Birth of Innocence: The Innocence Cycle, Book 4 Read online

  “Elena,” Celdorn started then stopped. He rubbed his hands together trying to find the right words. “Elbrion and I didn’t really have time to prepare you for your marriage, to speak to you about things fathers teach their children. Well, usually mothers teach these things to daughters, but we are lacking there.” He paused again. A line of sweat broke out on his forehead.

  “Ada,” Elena leaned forward and grabbed his restless hands, “Speak freely. I am listening.”

  Celdorn raised his eyes and smiled, gripping her hands firmly. He sighed. “Little one, members of the Council visited us a short time ago concerned that we could not proceed with the marriage feast.”

  Elena tensed and her eyes flashed to a deep brown and back to green. Another part of Elena, possibly the warrior, was near.

  Elbrion stepped in. “It is the custom of the Elrodanar that the feast not be celebrated until the marriage has been consummated.”

  Elena let loose of Celdorn’s hands and gaped at her adai; her face flushed to a deep crimson. “Did Silvandir say something?”

  “No, little one,” Celdorn replied. “The elders just knew.” When she stared back at him, wide-eyed with shock, he quickly went on to explain. “Apparently, you are so tied to the Jhadhela that they would know when and if you had … had relations.”

  Elena’s hand covered her mouth as if to suppress a scream.

  “They did not come to us, nor are we here, to embarrass or shame you,” Elbrion explained in a tender tone. “As your adai, we want to assist you, if we are able, in this difficult transition.”

  “Little one, we understand with your history that being intimate with Silvandir must be challenging, perhaps even terrifying. I did not know about this custom regarding the wedding feast, and I am troubled that we have forced an awkward situation upon you.” Celdorn wanted to kick something he was so irritated, so frustrated with himself. Why hadn’t he known this?

  As the all-too-familiar cloak of shame wrapped around Elena, Celdorn knelt in front of her and cradled her face. “I remember the discussion we had before you agreed to marry Silvandir. You were afraid that you could not be a wife to him in this way. Is there anything we can do to help you? Questions we can answer?”

  Tears slid down her cheeks, but she did not speak.

  “There is no shame in this kind of union. You understand that, do you not? Despite all your history, it can be an expression of your mutual love, filled with great joy and pleasure, as was intended.”

  Elena took a deep, shaky breath. “It was not me, Ada,” she whispered. “It was Silvandir.” She pulled her face away and buried it in her hands, sobbing.

  Surprised, and uncertain what to say, Celdorn leaned back on his haunches and waited.

  “I was … I am more than willing. I think I would have been fine, but just before we … joined, Silvandir turned away from me.” Elena looked up at her ada, her features twisted with pain. “I don’t know what I did,” she choked out.

  “Did he say anything? Try to explain?”

  She nodded. “He … he said that he did not want to rush me, but I think I was rushing him.” She stopped as emotion strangled her voice. “He also said that he was afraid of hurting the baby. We decided he should talk to Dalgo to make sure it was safe. But … but I am afraid that the real reason he pulled away was”—she pulled her knees into her chest and hugged them—“that the other men I have been with were lying between us.”

  Celdorn thought that a rather apt, though painfully graphic, depiction of her fear. He did not know how to respond. Silvandir would only be human to struggle with such thoughts.

  “Sheya,” Elbrion said softly, “perhaps you should take him at his word. Perhaps it is the truth.”

  “But I know there was something else. I felt it.”

  “Then ask him again,” Elbrion said. “I am no expert in marital relations between husband and wife. I have only dealt with Celdorn, which is troublesome enough.” He flashed a playful smile at Celdorn. “But I do know that it is best to be honest and transparent in close relationships, even when it is awkward to do so. You do not want to start the union with unspoken fears between you.”

  She nodded. “You’re right, Ada. I know you’re right. I have started to ask him many times, but the words stick in my throat. I’m so afraid of how he will answer.” More tears fell. “And … and I too worry about the baby. Maybe he is right. I hope that Dalgo will have an answer for that fear.”

  ~

  “You wanted to speak with me?” Silvandir said as he sat across from Dalgo at the table in Celdorn and Elbrion’s cottage.

  “I was asked to speak with you,” Dalgo clarified, “in hopes that I could offer some assistance.”

  Dalgo explained to him about the elders and their concerns regarding the wedding feast. Silvandir felt his face flush, and he focused on the table.

  “I’m sorry to be intrusive in such a private matter, Silvandir, and I mean no offense, but Yaelmargon thought perhaps I might be best suited to address some of your concerns. Celdorn and Elbrion are speaking with Elena.” He paused and waited until Silvandir looked up.

  “In truth, Dalgo, I welcome your advice. I wanted to ask you some questions. I just didn’t know how to approach it. I’m not accustomed to speaking of such personal issues.” He drew a deep breath and blew it out. “But I need help.”

  The healer smiled warmly. “I know that you and Elena entered into this marriage under adverse circumstances, and perhaps it would have been wiser to have had these discussions prior to your attempts at relations. Marriage and the first union are often difficult even under the best of circumstances. I know.”

  Dalgo cleared his throat. “I also should have informed you of something else. I regret my error now, but it is what it is.” Silvandir looked up, puzzled by his words. “In her healing, when her wounds were taken from her, Elena’s innocence was somehow restored to her.”

  Silvandir shook his head. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

  “She’s a maiden again,” he said more plainly.

  Silvandir felt the color drain from his face, and his shoulders sagged with the weight of this knowledge. “Does she know?”

  “Yes, Celdorn told her shortly after I discovered it. But I’m not certain she understood what that would mean to the physical process, and she’s apparently not felt free to ask me.” Dalgo rubbed the back of his neck. “I should have told you. I didn’t want to embarrass you and have you think I was trespassing on the sacred ground of your marriage, but it would have been better for you to have been prepared, to have understood.” He was quiet for a bit, which allowed Silvandir time to absorb the information.

  “I see this news has deepened your distress. Is there a way I can help? Do you have questions, fears, I can address?

  Silvandir took a deep, shaky breath. “It wasn’t her fault that we didn’t … join,” Silvandir’s face flushed again. “I ... couldn’t.”

  Dalgo didn’t do a very good job of masking his surprise, but he caught himself and nodded. “Well,”—he cleared his throat again—“our thoughts and fears can get in the way of our physical responses sometimes ...”

  “No, I mean I could. We started, but ...” Silvandir looked down and heaved a deep breath. “I saw pain on her face, Dalgo. Pain. It stopped me cold. It hurt her feelings; I know it did. She was confused, crushed, but I couldn’t explain it to her. I don’t think she even realized she was feeling pain. She was detached from it, like she often is. But I saw it clearly.

  “I remembered what Braiden said after Loqarad attacked her, about him being too big for her small body, that it tore her up inside. I don’t want to do that to her. And ... and then you tell me she’s a maiden again. Won’t that make it worse? Cause her more pain?”

  Dalgo sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, my friend. I should have spoken with you earlier. I could have saved you this distress. There are things you can do that will help her, ways to prepare her body,” he explained. “Loqarad did damag
e because of the force he used and the resistance in Elena. Women’s bodies are very adaptable, Silvandir. It might not be possible to avoid all pain the first few times, but it can be minimized with some preparation and careful attention to her needs.”

  “And the baby? Will I hurt the baby?”

  Dalgo smiled. “The baby will be fine. A woman’s body is designed to protect the child naturally. You don’t need to fear. If it weren’t so, there would be a lot less women giving birth, for few men could abstain for eight or nine months.”

  Silvandir wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I feel like such a fool. I should have known this.”

  “No one naturally knows these things. They need to be taught, and I should have stepped in earlier to assist. I knew that you didn’t have opportunity to speak with your father, and I could have helped fill that void. Forgive me.”

  At the mention of his father, Silvandir’s jaw tightened. He would never have discussed this with his father, even if he hadn’t misused Elena. The man who sat across from him behaved much more like a father to him. He gazed up at Dalgo, grateful for his kindness. “There’s nothing to forgive, Dalgo.” He stared at the table for a moment. “Will you please teach me how to help my wife?”

  Dalgo clasped his shoulder and smiled warmly. “I would be happy to do so.”

  ~

  When Silvandir returned to the cottage, Elena was alone and pacing nervously.

  “We need to talk,” he said as soon as he came through the door.

  Elena’s head bobbed.

  Silvandir pulled her into his arms. “Are you all right?”

  “Embarrassed, confused, frightened, but yes, I’m all right.”

  Silvandir stepped back and held Elena’s face in his hands. “I love you.”

  Her tears immediately began to spill, and Silvandir found it hard to breathe.

  “I need to tell you the truth, but let’s sit down first.” He led her to the couch and sat next to her. She was holding her breath. “I saw pain on your face,” he blurted out.

  Elena’s brow folded with confusion.

  “I’m sorry. I practiced all sorts of ways to say that, and I just did it so poorly.” He took her hands in his. “I-I stopped because I saw pain on your face when …” he paused, suddenly at a loss for words.

  Elena’s eyes moved slowly back and forth as she stared at the wall. “I-I don’t remember feeling pain.” Her focus came back to him, and she searched his face. “I felt only … longing, desire.” She cocked her head. “So you stopped because you thought you were hurting me?”

  “I was hurting you. You were detached from it, like you often are with pain, but it was clear to me. I should have said something. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I was concerned for the baby, but that was only a half-truth.” He cupped her face again. “Elena, I’m such a large man, and you’re so petite. I just didn’t want to damage you like Loqarad did. I never want to hurt you.” As much as he tried to be steady for her, his own tears tumbled. “But Dalgo assured me it won’t damage you, though there may be some pain … a little, at first, since you are a … since your innocence was restored.” He was doing a terrible job at communicating, fumbling along like a fool.

  “Oh, he told you that.” Elena blushed and looked away. “Did he tell you if that will … will that make it more difficult?”

  Silvandir shared the information Dalgo had given him. “He also taught me some things that might help.” He paused. “Elena, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I want you. I do. I was just … afraid.” He stopped.

  “Well ...” She breathed deeply and let it out slowly. “Then I suppose we will have to keep practicing until we get it right.” Her lips curled into a warm smile and that wonderful, mischievous twinkle flashed in her eyes.

  “Hmm …” he said, drawing her close. “It usually requires a great deal of practice before I learn a new skill, but I suppose we must do what we must do. Shall we start our first practice session?” When she nodded, he scooped her up and carried her toward the bedroom.

  Elena laughed. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  ~

  The ground shook violently beneath Celdorn’s feet. He glanced out the window as flashes of light burst out of the cottage across the way. Elbrion stood behind him, looking over his shoulder.

  “Apparently, the elders won’t be the only ones who’ll know that things have moved forward between Silvandir and Elena.” Celdorn laughed. “Perhaps we should have put them in a cottage that was a little more secluded.”

  Elbrion chuckled. “It would make little difference. We might have prevented the light show, but the earthquake would be difficult to hide.”

  Chapter 32

  Preparations for the marriage feast began the day before Elena and Silvandir’s ceremony, as soon as it was known that they were to wed. By the third day, the elaborate plans were well underway. This was the feast for the daughter of the Lord Protector, the lord who had been chosen by the current council of elders in Queyon. Likewise, she was the daughter of their only prince—one who would be ruling the council in his mother’s stead had he not chosen to lay down his life in service to the Lord Protector. Furthermore, Elena was one of the few remaining Rahima, something which none in Queyon had ever expected to see in their lifetime. For one such as this, the feast must be memorable.

  The celebration would take place in Khala Lengoan, the Field of Enchantment, where it was said that the briochellai, the daughters of the Briellai, thought to be angels, first appeared to the Roddan, who had been bereft of their maidens in the fall of Yabwana. Here, centuries ago, the briochellai danced night after night for the Roddan, driving them nearly mad with longing, until mercifully, after weeks of anticipation, they finally chose mates and quenched their desires. The light that was infused in their very nature entered their mates, and the time of Nasara, the renewal, began.

  All of the Guardians stationed at Marach were invited to the feast, as were the leaders of the villages near Queyon. Had time permitted, a summons would have been sent to all of the Guardians strongholds. There were the few from Kelach, Greenholt, and Dussendor, who had journeyed with Elena and the children, so nearly all the keeps were at least represented.

  ~

  Elena awoke unaware of the elaborate preparations underway or the extent of the celebration. Her mind was consumed with the joy of finding Silvandir by her side. She had slept peacefully snuggled next to him. Now she lay watching his chest rise and fall, his long, silver-streaked hair splayed out on the pillow. A sigh of contentment eased through her lips.

  Silvandir opened one eye and gave her a sleepy smile. “Someone is staring at me.”

  “I didn’t believe it was possible for me to be this happy,” she whispered. “I will start each day by drinking in this view.”

  Silvandir put his arm around her and tugged her close. “I can think of no better way to be awakened.”

  A knock on the cottage door interrupted their quiet reverie. Elena jumped up and put on her robe while Silvandir searched for his trousers.

  “You are welcome!” Elena called as she walked out of the bedroom.

  Celdorn and Elbrion stepped through the front entrance.

  “Sorry, if we awakened you, sleepyhead,” Celdorn teased.

  “I was quite awake, just not in a hurry to get out of bed.” Elena laughed then reddened as she realized how indelicate her answer sounded.

  “Well, with the apparent success of the evening,” Celdorn continued with a grin, eliciting a deeper blush from Elena, “the plans for the wedding feast are moving forward.”

  Silvandir joined them, looking a bit sheepish. Elena thought her ada did a good job of pretending not to notice.

  “We will escort you to the cottage your boys are living in, but before that, we have a few items to address.” Celdorn nodded to the bundle in his arms. “We’ve brought clothing for Elena for the celebration since we had to leave all of her dresses at Kelach.”

  A flutter of excitement moved i
n her belly. Though Elena had been resistant to wearing a dress while at the keep, she was excited to don one now for Silvandir. With him by her side, hungry eyes would think twice.

  “I was able to find one of nearly the same color as you wore for your adoption feast, which suited you so well.”

  He held out the dress, wrapped in a linen cloth. Elena pulled back the protective cover and gasped. “Oh, Celdorn, it is even more beautiful than the other gown. Where did you find it?”

  “A briochella had made it not knowing who was to wear it. She just knew someone was coming who would require it.”

  Elena shook her head. “I am amazed.”

  “We have some gifts for the two of you,” Elbrion said. He handed one box to Elena and two to Silvandir.

  Elena laid her dress on the table and opened hers first. Inside were a pair of bracelets that matched the emerald pendant and circlet her adai gave her for the celebration of her adoption. The bracelets were made from the same delicate metal, which looked like miniature ivy vines dipped in silver and then twisted and woven into a two-inch cuff. Each was sprinkled with tiny diamonds and boasted a single tear-shaped emerald like the one on her pendant. “Ooo, they are gorgeous.” She held one of the bands up to the window and watched the jewels sparkle. “Thank you, Ada,” she said, looking from one to the other. She slid a bracelet onto each wrist, surprised by how perfectly they fit.

  “Oh no.” Elena’s heart squeezed tight. “I just realized I left my pendant and coronet behind at Kelach.”

  Celdorn grinned. “No, you didn’t. Remember I told you that Braiden had packed your things? He knew you would want these.” Her ada held up the missing jewelry—which had changed.

  “What this?” She fingered the emerald stone, which now graced the center of the circlet.

  Elbrion moved closer. “We thought they made a better set with that addition. The emeralds remind us of your eyes, Sheyshon.”