already expressing pure vexation. "Will the queen be among us?"

Lavinia halted with an expression referenced by sour-turned goat's milk. "No," she spat, "Your attire will be just as much of a surprise as her dress."

"I will company you," volunteered Caspian already standing, "You will not be lead astray by my exquisite taste in style."

Valleric stayed seated, surveying both individuals with utter disregard. "We will do it here, the parlor is quite cozy to my liking," he insisted as if they had no vote against his will. Lavinia's expression twisted with dissatisfaction. "Do not let the title poison your head before the crown sits on it, blockhead," she snapped, clapping her hands.

Valleric remained unbothered. Quite on the contrary, he slouched further into his seat. Caspian snickered into his palm, turning away to hide his enjoyment. Lavinia's perfect pink cheeks flared red. "You have to obey me as I am the wedding planner by duty, I have not asked for this neither have you. In conclusion, we all suffer, so raise your arse from the chair and follow along like a good guard dog."

"Guard dog?" repeated a calm voice.

Lavinia perched in her heels, straightening her spine. She dropped her wicked expression to a more reserved one. The sound of a dragging gown prickled her skin.

Once the queen entered her view, she couldn't help but frown. "Your Highness, is it not improper to appear before men in only a robe and socks?" called out Lavinia.

Riona dipped her chin, droopy eyes scanning her attire to humor the pink lady. "You genuinely think so? In what rule book does it stand?" Lavinia bit back her tongue. Riona nodded in approval to the silence, averting her attention to her fiancè. The corners if her lips quirked up in response to his eyes meeting hers.

She leaned her head to the side. "One should not disregard the future king as a mere guard dog. He is more than just a pet as I am more than just a crown."

Caspian popped into view, interrupting by reminding, "The Lord needs to attend to his fittings, your highness. He wishes to occupy the parlor for that purpose."

She turned, raising a tired brow. "Oh," she responded with a yawn, "I will dismiss myself then." As soon as she appeared, she vanished from the room to haunt other corridors.

Valleric finally rose from his seat. "I do not wish to stay for too long. I would appreciate your crew to hasten their work, I have to put my future wife to bed."

Caspian suppressed his chuckles, probing, "What could she have possibly have been occupied with during the night?"

"She sat cooped in her office writing off her final invitations to the wedding. In addition, she traced out security plans for the day, since she believes she cannot trust the head of the castle guards."

"Enough of guards and knights, why don't you go stand in the light where the tailor can fit you with fabrics."

Valleric obliged, stepping into the faint sunlight. A gentleman entered the room as if summoned by some sort of mind link. Elegant fabrics drooped over his shoulders and arms. Lavinia pulled at one of the fine materials, suggesting, "I think this Peacock Blue would suite you exquisitely. It would complement the queen's blue wing tints."

Caspian scratched at his jaw, pulling his face in disagreement. "I think it is rather dark in contrast to his other features. The pair would look as if they were shadows in your bright decor."

"What do you suggest then?" she yapped.

"A light grey with the shimmering undertone of green which would leave the Queen with a dove grey dress with a tint of blue."

"That is rather plain."

"I like the plain idea," commented the groom-to-be, smiling, "When everyone is draped in patterns, we will stand in clear colors."

Lavinia rolled her eyes, nodding towards the tailor, mumbling, "Just make it work." The man nodded, continuing to take his needed measurements.

Finally, as the two left, Caspian yanked Valleric before he could exit the parlor. "Valleric," he whispered, "I think it would be wise to tell Riona about what the mad doctor said... About the Moth King and his daughter." Valleric paused for a moment, his mind contemplating. "What if it stirs her more than needed? She is fragile when she is sleep deprived. I do not want her to worry when it does not concern her own kingdom."

"It does concern her. The fact that her true father dethroned a second daughter, just to unite his kingdom with her's, would that not mean peace?"

"We have peace," stated Valleric, "Uproars may occur when uniting kingdoms. It would mean that she has a larger land to tend to than needed. She already has enough on her plate as it is."

Caspian sent him a look of pure concern. "I just wish the two of you the best, my friend."

Valleric patted him on the shoulder, assuring him, "Sometimes I sit back and enjoy watching the world burn around me all because I know she sets mine on fire. Allow me to fight the flames for her because I fear she might burn once they reach her."

Caspian snorted, backing up, "Where do you read these dramatic lines?"

Valleric grinned warmly for once, a fond memory twinkling behind his eyes as he said, "I once had a friend who loved poetry and art. He forced me to open books. Now, they play second nature on my tongue as they are reread in my memories."

The blond pushed the man towards the door. "Oh just go find your love and spare me the reading romance," he chuckled.

***

Riona sat slumped on a couch before a crackling fire in her room. Her toes curled from the glorious heat. Half asleep she dreamed of her days in the courtyard. Her mind played the familiar memories involving winter. She remembered shivering under layers of fox fuzz and leather coats. Nothing prevented the chilly enemy from slowing her movements as it clawed into every crevice in her clothes. Her knuckles would bleed as they cracked from the dry frost which covered her bandages and gloves. Yet there she used to stand, a young girl with an iron sword, swinging away at the experienced lads. Her training lasted hours and once she could enter her housing, she would collapse before the kitchen fires, defrosting like a mummified frog after winter.

Riona was so deep in her thoughts that she hardly noticed the blanket lifting from her legs as another body settled beside her. The gentleman lightly patted her shoulderblade, expressing his care as he asked, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, returning to reality. "Quite all right. Just reminiscing on the past."

Valleric hummed, transitioning back into silence with only the audible crackle of the fire. The light flickered, highlighting warm brown hues dancing in Riona's eyes. Vally admired her glamour for a moment, warmth spreading under his ribcage, yet it faded as he thought back to the other night.

"Riona," he started, waiting for the lady to look at him, "Unsettling information has come to my attention..."

"Which is?" she asked, her brows curving.

"You have a half-sister... She has been kicked from the moth throne —"

"Why does that have to be brought to my attention? The moth kingdom is non of my concern as long as we uphold the peace treaty."

"It does. The moth king wishes to gift the throne to you. He wishes to unite the kingdoms according to sources. So what will you do?"

Riona froze up. She didn't breathe.

"Go find Enzo."


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