22

Brennan's extended family came to Mephysta for the rehearsal of the wedding dinner. Around the supper table were gathered what remained of Theresa's relatives: her brother-in-law, Duke Archibald of Gelaur, who was only a few years younger than his now-deceased brother; Theresa's own sister Varlina, who never married, and their brother Charles, whose wife gave him fourteen children before the consumption took her; and two of her nieces and Charles's oldest son, Carlene, Lydia, and young Charles. The rest of Charles's children had left Bitamia, the large province that became part of the Zeraphaths' empire as a condition of Theresa's marriage to Tamesis. Theresa's father had been a savvy businessman, apart from how he governed his province; he bought his family into even greater prominence by marrying his daughter to the emperor's son, and from that alliance his family and their progeny prospered.

Scullery servants brought out each course of the meal to the family as they conversed. Marina, Sunila, and Kiki mostly sat and listened to the reminiscing of Theresa and her siblings, and Archibald's stories about Tamesis—and there was a wealth of memories to be recounted, as none of them had seen each other for decades. After the main course, before dessert was served, Brennan stood at the head of the table with Marina at his side. He and Barlow had worked for long hours putting together his speech, and in front of his closest relatives the words fell easily from his lips.

“Hello everyone. Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to be with us tonight. I hope you enjoyed this dinner our kitchen staff prepared for you tonight. The roast was amazing and I'm looking forward to the pineapple dessert they'll be bringing out soon.

“As you all know, this week I will be marrying Miss Marina Calder here at the chapelyard behind Mephysta. A week from today she and I will become the new monarchs of this empire that my father's family has built. I hope you'll all be able to attend both ceremonies, but if you can't I'm sure you'll hear about it some way or another.”

Brennan flashed a coy smile to his kin. It melted from his face as he locked eyes with his uncle, whose own eyes were aged and humorless. His brother's death had not been easy on the old duke; his face was gaunter than Brennan remembered it, and though he had not been garrulous before, Archibald had become much more of a brooding figure in the days since Tamesis's death than he had ever been in all the time Brennan could recall.

“Uncle Archibald has written recently to me, asking that I name a successor to his duchy, as he has no direct heir, and the death of my father has brought this issue to the forefront.

“As it goes in royal families, being the oldest son my father left me with the world at my disposal, and my poor brother with nothing but a few servants and a cottage in the hills. So I submit to both my uncle and my brother that Dmitriy be the inheritor of the duchy of Gelaur.”

The look on Dmitriy's face was hard for Brennan to read. He couldn't tell if it was one of shock, excitement, fear—or maybe some combination of the three. It was no small responsibility to rule, and Brennan was well aware that his brother had grown up without the slightest inclination toward responsibility, since it had not been in his future as a child. “I guess I should have told you first, before announcing it like this, Dim. I apologize.”

Dmitriy shook the alien expression from his face and put on the hint of a smile. “Don't be sorry, Bren. It's a happy surprise. Now get on with your speech so we can have dessert.”

The others at the table chuckled. Marina's eyes drifted between the two brothers, her thoughts torn between what they represented to her. In Brennan Marina found her anxiety over the new life she was about to embark upon, and the duties that were to come along with it. She didn't think she could be the empress that Zeraphathia required, or the wife Brennan needed her to be. And that was where her thoughts found Dmitriy, to the marriage in which Marina was already unfaithful. She could only court with the horrors of how Brennan would react if he found out about their affair. In her heart of hearts Marina wished that he would never come to know of it, and that it might continue—even if she would not admit this to herself. She in fact could not touch this thought; her mind could poke and sniff about it, but if ever she brought the idea to consciousness she quickly banished it back into the blackness of her subconscious. It felt as if everyone near her could read Marina's thoughts through her eyes, and that dread was even stronger surrounded by her fiancé's relatives.

Marina came out of her reverie and looked up to Brennan, who had resumed his speech when her mind had wandered. “...now I'm sure you're all sick of listening to me and are ready for dessert. So, without further adieu, Marlene, please tell the staff to bring out the pineapple sundaes.”

Brennan sat down beside Marina. Marlene knocked with her open palm on the kitchen door, and almost at once a silver cart burst through the doorway, bearing small dessert plates with little dessert utensils and a small pineapple sundae on each plate. These were slices of grilled pineapple, each with one scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, all drizzled with caramel sauce. Once everyone had a dish set before them, they slowly indulged in the sweet treat and the conversations reminiscing about this union of two imperial families in its prime.

“I loved your speech at dinner,” Marina said, once she and Brennan reached the door to her suite. “You were very witty.” She smiled up at him and wrapped a small, delicate hand around one of his.

For a second it seemed to her that Brennan almost blushed. “Barlow wrote most of it. A master speech writer, that man is—but thanks, I'll take the compliment.” Brennan let his free hand brush against Marina's cheek affectionately before he rested it atop the gold door handle to her wing of the palace. He bent down to kiss Marina lightly on the lips, then retreated from her. The early buds of love had taken root in Brennan's heart for this girl, but even as they were engaged he did not want to create scandal for her with premarital intimacy.

Marina herself felt her heart fluttering in her bosom. She wanted to kiss him again but restrained herself. In some ways she felt guilty to kiss Brennan when she knew that his brother would come to her bedside only a few hours later. “Good night.” Marina's eyes averted from Brennan's to the door, and the man, eighteen years her senior, threw it wide for her.

“Good night,” Brennan replied, as Marina stepped through the doorway beneath his outspread arm. He shut the door behind her and retired to his own chambers, to remove the stiff collar from his throat and drown a pony of scotch before he crawled into his massive and empty bed.