Luther's Pride Part 13

“Congratulations.” Petros seized his glass and raised it. The other dinner guests followed his example, with Lucas being the last after rolling his eyes. “As Hel’s father, I believe it is not inappropriate for me to offer a toast. To your union, love, and health. May you prove mighty and rule well. To your might!” 

“To your might!” The others chanted, drained their drinks, and slammed the glasses onto the floor. 

The tradition was old, and Luther had always considered it odd, but he understood the meaning. Breaking the glass was part of the ancient ritual, binding the sentiments and preventing the words from being taken back, undone, or cheapened. The containers could never be used to offer another toast, and so this gesture went untarnished through the ages. The serving staff quickly swept up the shards and disposed of them properly before replacing the drinks. 

“Thank you.” Luther said. 

Petros smiled to match Helena’s, and the guests retook their seats. 

“Perhaps we should save everyone some time.” Lucas said. “Which of you are willing to marry this hopeless Lordling and be slaughtered by Branan as soon as he lays his challenge?” 

The party went silent as everyone’s eyes turned to Lucas and bore into him. The rudeness, the sentiment, and the gall were enough for any man to lay a challenge at his feet. Luther wondered if that was what Lucas had in mind. Perhaps the brash young man was more clever than he appeared. He could not challenge Luther directly because Luther was protected by his father’s recent death. The law gave him two days more before he could be formally challenged. The law did not, however, forbid him from laying a challenge. Did Lucas believe he could kill an unmarried Luther and fend off Branan? 

No. The whole picture came together for Luther in that moment. He saw the guile in Lucas’ eyes, the feigned drunkenness. Lucas wanted to bait Luther into challenging him, believing he could defeat Luther and inherit Luther’s property. Then, when Branan came to call, Lucas might have the leverage to join Branan's union rather than fight them. A clever idea, if a risky one. 

“I will.” Jo said, shattering the silence of the dining room. Some of the guests seemed surprised by this, while others merely nodded. 

“We will.” Eira and Rhosyn said together. “But not until tomorrow.” 

Their mother did not appear surprised, nor did their father or their parents' partners. Some of the others did, half because of their strange way of speaking together. 

The Grey family exchanged glances and turned their eyes to Holly in expectation of an answer. She glanced at Luther, then Lucas. 

“I can say that I will never marry you, Lucas.” Holly said. “You have proven yourself to be the worst kind of person I’ve met. I’m almost tempted to challenge you if only to silence you.” 

“Same.” Helena said, drawing attention her way. Her eyes locked onto Lucas, and her face was full of hate. 

Lucas met her hatred with boredom. 

“Forgive my brother.” Emily said, intervening to save her brother’s life. “I fear he is too deep in his cups, and that toast, which he also drank, was too much alcohol for him.” 

“We should toast the alcohol then.” Holly said. “For revealing your brother’s true manners that he might have otherwise been clever enough to disguise.” 

Emily looked properly rebuked but offered no rebuttal except a glare in her brother’s direction. 

Luther retook command of the scene. “Let us ignore him then. Miss Burville, I trust my servants to see him to his carriage and can provide one for you later if you wish to remain.” 

Emily nodded her gratitude. “Thank you. I shall take you up on that.” 

Luther nodded and gestured to a servant who left to fetch the carriage. 

“So we are to have four weddings, at least.” Petros smiled, his face beaming. “Congratulations! The five of you shall make a mighty union indeed!” 

Luther smiled and nodded his thanks. In his evaluation of the room, he saw that most appeared in good spirits. Potentially, that might be a side effect of the wine, but the Cerul family seemed relieved that Luther and Helena would not be facing Branan alone. Luther had to confess he was as well. 

“Please, enjoy the dessert course.” Luther said to the remainder of his guests as Emily and Lucas began to withdraw. “I shall see Lucas safely to his carriage and then make the arrangements with my staff for the ceremony. In the meantime, eat, drink, and be merry!” 

The guests laughed and returned to their dinner. Lucas and Emily walked with Emily guiding Lucas by his arm. Luther walked behind them, catching up as they waited at the door for their carriage to approach the courtyard below. 

“Mister Burville.” Luther said, addressing Lucas. “I do hope tonight was the exception to your usual manners, and I wish you a safe journey home.” 

Lucas glared at him and scoffed. “Come, Emily, the carriage is here.” He said, seeing the horses turn into view up the path. 

“You are welcome to stay, Miss Burville, though I will not coerce you.” Luther said. 

“You’re not marrying my sister, Luther.” Lucas snapped. “I won’t see her dragged into your suicidal foolishness. She’d be better off marrying Branan with me.” 

Luther glanced at Lucas but turned his gaze toward Emily. “That is, perhaps, a wise course of action. I suggest you wait until the inevitable challenge resolves before offering Branan your union if he and his partners are still alive.” 

Emily glanced at Lucas and then met Luther’s gaze. “Forgive my brother. He’s so deep in his cups that he’s forgotten that I make my own decisions, which is fortunate since he’s an often drunk fool.” 

Lucas started to say something, but the flex in Emily’s forearm, as she gripped his elbow and dug her fingers into the soft flesh of his joint, stopped him from saying anything other than a gasp at the sudden pain. 

“I will stay, for the union ritual at least.” Emily said to Luther. “If your invitation is still available to me.” 

“Of course.” Luther bowed slightly and gestured toward the carriage. “I’ll trust you to see your brother off. I have to arrange things with my staff for the ceremony.” 

Emily curtseyed and shoved Lucas through the threshold before helping him down the stairs. 

Luther turned, prepared to find Wulfric, who appeared behind him as if summoned by thought. “Ah, Wulfric!” Luther said in surprise. 

“Yes, Sir. I know who I am.” Wulfric said. “I’ve also been made aware by the staff that we have a union ceremony to conjure tonight. Priestess Jowangshin is prepared, obviously, and we’re freshening up the sparring circle now at Lady Helena’s request for location. I’ve come to collect you for the requisite preparations. We’ve also summoned your solicitor to make sure the proper legal documents are ready.” 

Wulfric spoke as he gently ushered Luther from the doorway, down the hall, and up the grand staircase to the floor above. Turning, he led the way to Luther’s chamber. 

“I have also taken the liberty of summoning a second priestess to perform the ceremony for you and Jowangshin if you wish to be wed to her tonight as well.” Wulfric said. “Though custom dictates you wait to propose to her until your union with Helena is finalized.” 

“Yes, I’m aware of the customs.” Luther said.

“Glad to hear your time away has not dulled your sense of decorum.” Wulfric said in an almost bored tone. “Will, he’s all yours. See him washed, scrubbed, and ready.” 

Will nodded and led the way to the bath. The ritual scrub was done to wash away the grime and dirt, and normally, it would have barely been necessary, but with the sparring match, there was some sweat to scrape away. 

Luther was halfway through his scrub when Criella entered the room. Will froze, but when neither Luther nor Criella showed any shame at Luther’s nakedness, he relaxed. 

“Congratulations on your wedding.” Criella said after a tense silence hung between their gaze. “Wulfric tells me you read the histories I pointed you toward.” 

Luther sighed. “I don’t know if it’s possible or true, but if it is, it would be one more reason for you to marry me.” 

The end of Criella’s tail twitched in agitation. “We’ve been over this, Luther.” 

“Tell me you don’t love me.” Luther said. 

“What?” Criella raised an eyebrow. 

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way about me, and I will stop asking you to marry me.” Luther said. 

Will looked between them, trying his hardest to blend into the background. 

“I’m here to ensure you’re of sound mind and body to enter this union as your legal advocate, not to rehash old fantasies from when we were children.” Criella said crisply. 

“Will?” Luther asked. 

“Yes, my Lord?” Will asked. 

“Did you hear a denial of love in anything Criella just said?” Luther asked. 

Will looked between them, his gaze stopping at Criella’s black and red eyes glaring at him with a frown on her tight face. “No, my Lord, not as such-” 

“Stop being such a child.” Criella said, addressing Luther. “You’re marrying Helena, and Wulfric tells me Jowangshin, Eira, and Rhosyn have also agreed to marry you. That is better news than I expected, honestly. You must have been quite charming.” 

“And not a bigot in the bunch.” Luther said. “None of them would object to marrying you.” 

“It would be frowned upon.” Criella said. “I’m not of the same class.” 

“Neither is Jo.” Luther rebutted. 

“She is.” Criella corrected. “She might have pursued a career in the temple, but her family lineage is noble.” 

“In this empire, nobility is determined by might, not birth. You know that.” Luther said.

“And yet it is the noble who remain mighty, which is not the point.” She shook her head. “Are you sober?” She opened the hard-cover folio in her arms and readied a pen. 

“Sober enough.” Luther answered. 

Criella made a check mark. “Are you entering this union of your own free will without coercion?” 

“Yes.” Luther said. 

Criella made a second check mark. “You understand that joining yourself to your intended cannot be undone? That you will be forever bound to this person until death?” 

“I understand.” Luther answered. 

Criella made two more checkmarks. 

“Anything else?” Luther asked. 

“Do you love her?” Criella asked. 

“Do I love Helena?” Luther asked. 

Criella was silent. 

“There is an attraction there.” Luther admitted. “She is beautiful, and having only known her a few hours, I don’t know if I can answer fully, but… I could see the opportunity for romance and love to bloom between us once we are married.” 

Criella closed the folio. 

“That wasn’t one of the questions, was it?” Luther asked. 

Criella didn’t answer. “If your arcanum is what I think it is, then Helena’s arcanum will aid you greatly should any challengers come to call.” She glanced at Will as she spoke.

“So would yours.” Luther countered. “Will you marry me?” 

“No.” Criella said, reflexively. 

“Are we still agreed to pursue the Dark Lord’s tomb after this whole marriage business?” Luther asked. 

“Yes.” Criella said. “Assuming you survive long enough to do that. I gave you my word.” 

“If I kill Branan and his partners, will you marry me?” Luther asked. 

“You know that the threat of Branan has nothing to do with it.” Criella snapped, her tail sweeping behind her so fiercely that Will stepped back in fright. She took a deep breath, calming herself. 

“I’d understand if you didn’t want to risk your life for mine. I wouldn’t want you to risk your life for mine.” Luther said. 

Criella glared at Luther. 

“I will keep asking you, Criella.” Luther said. “And once I am bound to Helena and the others, I will keep asking you to join us.” 

“Stop it.” Criella said. “Or I will no longer be able to be your solicitor. Someone else from my office will handle your affairs.” 

“Is that what’s stopping you? You don’t want to lose your job?” Luther asked. “Marry me, and you won’t need to work at all.” 

“I like my work.” Criella said, turning her back to Luther as she prepared to leave. “I’ll be in attendance at the ceremony tonight. Don’t make a fool of yourself.” She disappeared without opening the door, using her arcanum to transport herself away. 

Luther sighed and finished the scrub before stepping out to the towel Will offered him. The white robe Will gave him was loose and flowing, draping off his shoulders and showing his chiseled body beneath the open cavity. The scars on his body were old lines telling stories of battles from the past. His rings and jewelry were placed aside, and he wore nothing beneath the robe, as was custom. 

Will combed and styled his hair as Luther sat on a stool before the mirror, looking at his reflection in the eyes. “Do you love anyone, Will?” Luther asked. 

“Not in the way I think you mean, my lord.” Will said. “I just came of age and have yet to ask anyone to form a union.” 

“Hm…” Luther said. “When you do, try to make sure you do it for love.” He said. “I imagine that makes it easier.” 

“Yes, my lord.” Will said. 

When he was finished, Luther was primped and preened. He stood as Will circled him, adjusting the robe and pulling it into place. 

“If you don’t mind me saying, sir, I’m glad you’re getting married and that there’s a chance you can beat Branan. I’d rather work for you than him, personally.” Will said. 

“Oh?” Luther asked. “Would it matter that much?” 

Will nodded. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but the entire staff enjoys working for you. You’re kind. You treat us with respect and talk to us like equals. Branan has a reputation for condescension.” 

“Well, if it means that much to Will, I’ll try to stay alive.” Luther said, the humor in his voice making Will smile. 

“I appreciate that, sir.” Will said. “I’m sure we all do.”