The shadows were growing long when a single, low note summoned all of the nomads, eastern and western alike as well as their guests to the main campfire. The clouds had gathered and a light shower of snow drifted down, endlessly caught in the breeze so that the flakes danced above their heads. Everyone wore their coats, cloaks and wraps, their toes curling inside their boots, their faces feeling the nip of the frigid air even as they pressed their gloved hands deep into their pockets.

  Aalis wore the fur mantle she had been gifted as well as the boots, opting for her thickest gown with two layers beneath to stave off the chill. She walked between Judd and Verne, both of whom were silent. Yet if she was pressed, she would have said that their silences were different to each other. Judd was grim, resolute in what was about to happen but Verne appeared agitated, seething beneath a very thin veneer of calm.

  Emeri held close to her parents, Revna’s situation an unpleasant reminder of what could have happened to her had Caste not intervened. As if recalling that moment, Emeri’s dark eyes glanced across and over the crowds, finally spying Caste near the bottom of the natural steps. He was dressed as he always was, in his tunic and cappa clausa but, surprisingly, he had chosen to wear the best version of his Grail uniform and Emeri had even spied him polishing the four pointed star pendant. The heat of the fire didn’t reach Caste where he was so he wrung his hands together, trying to keep them warm.

  He looked around the gathering bodies of the nomads, a sea of greys, browns and cream and for a moment they alighted on Emeri. He quickly shifted his gaze and found Judd instead. He jerked his head and Judd nodded, skirting the edge of the gathering, coming up behind Caste as closely as he dared.

  “Caste?”

  “She knows.” Caste whispered.

  “She knows?”

  “Elk’s daughter. She knows Giordi isn’t the one and told him as much.”

  “And he’s still marrying her?” Caste nodded. “Why?”

  “He feels responsible for her situation and quite frankly, I agree with him.” Caste frowned. “It’s possibly the first time I’ve ever agreed with him. Ironic isn’t it?”

  “Ironic?”

  “We finally agree…and I’m serving as his translator/best man.”

  The crowd stiffened as Chief Elk appeared with Revna on one side of him and Giordi in full nomadic groom apparel on the other. Glowering at Giordi with hate filled eyes was Sten in the stance of a guard just itching for something to go wrong so he could unleash his fury.

  But Giordi was the dutiful groom and, with Caste translating quietly and as fast as he could, Giordi managed to get through the ceremony with the correct responses. Revna’s face was almost entirely covered, only her eyes visible through her veil and shawl, in a gown that rivalled Aalis’ gifted outfit. Judd had slipped back to where his companions stood, watching the proceedings. The wedding ceremony was not complicated, over in a matter of minutes. At the end, Chief Elk made a proclamation that went over Judd’s head. He turned to Emeri.

  “What did he say?” He whispered.

  “All past transgressions are resolved in this marriage. Giordi Gavoli is one of us.”

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  Immediately the crowd began to disperse as Giordi and Revna went back up the steps side by side. Chief Elk only watched them go, his expression unreadable but Sten followed them, probably making sure that Giordi didn’t leg it the moment he could.

  “And that’s that.” Verne shook his head and walked off.

  “What’s his problem?” Judd wondered.

  “I will ask…” Aalis hurried after Verne who disappeared into their tent. She found her friend stuffing clothes into her pack without any care, cramming everything in. “Verne?”

  “What?”

  “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Aalis shook her head. “No, Verne, you cannot lie to me.”

  Verne tipped her head back and laughed mockingly. “Please…you of all people don’t get to call me a liar.” Aalis’ lips fell open into a small, silent gasp at the coldness in Verne’s voice. “You hold more secrets to yourself than anyone. Why you talk like an upper class Astaril resident but you were raised a witch? How you held off the sirens in the channel and how you survived the hydra? You’ve got more to hide than I.”

  “I do not know what you mean…” Aalis trembled.

  Verne looked at her, her blue eyes chilly and hard. “Yet another lie.” She stood up and walked past her. “I’m sick of it. I’m sick of all of it…”

  Giordi could feel Sten’s eyes drilling into the back of his head as he and Revna entered what he guessed was the ‘wedding night’ tent. Giordi pulled the flap aside and allowed Revna in first, ducking his head and closing the flap behind him, shutting out the chill, both in the air and in the people.

  “Well,” Giordi cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together, “not quite the wedding I envisioned for myself but one could not have asked for a more beautiful bride.” He caught sight of Revna’s frightened expression and sighed, dropping his shoulders and shedding his act of confident indifference. “Sorry…old habits.”

  She shook her head. “You just…you sound like him for a moment.”

  “Ugh.” Giordi shuddered. “I apologise.”

  Revna clutched her hands together.

  Giordi shifted on his feet.

  They didn’t meet each other’s gaze yet somehow they were both drawn to look at the arranged furs and blankets lay, warmed by coals in metal pans tucked beneath the layers. Giordi wondered what Revna was thinking and instinctively glanced at her, finding she had done the same. She turned away immediately, her veil quivering as her shoulders shook. Giordi cleared his throat.

  “Revna…I…”

  She faced him, every sinew and muscle tight, willing herself not to shake. Giordi watched as she drew her shawl and veil away, revealing her ashen hair braided into several strands. Her pale grey eyes closed as she pulled at the ties of her mantle, the heavy outer layer slipping from her body, revealing the bridal gown she wore, heavily pregnant yet elegant.

  Her fingers began to loosen the laces on her dress, the bodice beginning to slip. Giordi, realising what she was doing a little too late, watched the dress fall to the ground. Revna trembled in front of him for a long, awkward moment. Suddenly regaining his senses, Giordi darted forward and scooped up her mantle, wrapping it around her shoulders and as much of her frontage as he could manage.

  “This is not necessary…” He blurted.

  Revna’s shoulders bowed. “I repulse you.”

  “What? No!” Giordi exclaimed then, at the sight of her frightened expression, lowered his tone, grasping her hands, drawing her to the bed so she could sit. “No,” he said softly, “it is not that you repulse me…but I would never sleep with a woman who did not want me in return.” He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Truth be told, I’m not as brilliant with women as I make out. Not until Haern and I switched places and I learned how to be a gentleman…mingling manners with good looks and even then…” He saw that his rapid speech was confusing her and he forced himself to slow down. “You’re lovely…but you’re not in love with me.” He gave her hands a squeeze then drew back. “You sleep here and I’ll…” He looked around and tried to find somewhere else he could curl up and keep warm. Even with the insulated tent walls, he could sense the nip of winter’s early bite trying to come in.

  “Sleep here, Giordi,” Revna insisted, drawing a blanket about her body, “in love we not…but keep each warm.”

  He smiled at her bravery. Without a word he drew his boots off and his outer layers. Revna lay on the bed with her back to the centre and Giordi lay in the opposite direction. It was awkward and unfamiliar but at least they were warm and eventually sleep came to both.