Eva and Mother walked me to the Inner Sanctum of Andora where the betrothal was to take place. I had barely stepped into the Inner Sanctum in my 16 years at Andora, except for one or two occasions. I walked across the richly carved marble walls, inlaid with semi-precious stones in rich detail. It was said famous hand carvers and artists had carved the marbles and stones together more than a century ago. They had been commissioned by my grandfather when Andora was at the height of its powers.
The altar in the middle had the marble bust of a whisperer of the land, holding in her hand the Cup of Joy, as we would call it. Her eyes were shut and her lips were parted as if in song. I watched in wonder as the torches around us threw long shadows across the glittering jewels on the walls.
Ashmeer and his brother stood stiffly in a corner, next to a rather sober-looking Malvin and Glavin. Both of them were looking at me with burning eyes, and i focuded on the floor. One step ahead of the other, till I reached them. Father stood with a man holding on a small cushion, two steel rings, and a very sharp dagger, the latter's hilt inlaid with jewels. This was not just a betrothal, but a blood tie. Unlike the customs of Andora, which favoured ostentation, we were to us the simple steel bands of Irismus. There were to be no sparkling diamonds or emeralds for me to show off to giggling girlfriends. But then, I had none to show off to. Instead, I looked expectantly at Ashmeer, hoping to see in his face some of the softness and kindness I had seen in the forest when he had kissed me.
I wasn't even sure how this marriage would work. I was terrified of him discovering my real nature and cutting my throat, or imprisoning me, but his kisses and concern and assurances had felt real. I was hopeful of his trust. Yet, right now, he looked as uncertain as I did standing in front of me. Nothing on his face betrayed him, except his scar, which was a livid red. I had learnt this much about him in two days. That scar was like a reflection of his state of mind and right now Ashmeer was in turmoil. I heard our Head Whisperer of the Land, an old wizened man, begin the chant. Three more maidens, whisperers again, came and poured fresh spring water on our hands and sprinkled them on us, for the symbolic cleansing before the union.
We both cluelessly went through the ceremonies they asked, slipping on the simple steel bands on each other's fingers and saying the words of fealty to each other and our Houses. The ostentatious ceremonies would wait for later, the Northerners were keen to plan the mission and did not want too many distractions from it. They actually seemed keen to get this part of the arrangement over and done with. They had even cancelled the ceremonial dinner to toast us after the Betrothal and asked for a war council meeting early tomorrow morning. I was quite ok with that. As Ashmeer leaned down to peck me on my lips, I longed for him to linger, but Duke Ashdeer's voice cut in, "Let's have the blood tie done then!"
I shuddered as they pricked my finger, and placed it in the cup of Joy. Andorans could not let an outsider in the mines till a blood tie was done, else the mines would fall apart. It might have been true, or simply a legend, but no one in Andora would like to take a chance. The simple exchange of our blood would guarantee a bit of me in Ashmeer, and a bit of him in me. I watched as he followed the same ritual. His face was unreadable as he placed his finger in the cup. His eyes met mine, and I saw a spark in them. I wondered if he was already planning the mission. I wondered if our kisses had meant something to him or were just his way of staking his claim on his future bride.
As I sipped from the cup, I only tasted the metallic tang of his blood and mine. I grimaced and handed him the cup and watched him take a sip. Unlike me, he showed no reaction to the blood. As if, this was something he did every day. I felt stifled by the entire ceremony. I wanted to go and throw up. The blood felt like it was burning a trail down me, as it passed. Eva passed me a glass of chilled lemon water, as if on cue. I drank it but the burning did not ease much. Instead, I felt like I could trace Ashmeer's blood within me burning a trail. Ashmeer had no such discomfort. He was in fact, licking his lips, as if he had relished a good meal.
I looked down at the steel band on my finger. It was done! Tomorrow we would go to war!