Chapter 10: Chapter 9- Bleeding

Wesley Seynard sat on an uncomfortably lumpy, cushioned chair at the head of a table that sat much of his blood family and newlywed’s family. He and his new wife were at the highest point of the entire feast hall, like the crown on the head of a ruler.

All eyes were on them. All conversations were about to the ceremony, the wedding vowels, and the beautiful new couple.

It was nauseating. Wesley hated the attention. He couldn’t wait for the night to be over.

Sweat dripped from his brow. The feast hall was hot. Hearths raged all around the room, candles hung from metal chandeliers, and the enclosed space was packed with hundreds of guests, all drinking, feasting, and dancing.

It was the largest room in the entire palace of Chateau Cardell, and it was full of strangers and sycophants.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Wesley flicked his long, brown hair back. His ocean eyes stung. His ears were drowning in the sound of conversation, clatter, and music.

Just a few more hours to go, then I can be rid of these fools.

Guests had arrived from across Alyria to attend his wedding. Blacktrees and Seynards comprised most of the attendees. The guests mostly comprised of highborns, nobles, lords, and barons from across the kingdoms. King Justen Mannering of Stonebridge, a boy of just twelve years. Baron Artima Lowe of Veridia, the ‘Old Bear’, as he was known. Baroness Emilia Erma of Fentis. Too many faces to identify and names to remember all at once.

Platters of roasted chicken, juicy venison, steamed vegetables, and hot, baked breads sat before Wesley untouched.  The foods, while mostly Caldaean-grown, were plated on expensive serving dishes and silver platter trays crafted in Dawnhill, one of Caldaea’s vital trade partners.

Anytime Wesley saw wares from the neighbouring kingdom, it filled him with loathing. That said, he ironically disregarded the fact that the wine he had been sipping at all night was poured into an Ashen-crafted goblet.

The captain of the city watch, Ser Isec Batir, approached the newlywed’s table, shadowed by several soldiers from the watch. The brutish man was tall, clad in shining armour and had a neatly trimmed beard. He bowed to the couple to pay his respects.

“I wish you a lifetime of happiness, my prince and princess.”

Wesley rolled his eyes but made sure not to let the captain see. “Yes, yes,” he said, unamused.

Isec had something held behind his back. “I would like to present you a gift, from all of us at the city watch.”

“Oh?” Wesley said, raising an eyebrow.

Isec presented a dagger before the prince. It’s fresh-forged blade was polished and shining. The handle, while nothing exquisite, looked to be expensive resin with golden crossguards.

“Master Deniter of Ashen is one of the finest blacksmiths on the continent, my prince,” Isec said proudly. “Had this poignard specially designed and crafted for you. Sharp enough to cut through bone, Deniter boasted!”

Wesley nodded. Despite having no kind feelings towards the captain, he could not deny that it was an incredible gift.

“I’ve got to say, you did well, Batir. It is a fine gift,” Wesley said, keenly taking the weapon. He slipped the dagger into his belt before waving the men away, knocking over his goblet and spilling his wine all over.

“Servant, another,” Wesley said, pointing at the fallen goblet.

An Anai slave promptly wiped up the mess. The red wine flowed elegantly like a waterfall of incoming relief for Wesley.

He took another sip before feeling a soft hand grab his. He looked over at his new wife, a beauty named Ciana Blacktree, from the royal family in Ashen. Ciana was the most sought-after princess in all the kingdoms.

Young, fertile, rich, and with a powerful name.

Ciana smiled at her new husband with white teeth and cherry lips. On her head sat a traditional ornate headdress, stitched with jewels and gems of all colours. Her ebony hair was tightly braided with silk ribbons and flowed out to her shoulders from underneath the stunning headdress.

Wesley could not deny the princess’s beauty.

But he had only ever had one woman on his mind, and it was not Ciana.

Ciana leaned over and kissed his unshaven cheek. “Everything alright, my love? You seem tense.”

‘Love?’ We have known each other for a day.

“Everything is fine,” Wesley replied with a forced smile. “Just tired is all.”

Someone approached the grand table. It was Wesley’s father, Tobius, with a sleazy grin across his face.

“Not too tired, I hope,” Tobius chuckled. He kissed his daughter-in-law’s outstretched hand as a courtesy, although appeared to enjoy the gesture a little too much. “We expect the princess to have a son or daughter in her belly by the morning!”  

All those around who heard King Tobius’s comment laughed and applauded in support. A pregnant bride on the wedding night was one of Wesley’s duties. He felt his cheeks grow red.

Tobius smiled pompously at the attention his comment received. His bronze crown sat unevenly atop his bald head.

Wesley and Ciana squirmed awkwardly in their seats at the thought of being intimate with one another. They had only just met. She looks young enough to be a child.

Tobius staggered away, sipping his wine.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking. How old are you exactly, my lady?” Wesley whispered into his wife’s ear.

She leant over to reply. “Sixteen, my prince.”

“Sixteen?”

“Yes, my prince.”

She is a child. Wesley was ten years her senior. Moon Mother, how can this be?

Most noble girls in Alyria were married off while they were young and fertile. However, something about it did not sit right with Wesley.

He could not ignore her beauty, her allure. He felt attracted to this girl, there was no denying. His mind became a hive of dissonance.

Ciana’s father, King Emery Blacktree of Ashen, walked up from the crowded floor where he had been conversing with nobles to his daughter’s hand, before bowing to his new son-by-law.

Emery had a strong presence about him, an unspoken power that he gave off. Standing with Emery would make any man feel inferior. The presence of a true king.

Wesley hoped his new father-by-law hadn’t heard his father’s crude jest. Tobius was insufferable at the best of times, but when he drank, he could become reckless.

Making such lude jokes about King Emery’s daughter was a risky thing to do. Emery was probably the most powerful man in Alyria, and Wesley knew what was riding on this wedding.

Tobius stumbled over to Emery, raising a goblet for a toast and facing the crowd. The music stopped and the crowds went quiet, awaiting the king’s speech.

“The ancestors of we Seynards were the first true Alyrians. We tamed the wilds and built cities from the very earth itself!” the king boasted.

Wesley noticed some of the Anai slaves around the hall lower their heads solemnly.

Tobius continued his speech. “Our lands are beautiful and rich. We hail the Moon Mother for all the blessings she has bestowed unto us. Tonight, we celebrate peace!

“For many long years, the kingdoms of Caldaea and Ashen have been at odds with one-another. We have fought valiantly to defend our borders, to uphold our cultures, and to protect our freedoms. But as of one year ago on this day, peace was achieved between our two nations, and an end to the border conflict was reached.

“I, Tobius Seynard, King of Caldaea, and Emery Blacktree, King of Ashen, agreed to end the war, and settle our differences through matrimony!”

The hall erupted with applause and cheering. The relief felt when an end to the conflict was reached was widespread and across every group. Caldaea’s economy had made a turnaround ever since as old trade links were re-established and industry could again thrive.

It had been a necessary, lucrative venture to seek peace for both kingdoms.

King Tobius took a sip out of his goblet, wine spilling down his chin. He mumbled before continuing, his crown tipped further offside.

“We promised to wed my firstborn son and Emery’s firstborn daughter as a gesture of peace, and so here we are today! Moon Mother, bless this happy couple with your light and radiance! May this marriage serve as a union between our two families, our two Houses, and as a symbol of prosperity for Caldaea and Ashen.”

Wesley sighed, rubbing his temples. The crowd stomped on the floors with approval, clapping their hands, shouting support, and swigging their drinks. The royal families seated at the high tables gave applause.

King Emery shook Tobius’s hand firmly, adjusted his own golden crown and raised his drink. “Creator’s love to this wedding and to our two kingdoms. Let there be peace once again between Ashen and Caldaea.”

Wesley took another mouthful of wine, bringing warm, sweet flavours of summer and the tang of berries to his mouth. It went down smoothly, and his head began to spin.

This was not the sort of wedding Wesley had ever imagined for himself. It was a political stunt. He was unsure if he was more disappointed at his father for forcing such a thing upon him, or at his own naivety for expecting to be able to ever get what he wanted.

Tobius finished his toast with one more drunken announcement. “Tomorrow, we shall continue our celebrations with the Uniting Tourney, in the name of the Moon Mother and the newly married couple. The food and wine shall flow from dawn to dusk! Knights from across the kingdoms shall joust and race and melee for our pleasure, while the lords and ladies of Chateau Cardell extend their hospitality to the city streets for all to enjoy!”

King Emery went and sat further along the high table with his wife, Queen Sirillia. She coughed into a handkerchief before sipping some water. The woman was sickly and frail. Rumour had it she had been suffering with a long battle of lungrot.

Wesley was surprised she had attended the ceremony at all, let alone was feeling well enough to be at the reception so late into the night.

The celebration went on, but despite the dancing crowds and the wedding feast, all that Wesley wished for was to have Jodie in his arms again. Her silky black hair, soft skin, and adorable dimples.

He could see her as he closed his eyelids. Beautiful and serene, yet also strong of will and intelligent.

Wesley still fondly remembered the first night he ever lay with Jodie, in a barn outside the city. The way the moonlight shone off her smooth skin. The smell of her perfume as he took her in his arms.

They were so young. It was so long ago.

Wesley suddenly became aware of the arousal in his trousers, snatching him away from his daydreaming. He took another sip of wine as the reception continued and he was dragged back into his unpleasant reality.

“A wine lover, are you, my prince?” Ciana asked gently, trying to ease the tension between the two. “I’ve heard your father is fond of wine, too.”

Ciana had such soft features and a pleasant tone, why then did Wesley feel so conflicted about all that was happening?

Wesley smiled awkwardly. “Actually, no. I find it makes me rather dizzy.” The room was becoming a blur.

Ciana appeared confused. Wesley could see she was asking herself why then he would be drinking so much.

“My prince, I wanted to say that I’m so very happy that we are bringing peace between our kingdoms through this marriage,” Ciana said.

Wesley nodded. “As am I, my lady.” He spoke politely, but only what he felt was expected of him. “We waged war for many, unnecessarily long years, over scraps of land and shreds of honour. The border conflicts were misguided, from both sides, so I am glad that both sides have now seen the light.”

Ciana grinned before speaking unsurely, “I must say, I n-never thought I’d marry a prince as handsome as-”

“Look, Ciana,” Wesley said, taking her hand and leaning in to make sure nobody around them heard their conversation. He would not keep the charade going. “I want you to know I had nothing to do with this wedding. You seem lovely, but-”

“My prince, do not worry. I am prepared to do my wifely duties. Throughout our marriage, and tonight of course.”

“No,” Wesley snapped, shaking his head vigorously. “I do not want that.”

“I have prepared-”

“No, I will not do it.”

“But we must, my prince. For our kingdoms. It is tradition to bed on the wedding night in both our cultures, is it not?”

“Fuck tradition, I will not bed a child.” It was all he could come up with to shut her up.

Ciana sat in disbelief with teary eyes over Wesley’s sudden snap. She stood up and marched away from the table in tears, her handmaidens following her like chicks to a mother hen.

Wesley rested his face in his hands, frustrated. Moon Mother, let this night end.

All he wanted to do was run away and hide. But where would he go? Who could he turn to? Wesley was trapped. He could not disappoint his father and bring shame upon the family name, but how could he force happiness in such a dire situation?

Ciana had fled to her mother’s side. He could not hear their words, but Queen Sirillia had clearly noticed her daughter’s tears and attempted to comfort her with an embrace.

Sirillia’s gaze shifted to Wesley and then back to Ciana. She spoke some words in Ciana’s ear with a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder.

What was Sirillia saying to her? Was she speaking ill of Wesley?

Wesley felt incredibly uncomfortable. His formal attire was itching him, the seat cushion was lumpy, and he could feel many pairs of judging eyes upon him, evaluating him.

The doors to the feast hall opened with a groan across the way.

And then Wesley saw her.

Jodie Blacktree.

Wesley had met her back when she was Jodie Mannering when both were just children. She had made his insides ache from the very first day he ever laid eyes on her.

Just like that, all his thoughts seemed to drip from his body like a melting candle.

Jodie stepped into the feast hall through the main doors wearing a silver laced gown and shining jewellery, her arm interlocked with her husband’s, Ciana’s older brother, Petir.

Petir Blacktree was wearing a dark hose jacket and trousers, his hair slicked back, with a pompous face that was asking to be punched.

Wesley had never much cared for Petir Blacktree. The man worried a little too much about his appearance, just as his father did. He had a straight posture and high chin, as if to always be looking down on others.

Jodie, however, glowed like moonlight. Her onyx hair was tied behind her head, held together firmly with two long hair pins. Not a traditional style, yet stunning, nonetheless.

The couple were greeted by noble lords and family members as they walked in. Jodie gave a hug to her cousin and closest living relative, King Justen Mannering as soon as she spotted him.

All the while, Wesley couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful Jodie. He had been longing to see her, but he felt his stomach twist as soon as he had. It had been so long. Years, in fact.

Ciana promptly returned to her chair having wiped her face and readjusted her headdress. She seemed genuinely excited to receive her brother and sister-by-law.

Petir and Jodie made their way through the crowd, reaching the newly married couple. Petir bowed and Jodie curtseyed with smiles all around.

“I always knew you’d make a stunning bride. Look at you!” Petir exclaimed with raised eyebrows. “Don’t I have the most beautiful sister in the world?”

Ciana’s cheeks went red as she attempted to hold back a smile.

“You sure do,” Jodie said. “You look beautiful, sister. Apologies for the late arrival. Our carriage lost a wheel on the road to Andervale.”

“Not a problem at all. We are glad you could make it to the reception,” Wesley said.

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“It’s so good to see you both,” Ciana said gleefully. “Jodie, you look amazing. You must introduce me to your dressmaker in Dawnhill. The stitching on that dress, it’s divine!”

“Actually, this gown is from home. I had it made in Stonebridge and delivered especially for tonight,” Jodie responded, stroking the fabric.

She had always been proud of her Midland heritage, ever since she was a small girl. She might have been a Blacktree, but ‘Jodie Mannering’ would never cease to exist within her.

Wesley had always loved that about Jodie. He couldn’t help but gawk at her beauty.

“Congratulations, Wesley,” Petir said, shaking the prince’s hand. “You’re a very lucky man, I hope you know.”

“I sure am.” Wesley’s gaze remained on Jodie.

“I dare say, this wedding is almost as big as our own,” Petir boasted, looking at his wife. “Almost. It’s a shame your family does not have a larger feast hall, like ours in Alderhall. You could have held a much larger reception!”

Ciana awkwardly smiled at her brother’s comment. Wesley, however, was not as amused. He could tell that Petir was hiding insults in amongst his words. That was the sort of man he was.

“A shame, yes,” Wesley said. “Although I do believe my father prioritised feeding the kingdom over unnecessary luxuries these past few years. Given the border war, and all. Most would agree feeding the populace is more important.”

Petir looked unimpressed. “Mhm, the war. The one that House Seynard started? All because your father wanted to extend the reach of Caldaea into Ashen lands to set you up for a much larger reign than his own, I believe? If I am not mistaken?”

The tension was as thick as fog.

“The war we ended, as well. Yes.”

“Ended, surrendered. The two words are interchangeable to your family!”

Wesley’s face went red. “Perhaps if Ashen hadn’t choked our economy with trade tariffs-”

“Oh, please!” Petir shouted.

“Boys,” Jodie interjected. They went quiet, realising that others were staring at them. Jodie leaned in, “I think the cock-measuring contest is after dinner, so put them away.”

Ciana could not help but snort. It was not common for a highborn, let alone a future queen, to curse.

“It’s a wedding, not a duel. The war is over.”

“Speaking of duels,” Petir said, “why don’t we settle this tomorrow, like real men? You and I, Wesley. One-on-one combat at the tourney. It’ll be fun!”

The thought got Wesley’s heart pumping. He hadn’t been allowed to spar with anyone in years, and he’d never fought in a tournament before. Plus, it would give him a chance to humiliate Petir in a show of strength and ability in front of a huge crowd!

King Tobius stumbled over drunkenly. “Oh, no, no, no. My son will not be fighting tomorrow, or at any time. He is far too important for such frivolous things.”

Petir hid a smirk behind his hand.

“Father,” Wesley sighed, rolling his eyes. “Petir is challenging me to a duel, it would be rude of me not to accept. Cowardly, even.” In truth, he just wanted an excuse to kick Petir’s pompous arse into the dirt.

Tobius belched as he drank. “You are my only son, my heir. I will not have you participating in such risky activities. Let the knights play their games. That’s all they are good for, anyway.”

Tobius snorted at his own joke.

“Father, I really must insist-”

Tobius raised his voice in anger. “You will not backtalk me, boy. The answer is no. Princes do not fight in tourneys.”

There was nothing more Wesley could say, he knew. His father’s word was final.

Jodie tugged on Petir’s sleeve. “Come, let’s eat.”

Wesley, still red-faced over his father’s outburst, stopped Jodie in her tracks. He needed to say something, anything, to her. “My lady… I just wanted to say that… you look stunning.”

He could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Jodie smiled back without a word. He took her hand from across the table and kissed it. Jodie held his hand for a moment, and Wesley felt her slip a piece of what felt like paper into his closed fist, out of sight of everyone else.

His eyes grew wide with excitement.

“We have two seats waiting for you at our table, if you are hungry,” Wesley said, pointing to his side where the rest of the Blacktree family were seated and dining. He slid the paper into his pocket.

Petir and Jodie made their way over to their seats as Tobius teetered around the hall, greeting guests, and making questionable comments. The band played on.

“I’m sorry about my father,” Wesley said.

“It’s alright, my prince,” Ciana said.

“He’s a stubborn man.”

“Most kings are, I think.”

“And… I just wanted to apologise for before, my lady,” Wesley spoke into Ciana’s ear. “I must have had a bit too much to drink, I think.”

“No apology needed. You are a prince, and it is your wedding night. You are allowed to drink.” Her lips quivered as she spoke. She had been trained well to appease a husband; Wesley could tell.

The celebrations went on. Dancers in white and yellow gowns performed a traditional dance as the crowd clapped to the beat of the instruments. They wore crescent masks of white, covering their powdered faces.

Wesley observed his father, drink in hand, staggering towards Emery and Petir as they sat at their seats.

Drunk again. His father had a bad reputation for being loud-mouthed and a heavy drinker, on top the other rumours talked about him and his treatment of women.

Wesley decided he would step in to avoid any further humiliation with his new extended family. He did not want things getting any worse.

“If you’ll excuse me, my lady, I’m going to attempt to save your father and brother from my father.”

Ciana smiled back. “Good luck.”

The music was playing louder as the crowd danced and drank. The band played lutes and flutes while stomping on the stage to help amplify the beat.

Wesley strode over to the conversation, placing an arm around his father’s broad shoulders. He could smell the ale on his breath.

“Aye, aye, it’s a time of great strife in Alyria. Strange reports from across the kingdoms, the death of Queen Mira Bower. A red star in the sky! And now an invasion from the Akurai Empire!” Tobius babbled on.

King Emery is the most powerful man on the continent, and here my father is making drunken small talk with him! Wesley did not know whether to be embarrassed or impressed.

King Emery Blacktree was well-mannered and despite his new ally’s clear intoxication, continued with the discussion in a civil manner. “Indeed, it is quite worrying to hear of such adversities.” The man stood tall at six-foot, had a short, neat beard, and a strong, square jaw. “Nonetheless, we shall prevail through whatever hardships our kingdoms may face in the future.”

“Nothing like a good wedding to inspire peace in the land,” Petir said.

“We will make it through!” Tobius laughed, spilling some of his drink as he raised his goblet. “Caldaea is strong, and Ashen is stronger still.”

Emery and Petir both raised their drinks at the compliment and took a sip.

“Those bloody Stonehearts will throw those Imperials back into the sea. They’re rude, they’re violent, but they pack a mean punch. I have certainty that we have nothing to fear from an invasion in the northern kingdoms,” Tobius said.

“Nonetheless, if King Ulmer weren’t so stubborn, I would have sent reinforcements to help aid with the threat,” Emery said. “Alas, the hubris of the man never ceases to amaze. He has denied every one of my offers.”

Tobius chuckled, patting Emery on the shoulder. “Bloody Stonehearts!”

Wesley saw an opportunity and took a chance. “Father, how about we come sit down for a moment, I think you’ve had plenty to drink for the night.”

“Nonsense!” Tobius said sternly. “The celebrations have only just begun!”

“Yeah, Wesley. We are all enjoying your father’s…insights,” Petir sneered, his stoic jaw that he had inherited from his father looking as punch-able as ever.

“Father, we do not want to insult the bride or her family on the wedding night with discussions of invasion and political strife. Surely such matters can wait until the morrow.”

Tobius agreed. “Oh, alright. Very well.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” Wesley said to Emery and Petir, bowing to the Blacktrees. He sat his father down at his chair. “Have some venison, father.”

Wesley left his father once he was sure he was distracted with some deliciously juicy venison. He filled another goblet full of wine, the liquid warming his belly, before going back to his new wife. She sat motionless in her chair, watching over the celebrations, expressionless. The silence between them was deafening. Wesley attempted to cut it.

“So, my lady, is this your first time in Andervale?” Wesley asked.

“Um, yes, it is.” Ciana pouted her lips, containing her emotions.

“What do you think of the capital? How does it compare to Dawnhill?” Wesley tried to avert his eyes from Jodie, focusing on Ciana.

“Actually, this is the farthest from Dawnhill I’ve been in my entire life. It’s all so different. The smells, the sounds, the food, the people, it’s quite an experience.” Ciana looked around at all the unfamiliar people in the hall. She took off her headdress and stared at it. “Even this is foreign to me. We do not wear such things in Ashen.”

“I guess it would seem quite odd to an outsider. But such things are customary here. The bridal headdress is a symbol of purity to the Moon Mother. Our festivities must differ in many ways from yours.”

“The Moon Mother? I’ve only read a little about her in my studies. She sounds… interesting.”

“That’s one word for her. Others call her archaic,” Wesley said.

As the couple conversed, an old man strode into the feast hall, wearing a long white robe with black lining and a tall hat. The old man, like all other lumins who worshipped the Moon Mother, had most of his face covered in a four-pointed, star-shaped mask of white. The bottom point of the mask was the longest, reaching down to the chest before turning into a crescent.

His clothing marked him as the True Luminance- the one man responsible for sharing the Moon Mother’s white light in Andervale.

Behind the True Luminance entered a procession of other lumins in long robes, hands clasped together.

“What’s going on?” Ciana asked.

“Speaking of the Moon Mother, the True Luminance is here for our Bleeding,” Wesley said.

“Our what?”

The music died down and the crowd parted as the True Luminance and his procession of holy members made their way towards the high table. The True Luminance held up a glimmering white ceremonial knife.

“Moon Mother, bless this royal wedding with your white light,” the True Luminance chanted with a raspy voice. His followers repeated after him, chanting to themselves. “Unify this couple for life.”

Wesley stood up out of his chair, taking his wife’s hand and walked out in front of their dining table towards the True Luminance. Ciana was unsure; his mask looked alien to her, but Wesley gripped her hand firmly as if to tell her it was all going to be alright. He had seen a dozen Bleedings in his life and knew what had to be done.

The True Luminance approached the couple and shouted. “Bring these two souls together, through life and through death.”

Wesley gave his hand out to the True Luminance and nodded at Ciana to tell her to do the same. “Don’t worry.”

Everyone in the hall was watching. Hundreds of eyes, all on them. The Seynards watched eagerly; the Blacktrees watched with confused looks.

The True Luminance made a slice across the palm of Wesley’s right hand with the ceremonial knife. He grimaced at the sharp pain and felt warm blood flow from the wound.

Ciana looked petrified, but knew she had to do what was expected. The True Luminance then sliced her left palm open in the same manner. Ciana winced but stood tall next to her husband.

Emery Blacktree looked visibly concerned for his daughter. Yet, he said nothing and allowed it to continue.

Wesley took his new wife’s cut hand with his own cut hand, raising them into the air. Their blood flowed together down their arms in rivers of red.

The True Luminance rejoiced. “Hear me, Moon Mother! They have made their sacrifice. They are fit to remain together for all eternity, in the shadow of Rea and Ixo! For nothing is more sacred than blood.”

The crowd applauded and cheered for Wesley and Ciana in a roar of support. Their fathers clapped in approval, Emery not looking as impressed as Tobius clearly was. Both smiled through the pain and kept their bleeding hands locked together.

Wesley knew that once the Bleeding had been performed, that it was time for the bedding. He had hoped no one would bring it up, but before he could even think what to do next, the Caldaeans in the room all began chanting. “Once bled, it’s off to bed! Once bled, it’s off to bed!”

Ciana’s eyes were wide with uncertainty.

Wesley leant over to her and whispered, “We must keep our hands locked until we reach the bed chamber.”

The crowd gathered around the couple, forming a tunnel between the people towards the side door of the feast hall. All the while, Wesley could not take his mind off the note Jodie had slipped him that remained in his pocket.

Hand in hand, Wesley and Ciana were funnelled through towards the door by the True Luminance’s followers.

In amongst the crowd, Wesley locked eyes with Jodie. She looked just as dejected as Wesley felt. But he knew he had no choice.

I’m sorry, Jodie. What am I doing?

“Once bled, it’s off to bed! Once bled, it’s off to bed!”

Wesley and Ciana were taken through the side door with a cheer from the crowd. They were led by the lumins up a stone spiral staircase to the candle-lit bed chambers, where the doors were barred from the outside.

They would be locked in all night.

His hand ached. His arm was bloody. And before him, Ciana stepped up to the bed and undressed in the moonlight as was expected of her.

I can’t do this.

With teary eyes, Ciana gently took Wesley’s hand and placed it against her soft breast. She hesitantly kissed his neck, sending a chill down his body.

He could not help himself but be aroused at the naked beauty before him, no matter how hard he tried not to.

Wesley felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was going to crack.

I have to do this, don’t I?

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