Luvenia wasn't exactly comfortable on the way to the bridal chamber. Even knowing what she knew, the prospect of spending the night with a man was... stressful.
Gorogon didn't seem any more at ease than she. When he closed the door behind them, he leaned against it and stared at the floor.
"So... we, uh... we didn't really discuss... this."
She laughed, because she didn't know what to say, and because the situation was absurd. He chuckled nervously along with her.
"I guess you want to change. I certainly do."
"You'll have to help me." At his look of alarm, she added quickly: "The back of the dress is sewn up too tight for me to take off. I just need you to snip a few stitches."
The blades of the tiny scissors had been slipped through two loops of thread among the pearl decorations. She extracted them easily and handed them to Gorogon.
"Does it matter which stitches exactly?"
"No, but one set will be easier to get through than the others."
She started unpinning her hair while he attempted to cut her loose. Her dark locks were fully freed by the time he figured out where to snip.
"There. Is that enough?"
"Yes, thank you." She shrugged out of the dress and stepped clear of it, then took off her shoes. "I think my maids left something for me to wear..."
It wasn't until she had crossed the room and located the gauzy slip of a nightgown she was meant to wear that Luvenia realized she was in her underthings in front of Gorogon. She glanced over at him; he was facing the other way, in the midst of undressing himself. Feeling a little better, she unlaced her soft corset and wriggled into her nightgown.
The garment was so sheer that she wondered if the corset wouldn't have been more modest. She hurried to the bed and slipped under the covers.
Gorogon came to the bedside a minute later.
"Are you all right? Is it too cold in here?"
"I'm fine. My nightdress is just a little thin." She eyed his blue silk pajamas enviously.
"I see." He looked at the generous space on his side of the bed. "You're all right sharing the bed tonight?"
"Of course. We're married now." She grinned to mask her uncertainty. "Go on and turn out the light."
While he blew out the lamp, she stretched out her tense muscles in order to relax them properly. It had been a long day—not the worst day of her life, nor even among the top five, but exhausting in its own way. She was relieved to be at the end of it.
The mattress shifted as Gorogon climbed into bed. He seemed to have trouble getting comfortable.
"Am I keeping you awake?"
"What? No, no, you're fine." He sounded embarrassed. "I've just never had anyone else in my bed."
"Not even–"
She cut herself off, mortified. Not only were his prior involvements none of her business, but she had been at his side during the funeral rite for his most recent lover, so she oughtn't to have said anything.
"No." He spoke on a sigh. "I always met Caradon at his own quarters."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I've got to get used to it."
She wasn't sure if he meant her presence, Caradon's absence, or both.
"Wake me up if I snore," she murmured.
He chuckled softly. "Only if you'll do me the same courtesy."
***
She found herself in a place that was neither here nor there—an impossible architectural marriage between the palaces of Alatir and Middewold.
Her father loomed over her, holding her crown in his hands. His regalia dripped with blood.
"Kill the hart," he intoned in a booming voice, "and snare the hind."
There was something behind him. A body? She couldn't see past him.
Eddard seized her by the hair and forced her to her knees. She tried to pull free, but her body was leaden and unresponsive. She tried to call for help, but her mouth wouldn't move.
"Should heaven fall!" Her father's voice was everywhere at once, filling her lungs, her bones. "Kill the hart! Snare the hind!"
Past his legs, she could just see a body lying on the ground.
It was Beaucaire, bleeding from a dozen wounds, his pale gray eyes staring sightlessly.
Someone knelt over him, stabbing him over and over with a knife already stained scarlet. The figure was impossible to discern—a shapeless, faceless presence that was still somehow essentially human.
"Kill the hart." Their voice was as sharp as their knife. "Kill the hart. Kill the hart."
"Who are you?"
She couldn't articulate the words, but the figure seemed to hear them anyway.
"Snare the hind. Snare the hind. Snare the hind."
Her father was behind the figure, placing her crown on their head.
"Kill the hart," they intoned in unison.
The figure had Eddard's ice-blue eyes.
"Snare the hind."
The figure had Ligeia's dark hair.
"Kill the hart."
She watched herself stab Beaucaire.
"Snare the hind."
Though her throat tightened and her lungs refused to take in air, she braced her whole being and forced out a strangled scream.
***
"–up! Wake up, Lu!"
She woke in darkness to find someone shaking her.
"Who–"
"Oh, thank the gods." It was Gorogon's voice, hoarse with relief, and his hands on her shoulders. "Don't scare me like that."
He yelped in surprise as she grabbed his wrists.
"He killed Beau." Her mouth was painfully dry. "Something went wrong and he killed Beau and it was me, it was my fault–"
"Easy there, Lu. Slow down and take a breath."
He held onto her, and she to him, until she caught her breath. Her heart still hammered painfully.
"There." He lay down beside her, close enough to touch but not quite touching her. "You were having a nightmare, my dear. It wasn't real."
It might not have been real, but she knew that it was rooted in a credible threat.
"It's because of what he told me."
"What? Who?"
"Eddard." She briefly recounted their conversation. "Beau won't be safe unless everything goes the way my father wants."
"Was that really what he meant? It sounds more like advice than a threat."
"He doesn't give advice. He gives warnings."
"But surely he wouldn't harm his own son and heir."
Gorogon didn't know. Of course he didn't. She wondered what story Eddard had used to cover the deaths of so many of his children.
"He killed Lephane—and Remure."
"What?! Remure committed treason, didn't he? And I heard Lephane died on the way to... Ferifa, wasn't it? Maybe it was Peresse..."
"It's true that Remure tried to kill him, but all Lephane did was try to help my mother escape."
"Escape?" He sounded increasingly doubtful. "What are you talking about?"
"After he executed Remure, she was afraid he'd find some excuse to kill her—or me. She asked Lephane for help because she thought he'd be safe, that my father wouldn't kill his heir."
"I don't understand. Are you saying–"
"He killed Lephane." She could hardly form the words. "And my mother."
The ensuing silence pressed down on her like a boulder.
"Who told you all this?"
"No one. I was there."
"You were–" He found her hand in the dark and squeezed it. "I was your age when I heard of Lady Ligeia's death. You must have been so young..."
"Seven. I was seven years old, and I saw their bodies, and their blood on his hands."
"...Still, it's possible you misunderstood the situation."
She wrenched her hand free of his. "Did I misunderstand when he slit Detta's throat? What did he say happened then—that an assassin had killed the daughter of a concubine he happened to have executed for treason earlier that day? What about Ybele's suicide note? Did I misunderstand that?!"
Talking about them—the brothers and sisters she had lost, whom Eddard had taken from her—it felt like treason. She had promised never to speak of the traitors, of the ones who were weak. Every word burned her throat.
"If you don't believe me–"
"Shh, shh, it's all right. I believe you."
She let him gather her up in a warm embrace. He held her so tightly that she could feel his heartbeat, much slower than hers but just as strong.
Shivering, she tried to focus on him—the strength of his arms, the heat of his body. It felt strange to be so close to him, knowing that he was not aroused by her, that she would remain–
"I can't be a virgin."
Gorogon's muscles stiffened around her. "...What?"
"If anyone finds out I'm still a virgin, they'll know we haven't consummated the marriage, and if he has an informant in the palace–"
"How would anyone find out... that??"
"In books, there's always blood on the sheets the morning after the wedding night."
"Ugh. I've heard about that, but..."
"And, if I'm not pregnant within a few months, the nobles might pressure you to have me examined by a doctor."
"Ah. That might cause trouble."
"So I need to lose my virginity tonight."
"How? You know I can't..."
"I guess I'll use my fingers."
"Lu–"
"I can't take any risks. Not with Beau's life at stake."
Gorogon sighed.
"Then... let me help you."
"Really? You don't have to..."
"It's my duty as your husband." He sounded faintly amused. "And at least my hands will do as they're told, no matter who I'm with."
She almost laughed. This whole night was such a farce.
"If you're willing, I'll accept your help."
They managed to find positions that were relatively convenient for their purposes. She guided his hand to the border of her undiscovered territory.
"Tell me right away if I hurt you, all right?"
"No—they say it's supposed to hurt the first time."
"...Is it too late to say no to this?"
"It's never too late. If you don't want to do it, I'll do it."
"Well, if it's going to hurt either way... Are you ready?"
"Ready."
There was a little pressure, then a little pain, then a sensation she could not classify as either pleasure or pain.
"This is really strange for me, Lu."
"Same."
"Does it hurt?"
"...I think it's supposed to hurt more than that. Would you do it again?"
This time it hurt less, and the new sensation left her breathless.
"Maybe you need to do it harder."
"I don't think–" He cut himself off with a small frustrated sound. "Fine."
"Harder and further—like you were really ravishing me."
"Lu–!"
"I'm serious. Don't stop until I tell you to."
He did as she said.
At long last, it started to genuinely hurt. She had him continue even after that, just in case it wasn't enough.
"Lu, I think..." He was panting, his hand shaking. "I can't feel my fingers, but I think you're bleeding."
"That's fine. You can stop now."
"Thanks. I'll go wash up, if you don't mind."
She was a million miles from minding. She lay under the covers, trembling, wondering whether she would be able to sleep with what felt like an open wound inside her.
"Lu!" He jumped back into bed; the movement made her wince. "There was much more blood than I thought there would be. Are you really all right?"
"Yes. Don't worry."
Gorogon's skin felt cold against hers as he put his arms around her. He had taken off his pajama top, she noted listlessly.
"Look, I'm really not sure about this. What if I've done something really horrible to you?"
"It would be my fault, not yours."
"That's not what I meant. I'm worried about you."
She rested her head on his chest. He was softer than Hanna, much less muscular, but very comfortable to lie against.
"If you're still worried tomorrow, then we can call a doctor. Will that satisfy you?"
"I guess so."
"Good night, darling."
"Good night, my dear."