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The Arranged Marriage – Part 3

Find Parts 1 and 2. Or check out the novels set in this same world; Unintended and Uncharted. Otherwise, keep reading!

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Cielle fought back the urge to punch her twin brother as their boat came to rest alongside the port. Using the disembarking of the ship as her chance to fade back into anonymity again, Cielle ducked behind Cyril in the crowd and hoped for one that the similarities in their appearance would cause people to think her brother had been the one to make a fool of himself instead of her.

They’d cut it close. With the risk of storms on the bay so late into the season, their boat had only made it across on the day of the wedding. By the time Cyril and Cielle reached the port, Lord Branton was already lost in a crowd of well-wishers and being whisked back to his castle on the north coast of the small peninsula. Cielle let out her breath in relief. At least I don’t have to face him… yet.

Cyril tugged her by the arm and made her keep pace with the throng. “Come on, we don’t want to be late!”

But her mind was not on current events or her surroundings. She ignored the sights and sounds of Wilkesport and was distantly grateful for her brother’s sure grip on her arm as he led her through the city. Internally, Cielle was furiously plotting. Lord Branton not being the lazy fat man I was expecting is going to make things a lot more difficult, she reasoned.

Between one thought and the next, Cielle reached out and pilfered her brother’s dagger. She’s always been quick with her hands and Cyril didn’t even notice the blade’s loss. Cielle grimaced at herself as she tucked the sheathed blade between her breasts before Cyril thought to glance back at her. With luck, he won’t realize it’s gone. And if he does, he’ll think someone on the boat or in the crowd took it. Well, that’s true enough, anyways. I was on the boat and in the crowd.

Their seats were far enough away from the front that Cielle felt safe enough that Lord Branton wouldn’t spot her and identify her from the boat, but she also felt kind of insulted at the distance. I know I’m not a member of her family, but I’m still one of the few people here in support of the bride! Cielle silently fumed. Other than Larissa’s immediate family, the rest of these people are all snooty Wellish nobles. What gives them the right to sit closer to Larissa on her big day than me?

“This is really hard on you, isn’t it?” Cyril questioned, noticing the pout that was forming on her face.

Cielle wanted to retort, but she sensed that her twin was being genuine this time. “Well, you’d be just as pissed if you were stuck at the back of Garron’s wedding, wouldn’t you?”

“Touche,” Cyril murmured in response, absently reaching for his belt and the dagger that was no longer there.

Shit! I shouldn’t have brought up Garron D’Arbonne! The dagger that’s been making me uncomfortable for the last hour was a present from him and Cyril never goes anywhere without it!

Cyril’s hand fumbled around his belt a moment before his expression became alarmed. “Cielle, have you seen my dagger?”

Cielle winced guiltily, but she’d come too far now to admit her crimes. “Who brings a dagger to a wedding anyways…?” She said by way of a diversion and then immediately felt terrible for making Cyril worry that he’d lost his prized possession. The clever explanation she’d come up with fizzled on her tongue. “Are you sure you brought it? Maybe you left it at home, or forgot it on the boat?”

“Maybe…” Cyril answered, unconvinced.

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Eye of the Storm – Part 2

I pushed away from them, trying not to look like I was fleeing, and soon found myself at the opposite end of the L-shaped bar. “What can I get you?” The bartender, a pudgy bearded man with an obvious beer-belly, questioned.    

“Uh, rum and coke,” I said the first drink combination my mind could supply and the man busied himself with the bottles in front of him.  

“It’s on me,” a new voice said to my left and I whipped my head around. “You look like you could use it.”

The man before me was hunched over the bar, his own drink, a straight shot of whiskey over ice by the looks of it sitting on the bar between his elbows. I narrowed my eyes at him, taking in his deliberately mussed mahogany-coloured hair and his matching dark five-o’clock shadow. His black collared shirt, slightly rumpled from wear, gave me the instant impression that he figured himself a ladies man, but was currently a little down on his luck in that regard. Great, so he’s slumming it…

“I can get my own drink, thanks,” I told him, not kindly.

My rum and coke arrived and a blue five dollar bill changed hands. My blue five dollar bill.

“Victor,” he said, before I could walk away.

“Sorry?” I asked, turning back to look at him, not sure I heard him right.

“My name is Victor,” he repeated. “You look like the kind of girl who wouldn’t accept a drink from a stranger. Now you know my name, so we’re no longer strangers.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, noncommittally, lifting my drink to him in salute. “Nice to meet you, Victor.”

Having dealt with the ‘local colour’, I was ready to return to Debbie and Paul, and face the music, but ‘Victor’ felt the need to stop me again. “You never gave me yours.”

I whirled again, more confused than ever. “Gave you my what?”

He smiled, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. So he’s not just dressing well, he’s got money. Or at least, his parents had enough to buy him braces as a kid. I snickered at the thought. “Your name,” he said, smiling wider now, thinking because I was laughing too that we must be sharing some kind of moment or something.

“Summer,” I told him. Certainly telling him my name can’t hurt anything, can it?

********** If you would like me to keep posting more of this story, please leave a comment below. If people keep commenting, I’ll keep writing! Thank you. Also, you can find part 1 here.************