Love and Chaos

The Second Duel to the Death

The wheels of the wyrm-drawn carriage crunched over the gravel path, drawing Bedlam further and further toward an unknown future.

It had been an hour since they had left his hometown, Raina practically dragging him to the carriage, and so far they had not said one word to each other. Raina lay sideways on the seat across from him, facing into the back cushion, so that he could not tell if she was crying, fuming, or plotting his death in the most painful manner, all of which seemed equally likely, given what had transpired at their wedding feast. Bedlam, for his part, had decided not to try striking up a conversation, because any topics worth discussing seemed likely to result in injury.

When Bedlam had previously thought about Styxians—which was a rare phenomenon on the moor—he had assumed that living next to a continent of weak and pacifistic humans would have dampened any goblins natural bellicose tendencies, but in Raina's case, it appeared to have instead given her an Empire-sized chip on her shoulder that manifested in unbridled rage. Ordinarily, any goblin would be honored to marry such a woman, but sitting across from her, after she had nearly dispatched his brother, was nerve-racking, especially now, as she sat up, turned, and glared at Bedlam as if he were next on her hit list.

"I have been contemplating your family's act of duplicity," she said evenly. "It seems like a rather ill-thought-out plan on all your parts, but if I'm to explain things properly to my Maiden Aunt, I must understand how it all came about. Explain."

Bedlam weighed what to say next. Lies may have worked during their brief, hour long engagement, but now that she knew the truth about the situation, he'd have to come clean.

"We needed resources."

"Well," she scoffed, "you're out of luck there. We won't be giving you so much as a rusty can from the Wastes."

"But... but the whole point of getting married—"

"We did not get married, Bedlam. I went to the moor to marry my agreed-upon betrothed, not some... interloper who couldn't be bothered to at least change the marriage contract so as not to give away his deception. That whole ceremony was a sham. A sham ceremony for a sham marriage... a sheremony for what I am certain is an invalid non-union. And this nonion of ours—if we can even call anything 'ours'—will be declared invalid when we get to Styx. Auntie has studied up on marriage law, you know? When you—or your brother, rather—never wrote me back, she was convinced something was amiss with the engagement. And to think, I thought she was being silly."

Having spent the first part of their journey in silence, it seemed that Raina was now making up for lost time, which spared Bedlam the trouble of trying to find the least dangerous reply to what she was saying.

"I've been thinking it all over," she continued, "and there's no way it will hold up. First, there is the matter of the marriage contract itself. One cannot just cross off one name and write another, nor sign for a name which isn't theirs. The very idea is laughable. Secondly, as far as our countries are concerned, the arrangement was resources in exchange for the hand of the first born son, not the second. I was just going to waive that fact when I thought the error was on our end, but now it shall become one more arrow in my quiver of invalidating evidence. So there's the contract and your non-primogeniture, and... hmm..."

She counted on her index and ring fingers just to be sure, but had clearly run out of reasons.

"I'm sure Auntie will be able to come up with more. It's totally invalid. I'm ninety percent sure. And even if it isn't, it's surely dissolvable, all things considered. I mean, it's not as if we've... you know... done anything... un-take-backable," she mumbled, then snapped, "and we aren't going to!"