Unleashed, page 27
“It’s for the best,” she said as she shook the long blue dress out and undid the laces. “Maro’s not a fan of weddings. Too many people that close together makes them nervous.”
I stilled her work long enough to take her hand. “But they’re your closest friend. They should be here.”
The way she twisted her mouth at one corner and couldn’t quite meet my gaze said she agreed, but we could never force Maro to do anything they didn’t want to do, and their mission in Divar was too important to interrupt for something as trivial as a wedding.
Instead, Lou turned me to face the mirror that stood opposite our bed.
“Arms up,” she said.
“I can dress myself.”
She planted a kiss where my neck met my shoulder, making me shiver.
“I know. But I want to do this. It’s the last time we’ll be alone today.”
With a sigh, I closed my eyes and held my arms over my head. The soft fabric rustled over my limbs and brushed down my hair. Redmere had lost her finest dressmaker, but plenty of skilled seamstresses had been happy to offer their services to make the princess a wedding dress. A new kind of wedding dress, to be exact. This one was made of layers upon layers of shimmering blue fabric that reminded me of the ocean on a windy day. It had wide sleeves and an open neckline that gave me freedom to move. The ties pulled the material snug over the curves of my hips and breasts, but no part of it felt confining. I could breathe and twist and—hopefully later—dance. All the things I’d never been allowed to do before.
Lou stood behind me as I admired my reflection.
“A dress fit for a princess,” she said with a smile.
“I’m not a—” She squeezed me so hard I couldn’t continue the protest.
“You are, just like you were always meant to be. My princess. You’re mine.” She lifted up a trailing length of fabric the same blue as the dress but was so fine I could see right through it. It wafted gently in a draft we couldn’t see. “Are you sure about this?”
The first six months after the duke’s death had been tumultuous. Factions had risen up all over the city. Some had claimed the only way to free the country was through utter anarchy, with each farm or estate left to govern itself as it saw fit. Others demanded a return to even more rigid and traditional values than those enforced before. It was why we’d formed the Crown Council. We couldn’t honor every request or listen to every suggestion made, but it gave most views a chance to be heard. We wanted to move the country forward while adapting some of the old traditions in a way that wasn’t about control.
Like the veil that Lou held. The veils had been an easy way to signal change. We hadn’t banned them because I wanted to avoid absolute edicts like that, but I’d tried to lead by example, leaving my hair uncovered—though often braided for practicality’s sake—whenever I was out in public. Many had been quick to adopt the same attitude, but others, especially older women, had insisted on keeping their hair covered.
The fluttering cloth in Lou’s hand was an acknowledgement of who we had been, but also what was changing, and it was important for me to wear that today.
“Yes,” I said. “Put it on.”
She pinned it to the top of my head, leaving it to trail down the back. Today, I’d left my hair loose, and it fell softly over my shoulders. The veil hid nothing, but people would still see it and know what it was. On top, Lou slipped a thin gold wire that ran around my head in a fine circlet. I wouldn’t wear a crown. People called me a princess, but we weren’t ready to call me a queen. Maybe someday—though mistrust of supreme rulers in Redmere ran deep.
When I looked at my reflection again, my breath caught. Once upon a time, I’d stood in another room in this palace while my pulse had pounded in fear at the thought of getting married. No longer. Everything then had been wrong. Now, everything was right.
I reached behind me, taking Lou’s hand.
“Let’s go.”
The courtyard was fuller than it had ever been for Listening Ceremonies. We walked out onto the palace steps without any announcement or fanfare, but the crowd was ready and began to cheer loudly as soon as they saw us. Of course, there were others in the city, who didn’t see what we were about to do as a real marriage, but they must have been beyond the palace gates or had otherwise chosen to go about their day, because facing us was only joyful support.
Halfway down the steps, Rosie met me, holding out a bouquet of soft pink flowers.
“Every bride should have flowers on her wedding day,” she said. She held a second bunch and for a moment looked like she might hand them to Lou, then thought better of the idea. “You’d rather hold a sword anyway, wouldn’t you?”
Lou’s hand tightened on the small dagger at her belt. It was plain and functional but too small to do much more than peel an apple—a nod to the fact we had to believe we were safe in the open like this.
And we were. As we stood on the steps, looking out at those who had come to celebrate with us, the faces closest were all friendly. Ender stood with Marigold in his arms, while Rosie stood next to him, smiling proudly. On her other side were Briar and Hilary. Hilary had taken a seat on the council and had proven a valuable ally. He was measured in his actions but ultimately had a strong sense of what was right for the people learning to enjoy newfound freedom. That he had come today was a sign of his growing acceptance that there were ways to love people beyond what he had been taught growing up. He never seemed to catch Briar watching him the way he did sometimes, though. I hoped someday, Briar might turn his looks in a more receptive direction.
Next to them was Perdita, who stood at attention. Whatever she had communicated to the shipbuilders, I was happy to see she’d been able to make it to the courtyard quickly.
Standing next to Perdita, with an arm looped through hers, was Nel. She smiled when she caught my eye and gave me a shy wave. After her near-execution, we’d tried more than once to convince her to return to Sevnan. We’d even gotten so far as the gangplank of a ship that had promised to sail her north. But every time, she’d found an excuse to stay, and after a few months of missed opportunities, even Lou had agreed she’d become used to looking after the children whose families we couldn’t find. She had a natural gift with them. Yet sometimes, in quiet moments, I found her looking from the palace walls out toward the harbor. Raising orphans might not have been the adventure she’d dreamed of, and if she decided someday to follow those dreams somewhere else, we would help her find the right path.
Next to Nel was—
I gasped. “Lou. Look.”
Shrouded entirely in black like a shadow, Maro stood next to Nel. Their hood was pulled so low, I couldn’t even see their eyes, but the set of their chin and the way their hands hovered at their belt like they might need to pull free a dagger at any moment was obvious to anyone who knew them.
Lou twisted her mouth into something like a bittersweet smile. Of all of us, the transition to daily life in Redmere had been the hardest for them. They weren’t made to live in a castle and sit through council meetings. Lou could barely do it. For Maro, it had been impossible. They had been the most qualified for the mission in Divar, but sending them there had also been a kindness. What they would do when we’d retrieved all our children remained to be seen.
For now, though, they’d come, because no matter what Maro or Lou might say, they cared about each other, and Maro would want to be here. They might not bring gifts or spend the night dancing in celebration, but they’d still come to support Lou.
The wedding ceremony itself was simple. Gone were the days when a somber holy man intoned about obedience and obligation. We simply stood on the palace steps and promised to love each other forever. Such short words that committed us to so much. But there had never been anyone but Lou I wanted to make these promises to.
At last, she kissed my knuckles, and we lifted our joined hands as we faced the crowd. They cheered like they had once for Duke Aubrey, but I hoped now the cheer came from their hearts and with hope for a future that included them as participants, not simply pawns.
We walked hand in hand down the steps. Beyond the palace gates, a carriage was waiting. The wedding feast was to take place outside the city. Long tables had been carried through the gates and out to a particularly flat spot on the plains. Everyone was welcome to join and be treated as equals.
As we walked, Rosie grabbed hold of my hand.
“That was very nice,” she said, kissing my cheek.
“Was it? Not too ostentatious?”
“By palace standards, it was almost too pedestrian.”
Exactly as I’d wanted it, then. I didn’t want to hide, but that didn’t mean we’d needed entire days of celebration in our honor.
On Lou’s other side, Maro fell into step, though they kept their hood pulled up.
“Thank you for coming,” Lou said.
Maro grunted. “If anyone planned an assassination, it would have been during the ceremony. The guards and protection you had in place weren’t nearly adequate.”
The people around us were pressed so close to deliver their congratulations that I could feel Lou’s chuckle as she shook at Maro’s scolding.
Still, as we approached the edge of the crowd, people began to shout and stumble as though they were being pushed.
“Please. Please, let me through,” a woman said as well-wishers scrambled out of her way. Finally, she broke free, and she half ran, half crawled toward us. On instinct, Lou pulled me behind her, while Maro stepped in front of Lou. They gripped a knife in each hand.
“Stop where you are,” they said.
“Please.” The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed with tears, and her hair stuck out in wildly uneven clumps like it had been cut with a kitchen knife. “I need to speak with Princess Georgina.”
“What business do you have?” Maro asked.
Behind me, Rosie sighed and said something that sounded like “Not even on their wedding day.”
The woman stared wildly at us. Finally, she said, “My village is under attack. My whole family. They were—” But she couldn’t finish the sentence. Instead, the words dissolved into tears, and she crumpled to the ground. The people around her took a few nervous steps back.
Slowly, I pushed past Lou, who gave me a warning glance, then past Maro, who at least seemed satisfied that this woman posed no immediate threat.
“What happened?” I asked as I knelt down. I’d hear from Rosie later about the dirt on my dress.
It took a few great heaving breaths before she collected herself enough to tell the story.
“Mercenaries. A week ago. They rode into our village and burned everything. They took my daughter and killed my husband. They . . .” The further atrocities were lost in more sobs.
I glanced up at Lou and Maro, then at Rosie, who was quietly shaking her head. No doubt she was thinking of the food that would go to waste if we didn’t reach the feast. But nothing went to waste in Redmere, and a journey that took a week on foot would still take a few more days on horseback.
“Gather riders,” I said.
The preparations took a few hours, and while provisions were secured, Lou and I found ourselves in our rooms again, where this time, she helped me unpin the veil and undo the laces of the blue dress.
“This is sooner than I thought I’d get to undress you today,” she said.
I pressed both palms to her cheeks as I kissed her. “I’m sorry. Did I ruin our wedding?”
She laughed against my lips. “Not at all. It’s fitting, in a way. None of our plans ever seem to go quite the way we expected. Why should a wedding be any different?”
“When we get back to the city, I’ll make it up to you.”
“You don’t have to. Though”—she kissed my knuckles—“Nel was telling me in Sevnan, there’s a tradition called a marriage voyage where the new couple are given a month to travel where they can get acquainted.”
I laughed as I pulled on clothes better suited to traveling. “I don’t think we can get much better acquainted.”
“No. But a month with no obligations and no crises sounds very appealing, doesn’t it?”
Once, long before we had ever returned to Redmere, Lou had asked me to run away with her. Captain Cinder would retire, and we’d find a house in a country far away where no one had ever heard of us. We’d live quietly and grow old together and never have to worry about pirates or princesses or anyone else ever again.
Instead, this was the life we had chosen.
“Come on.” I tugged on her hand. “The others will be ready.”
“Wait.”
“What?” The sun would go down in a few hours. I wanted to be away from the city, making progress before it grew too dark.
Still, I didn’t resist when she pulled me in for one last kiss.
“I love you, Princess Georgina,” she said.
“I love you too, Captain Cinder. I am yours. Tonight and forever.”
Once upon a time, we had been two little girls running through a muddy forest and dreaming of adventure. Later, we had been separated and frightened. Later still, we had found each other again as strangers in familiar faces.
Now, this. As we had always been meant to be. This was our someday.
“Let’s go. They need us. Both of us.”
The pirate and the princess. Together.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m not usually the type to write acknowledgements, but this series deserves them. If you’re the sort of person who reads acknowledgements, I can only hope you come away with the understanding that books are never written and published in a vacuum, and these ones in particular have so much expertise and heart behind them.
Editors and proofreaders are wizards. I’ve believed that since the first time a marked-up manuscript showed up in my inbox. George and Lou’s story would not be half of what it is without the insight and diligence of Manuela Velasco, Jennifer Graybeal, Adam Mongaya, and Lori Parks.
Cate Ashwood is my hero. I tell that to anyone who makes any mentions of my covers, and in the ladies of the Uncharted world, she truly outdid herself.
Speaking of heroes, I still can’t believe Emily Woo Zeller agreed to bring my dream of publishing audiobooks to reality. I fangirl a little every time her email address appears on my screen. Thank you so much for your talent and your generosity.
Toronto friends who let me babble over coffee and only laughed a little while I sighed (okay, sometimes I cried too) at the unexpected hairpin turns this plot took, often without my intervention or input. KJ Aiello, Ailsa Bristow, Lily Chu—you all float my literary boat every single day.
And Ana, who reads the roughest of pages and promises me over and over again that they don’t suck. Somehow, you’re always right. Maybe you’re a wizard too. Everyone should be so lucky as to have you on their book-making crew.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Whether she knew it then or not, Alli Temple has been a writer since the second grade, when she wrote a short story about a girl and her horse. Her grandmother typed it out for her and said she’d never seen so many quotation marks from a seven-year-old before. Alli took that as a challenge and has tried to break that record in all the stories she’s taken on since then. It’s good to have goals, right?
Alli lives in Toronto with her very patient husband and a growing pack of rescue pets. She tries to split her time between writing, community theatre stage management, and traveling anywhere that has good wine. Tragically, this leaves no time to clean the house.
LGBTQ+ FANTASY BY ALLI TEMPLE
Afterlife Incorporated
Only Mostly Dead
The Pirate & Her Princess
Uncharted
Unbroken
Unleashed
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCES BY ALLISON TEMPLE
Out & About
Work-Love Balance
Honeymoon Sweet
The Seacroft Series
Top Shelf
Cold Pressed
Hot Potato
Shared Series
My Not-So-Super Blind Date (part of Subparheroes)
Under Her Roof (part of Accidentally Undercover)
Puppuccino (part of Bold Brew)
Standalone
Destination Bedding
The Neighbourly Thing
Up North
Boyfriend With Benefits
The Pick Up
Alli Temple, Unleashed
