Three days before the wedding, after they'd dined together, Wildas presented his future spouses with their betrothal gifts. They each received a ring that symbolized their inclusion in the royal family. Coulta noticed the differences in each ring when Wildas presented them. His had a black stone set in it, with a rearing horse depicted on the right and a pair of crossed, flaming swords on the other side of the stone. Myri's had the horse beside a green stone, with the healer's wreath – the symbol of the god of healing, Rutsav, he'd learned – on the other side. Anil's stone was red, and was framed by two horses; one was the rearing horse while the other was galloping.
"They're unique to each of you, so they can be used as seals if you wish," Wildas explained. "The rearing horse is the symbol of the royal family. The other symbol represents your current status, but it will remain your seal even if that changes."
He held his right hand out to show them the ring he wore. Coulta had studied it on multiple occasions recently, laying with the prince at night. It was a much older ring than the ones the rest of them now wore, and even had a tiny chip out of the dark blue stone. The rearing horse had once been detailed but those fine lines had been smoothed out. The same was true for the crown on the other side, the points of which faced toward Wildas.
"Mine will eventually change," the prince explained. "I'll have the one my father wears, and this one will go to my heir when he's of age."
"How long has it been passed down?" Anil asked.
"It's the ring Ardan kept for Caolan until he was of age, the one King Caol wore. Back then, a new ring was made for each heir, to be part of a presentation ceremony after the child was born, but there hadn't been time to retrieve Caolan's before he was moved from Ryal. Caolan changed that tradition, too, and had a new one made for himself to represent the title of Grand King so this could go to his heir. Eventually it will likely need to be replaced, before it's worn completely smooth."
Wildas glanced at Coulta, who was sitting to his left. Coulta took that to be his cue and moved from his chair to the chest where Wildas had put the gifts after the jeweler had delivered them. He presented both women with the necklaces he'd had made for them.
"They aren't as thoughtful as what Wildas gave you, I realize now," he told them.
Myri smiled as she put hers on, brushing a hand over the smooth black gem. "Thank you."
"It doesn't bother you, coming from me?" he asked her. The fact that she could feel his curse was something he had known since they'd left Windwick, and he suspected it wasn't a pleasant experience for her.
She shrugged. "Now that I know you better, it's something familiar, not ugly. I'm not sure how to explain it any other way. And no, there's more essence from the jeweler's magic than from yours."
He nodded, relieved. "I'm glad."
"I love it," Anil commented as she put her necklace on. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"I have something else for you," Wildas said once the women had both left for the night.
"I want to give you something, first," Coulta replied. He pulled another necklace from the inner pocket on his sword belt. "I wasn't sure if I was supposed to give it to you with Anil and Myri here or not, so I waited. Shelton suggested this because I can use it to find you if I ever need to."
Wildas took the necklace and found it identical to the ones Anil and Myri had gotten, only with a shorter chain. "I thought the curse allowed you to find me?" he asked, glancing at Coulta.
"It only tells me if you're alive and well," Coulta answered. "Or warns me if you're in danger. I'm sorry if you don't like it," he added, looking away.
"I love it," Wildas assured him, smiling. He put the necklace on and leaned over to give Coulta a light kiss. "Thank you."
Coulta smiled. "You're welcome."
Wildas stood and gently pulled Coulta to his feet. "I don't want you to consider this other gift as a betrothal gift. It's something useful for you as a court sorcerer as well. It also made my cousin quite happy."
He walked over to the chest beside his rack of swords and pulled out a long bundle wrapped in plain white cloth, the weight of which was deceptively light. Taking it to the bed, he carefully set it down and unwrapped it. He heard Coulta draw a sharp breath as he saw the collection of blades in their fine black leather sheaths. When Wildas had asked his cousin to make the blades, he hadn't expected more than a sword and a single dagger, but Belteal had been so excited to finally use the rare materials he'd been collecting that he'd made the sword and six knives of various sizes. The smallest blade was barely the length of Wildas's palm, and he assumed it was made of the last bit of material that was available. Belteal never wasted anything. Each hilt was made of polished black onyx shot through with bands of white, the grip wrapped in thin black leather that allowed the hand to still touch the onyx stone. The blades, Wildas knew, were made of a material that, while it looked like polished steel filled with dark red impurities, was actually something far stronger, lighter, and more useful for someone like Coulta.
Coulta hesitantly picked up the sword, and a look of what Wildas almost thought was disappointment crossed his face as he weighed the sword in his hand before removing it from the sheath. "Are these ceremonial?" he finally asked, looking the sword over.
Wildas smiled. "No, they're real weapons. The blade is made of Altmyr, a metal that comes from the depths of the Alta Mountains. The ore can only be accessed from a single mine on the Berk side of the mountains, and it's fairly rare because it's so difficult to extract. It's also far stronger and lighter than steel, and channels magic incredibly well. According to legend, a group of sorcerers created it when they used their combined power to stop a volcano from destroying precious farmland. Shelton can tell you more about it. He knows the story because they were led by a violet sorcerer. Anyway, my cousin, Belteal, bought some several years ago and has been eager to find a use for it since. The onyx came from the same mine and is actually banded with traces of Altmyr, which helps channel the magic into the blade."
He watched as Coulta's disappointment was replaced by curiosity and he stepped back to swing the sword in all directions and with each hand.
"Do you want to test it against another sword?" Wildas offered.
Coulta smiled at him, which was enough of an answer for Wildas. He stepped over to his sword rack and chose one of his plain steel swords. He and Coulta had only sparred a few times in the arena, and each time Wildas had barely been much of an opponent. He was a fairly good swordsman, having been trained all his life by Queen Yvona, but no one would ever be a perfect match against Coulta. Even Yvona herself lost to him.
Wildas prepared to spar anyway, just to give Coulta a feel for his new sword. It would probably take a few practice spars in the arena for him to truly become accustomed to the new material.
He was able to block Coulta's first attack, and the sound that filled the room was not very different from that of two steel swords coming together, though maybe slightly deeper. Coulta pulled back and Wildas attacked, only to be easily blocked.
A noise from the doorway made them both turn. Apparently the two Guardsmen outside had thought there was a problem, because they both burst in the door, hands on their swords.
Wildas lowered his sword and raised his other hand. "We're all right. Sir Coulta is testing his new sword. If I needed help I would yell for you. Thank you for your dedication."
Both Guardsmen nodded, bowed, and left with a brief apology.
Coulta looked his sword over again before sheathing it once more. "I like it. Thank you."
Wildas smiled and put his sword back on the rack, then joined Coulta again while he examined each of the knives.
"I didn't get you this much," Coulta finally commented, meeting Wildas's gaze.
Wildas put an arm around him. "That doesn't matter. As I said, these are more than a betrothal gift. My cousin appreciated the chance to make all these, and they're far more useful than symbolic.
Coulta put down the smallest blade and turned to kiss Wildas softly. "Thank you."
Wildas smiled. "You're welcome."
The day before the wedding, after returning to his own room to prepare for the daily meeting in the Grand King's office, Coulta was surprised by the arrival of a servant with a tray. He'd become accustomed to taking breakfast during the meetings and wasn't sure why that had changed.
But it was just tea that the servant left on the desk with a bow. Coulta finished shaving, then picked up the cup. It certainly smelled better than what Myri had been forcing into him until recently. Finally, he realized it was the tea he would be expected to drink daily just to ensure he wouldn't father any children and complicate all their lives. With a small smile, he took a sip.
The tea tasted sweet and almost flowery, which was a major improvement from what he'd been used to drinking since being injured. He could certainly get used to taking it daily.
But he'd only taken three sips before he began feeling ill. Thinking the tea might help whatever sickness was beginning, he took another sip.
He somehow managed not to spill the tea as he put it down and dove for the chamber pot. The only thought he had before his mind became clouded was that it was a good thing he'd slept in Wildas's room so the pot was empty.
