Alliance

Chapter 3- Conjugium

Conjugium

Latin

Union

-
he says that vows flow away on the river,
stay no longer than stay the breaking waves.
-

The King of Narnia and the Princess of Rihaaya were wedded the first week of December, as a chill replaced the customary warmth of the land, amidst much pomp and grandeur.
Sanya wore red and gold and dazzling jewellery and a shimmering veil patterned with crystallised flowers, with fantastic stones and with an enormous bouquet of the most alluring of violets and tulips; Edmund wore blue and silver and a glittering cloak, with his silver birch-leaf crown; and the Great Hall was decorated in the most resplendent manner, with all sorts in the crowd- from devoted citizens all over Rihaaya to Calormen's Tarkheenas and the Lords of Telmar, from emotional fauns to stoic centaurs, from wispy dryads to the most substantial of palace guards.
But none of that could replace the emptiness in their hearts, or the absence of truth in their smiles- which had been worn simply for the gathered people- or the fact that, out of all their guests, Love wasn't one of them.
-

Sanya sat in the carriage, surreptitiously letting tears run down her face.
She didn't like crying- Princesses and Queens didn't cry, they bore everything with strength and stoicism. She never cried and on the rare, rare occasions she did so, it was in the confines and comfort of her room- a room which was no longer hers.
But after a lengthy and emotional goodbye with her family, where her parents had shed enough tears to irrigate a farm, she supposed a small bout of crying wasn't illogical or surprising. Or after her marriage- well, technically wedding.
Betwixt her tears, now came a hacking cough of a laugh. She was married! She could no longer call her soul her own, having joined in holy matrimony with a man she had spoken to less than five times- not counting the wedding vows.
What a sham. Desecrating what should be a union of love and turning it into a business deal.
She was nothing more than a pawn. Not a princess, or a future Queen, all she was was the means to an end.
And that thought created a fresh batch of tears, which trickled down her solemn and tragic face.

Her parents, her brother, Moonlight, Diana and her puppies, the flowers, her Library, her bedroom, the cosy nooks she used to sit and read in, the warmth and light which illuminated her face when she would go outside.
She was leaving everything behind.
She was leaving home.

The sound of footsteps suddenly jerked her back to normality, and she quickly wiped at her eyes with her mehendi-covered hands, furious at the thought of being discovered in a vulnerable moment.
Princesses don't cry.
She fixed her expression the best she could, just in the nick of time.

"I- am I disturbing?" Her husband- oh, mad world!- asked as he peered in the carriage window.

"No." She said, and ignored the way her voice wobbled. "Is anything the matter?"

Edmund shook his head, "No, it's just that they're saddling up your horse, so it'll be another few minutes before we can leave."

Her eyes widened and she practically threw herself out the window as she asked, "Moonlight? Moonlight is coming with me?"

"Your parents insisted." Edmund said, cracking a small smile at the sudden change in her. "And I like horses, and there's plenty of room in the stables at Cair, so why not?"

Sanya blinked, before the situation sunk in, and she hurriedly shrank back to her seat. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome, but it was no problem." He then turned, hearing someone call his name. His face reappeared in the window moments later. "Would you like me to travel in the carriage with you, or would you like solitude?"