LUCIAN
There were a lot of trolls surrounding him, scattering in every direction. Their chests were bare, tusks fully exposed as they lunged about. Lucian and his brother moved through them, the cries of "The New Troll wife" echoing in their guttural tongue.
To humans, it was known as the black tongue. They feared the deep, chanting voices of the trolls, believing the words carried dark magic spells that could steal souls or end lives. But then, humans feared everything about his kind. They trembled at their very existence.
The castle air hung thick with smoke, curling from wall sconces and clinging to the lungs. Black streaks smudged the stone, and beneath the perfumes and herb bundles humans wore to mask their stench, the reek of sweat was unmistakable.
Lucian flashed his tusks at the women who recoiled. One, draped in a pink dress that billowed like an overgrown flower, collapsed into the man behind her. He caught her, only to freeze when Lucian's gaze locked onto his. The man released her, letting her crash to the floor with a dull thud.
The chanting of his people nearly drowned out the sound. Humans couldn't even protect their own. How was he expected to endure one as a wife?
Tiberius smirked as they approached the podium where King Caspian stood. Lucian had never met the human king, but he recognized him as the silver-haired, eyes sharp with disdain, a crown of stolen gold and gemstones set by troll hands resting atop his head.
Beside him stood a smaller figure. She wore the white gown he'd been told to expect, but her face was veiled.
Strange. He'd imagined his bride would be tall and slender, with the delicate frame of a half-elf. Instead, she was broad-shouldered, her strong arms bare beneath her dress. The defined muscles of her biceps were unusual for a princess. What had shaped her so?
The veil trembled with her quickened breath. Fear. The terror of being devoured. It amused him. She should be afraid of him. He dwarfed her, his strength enough to snap her neck without effort.
But he wouldn't. King Oberion would rage if he harmed the princess meant to end the war. For now, she was a shackle he had to bear.
King Caspian forced a smile, his arm hovering behind his daughter. "An honor to meet the troll worthy of her hand."
Lucian tilted his head, letting the torchlight catch his tusks. "Is it?"
The veil fluttered again. Had he spoken wrong? He wasn't skilled at this. She knew nothing of his people of course she'd find him harsh.
Tiberius nudged him. Another sign he was being too rough. He gritted his teeth. "Princess, it is rare for one like me to stand before one like you."
The veil went still. Silence fell. Even the trolls' chants quieted.
King Caspian raised his hands. "Today marks a new era! With this union, our kingdoms stand united. No more war!"
A pretty lie. The trolls didn't believe it. This was merely a test of human honesty.
A priest in black robes stepped forward, stammering through vows. Lucian ignored him, studying the princess instead. She kept her eyes down which was odd, when there was so much to see. Him, for one.
Tiberius leaned in. "Think she's hideous? Is that why they hid her?"
Lucian scowled. "She's half-elf."
Elves were beautiful. Surely she wouldn't be repulsive.
But the veil hid her. Was her nose delicate or blunt?
The priest's voice snapped him back to attention. The room waited.
"He asked you to kiss your bride," Tiberius muttered in the black tongue.
Kiss her?
His stomach twisted. He didn't want to. And from her stiff posture, neither did she.
The king hesitated. "Perhaps it's unnecessary."
"Tradition demands it," the priest insisted.
Then, softly, the princess spoke. "It's fine. I'll do it."
As if it were a trial to endure.
He lifted the veil, revealing a neck both graceful and strong. Then spots. Dark flecks dusted her jaw and lips. Her nose was slightly crooked, her eyes wide-set, her hair a riot of red curls fighting against their pins.
She was… tolerable. For a human.
She swallowed. "Did you not want to?"
"He does," Tiberius growled, shoving him forward.
But he didn't. And she didn't either.
Her small hand pressed against his chest. "It's just for show."
Decision made. He hauled her against him, shielding her face from the crowd. His fingers spanned her jaw as he leaned close, his breath the only thing touching her lips.
"I am not your husband," he whispered. "And I never will be."
Her gasp sent a ripple of disgust through him. Then he turned her toward the crowd as if they'd kissed.
The trolls roared approval. The humans wore confusion. The princess looked dazed.
Tiberius nudged him. "Take her and go."
Lucian hoisted her over his shoulder. The king didn't protest.
No farewell. No final embrace. What kind of father was he?
But pity was useless. She was his burden now.
As they left the castle, the stench of human sweat and fear clung to her. She needed a bath.
"Too easy," Tiberius muttered. "She's their princess. They should've fought."
Lucian eyed the forest. "Then we run."
He adjusted her on his shoulder. "Do not throw up on me."
She pushed up. "Why would I"
Then he ran.
Her grip tightened as she bounced against him. Twice, she nearly slipped before he anchored her with a hand on her backside. Soft. Too soft for his liking.
He scowled. He wasn't tempted. He pitied her.
Because soon, he'd have to bed her.