“Uncle” greeted Faye excitedly. Her high ponytail wished behind her.

The warrior braids and the metal beads in them glistened in the moonlight. The Raven General’s royal blue cloak spanned out behind her, the ceremonial garb an unusual look on those who knew her preference for simple tunics.

The second she reached the older man, the two embraced heartily touching foreheads.

Stepping back, Faye grinned up at the Wolf.

The young woman clasped his arm tightly. She switched to her mother tongue. The familiarity of the Wenge language brought a semblance of comfort.

“Uncle,”The Raven General smirked at the Wolf, canines glinting.“Faye greets you. It is good to see you.”

It was a familiarity they both leaned into.

The usually stern general’s brows softened. The older man’s rough face lost some of its edge.

The Wolf almost smiled. “You as well.”

Ever since she had been a young girl, the mighty warrior had taken her under his wings, treating her like a child of his own.

The Raven General turned towards the other warriors, still kneeling patiently on the ground. “At ease.”

“Thank you, General,” they responded in unison. The soldiers rose to their feet and continued to unpack their gear.

Faye nodded in acknowledgment. Her chin jerked towards the castle. “You have had a long journey. Head inside and wash and feed yourselves.” She paused and smirked wolfishly. "Eat well tonight. Do not worry about over-indulgence. It is not our supplies you are wasting.”

Chuckles filled the air. More than a few of them had served in a campaign by her side a greeted her in excitement. The warriors grinned and thanked the Raven General. They settled their horses and headed in to do just that.

“Dismissing my men for me?” The Wolf raised an eyebrow. He commented blithely. “If you were anyone else, I would have killed you for the insolence.” He shrugged, “But alas, even I am weak to the will of the Raven General.”

It was Faye’s turn to raise a brow. “Is that a joke, uncle?” She barked out a laugh, switching back to the common tongue. “Is the Wolf making a joke? My, how the world has changed!”

The older general rolled his eyes.

“And now he rolls his eyes!” gasped the Raven General, genuine surprise coating her words.

The Wolf strode past the Raven General, shoving her out of the way. The young woman stumbled back playfully.

The older general walked towards the stable. “Follow me, girl.” His heavy steps made deep prints in the grass.

Chuckling, Faye followed.

Caution and curiosity made her return to her mother tongue. “What is it?”

The Wolf did not answer the question. He shot her a glance. “How is the fool of a prince you are to wed?”

"You speak of the Lord of Feldgrau?" The topic sobered the young woman. She shook her head. “What have you heard of from Father?”

Crossing his arms, the Wolf came to a sudden stop. He turned his brooding dark eyes towards Faye. “I did not agree with this treaty. We should not be allying with those we do not trust.”

Faye pursed her lips. She did not refute or agree with the statement. “It is the treaty you disagree with.” The Raven General’s amber eyes met the Wolf’s dark ones. “But not the marriage.”

The Wolf nodded, not one to beat around the bush.

He said bluntly. “Your marriage was always to be political, it is advantageous that it does not give power to another cocky fool in the counsel.” The man turned a curious eye toward the young woman. “You have dined with these men. What are your thoughts on these demons?”

The young woman crossed her arms. “Their future king is an idiot but none dare go against him,” her words took on a thoughtful hum. “And my husband expects me to stab a knife into his back the moment it is turned.”

“And do you intend to do so?” asked the Wolf. His dark eyes gleamed.

Faye let out a long breath, the air fogged around her in the coolness of the night. “What is it you came to ask me, Uncle?” Her fiery eyes turned to gaze at him. “You are not only here for my wedding.”

The Wolf shook his head. “Sharp as ever, little one.” The nickname was said fondly.

After a moment, he shifted to face her.

“Do you plan to renounce your claim as heir?” asked the older general. The words of their ancient language curled the words but the meaning was clear.

There was a pregnant pause between the two.

Faye knew what the man wanted to hear.

Still, she shook her head resolutely. “I am my father’s successor. No marriage will change that,” she turned to glare at the Wolf. “I am loyal to my people.”

“That I have no doubt,” admitted the Wolf. “But this marriage has only painted a larger target on your back. Your men will leave by the morning. By midday tomorrow, you will be fully surrounded by enemies.”

The weight of his words slowly sank in.

“As your father’s successor, you will have more out for your blood.” The Wolf scowled, “You cannot trust these people.”

The Raven General shifted. The blade at her hip glinted. “I am capable of defending myself.”

“Against blades and warriors, yes,” protested the older general. He shook his head. “But not against poisoned words of spoilt lords and ladies. They will speak you to death without ever lifting a weapon. That is the world you are entering, Faye.” His words were sharp.

“And what would you have me do,” snapped the Raven General. “We need this alliance. Wenge cannot afford to keep fighting on all fronts. You know this as well as I, general.”

The Wolf strode forward. “Renounce your claim to Fadye’s court. Offer yourself this layer of protection-“

“Stop,” came the steadfast command. The tone was sharp as a knife. This was not the little girl the Wolf watched grow up, but the battle-hardened warrior. The heir to Fadye… a title forged through steel and blood.

“You forget yourself, general,” said the Raven General darkly. “I am my father’s successor. I fought the clans when even you could not. I slaughtered our enemies while you and my father's men were in healing tents. I have earned my place, and no one will take that from me.”

A tense silence grew between the two.

The Wolf grimaced. He looked as if he wanted to protest but kept his mouth shut.

Faye turned on her heels. “If that is all you have come for…”

“Do you think so little of me,” came the gruff response.

The Wolf looked away.

He was not a man of emotion or softness. The general would sooner die than apologize. But he did have a heart. The Wolf turned away from the young woman.

“Follow me,” said the rough general.

Without saying another word, he headed down the row of stalls. As he passed, the other horses in the stables looked up. The royal stables were filled with some of the best breeds but the Wolf did not stop to pay them any heed.

Tilting her head curiously, the young woman followed.

The two arrived in front of a stall separated from the other. Inside, the red horse peaked its head up. Rearing back, the animal flared its nose and pinned its ears back. Its dark eyes were piercing but spirited. The horse’s muscles were well defined and from its inquisitive stare, the steed was clearly smarter than most.

Faye gasped. “It’s… beautiful.”

“Of course it is.”The Wolf puffed up proudly. “Its mother was my strongest mare and its father a wild stallion of the grasslands.” He gestured towards its glittering coat. “A creature fit for the legends.”

The Raven General shook their head, still in awe. They reached a gentle hand out to the animal. The red beast snapped its teeth warningly. But the young woman merely laughed.

“I like this one.” She smiled at the Wolf genuinely. “This is a fine steed you have found for yourself, Uncle.”

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But to her surprise, the Wolf shook his head. “This is not my steed.” He paused and crossed his arms. The older man’s smirked, dark eyes glinting mischievously. “It is yours.”

Faye’s eyes widened in shock. “Mine?” She gaped. “Truly?”

The Wolf nodded, but the young woman’s eyes were glued to the magnificent creature.

“I heard you lost Iliana in your last battle,” he started.

The white warhorse had been with the Raven General since she was a girl. The beautiful mare had also been a gift from the Wolf. Its bright presence had been synonymous with the general. Until the last battle.

The Raven General nodded somberly. “It is true. She was a loyal mare till the end. It was an arrow that took her from me.”

It had been the reason why Faye had been forced to bear the long ride in a stuffy carriage. She would have much preferred the wind and air of the outdoors, but the pain had been too fresh and no horse seemed good enough.

“This horse was brought to me a day before we departed, it must be fate.” The Wolf patted the young woman’s shoulders. “I brought this steed all the way from the grasslands for you. Consider it a wedding present.” He sighed and switched to the heavy and accented common tongue. “I know we may have moments where we are at odds, but do not doubt my loyalty, little one.”

The older general stepped back and sank to one knee. The proud man lowered his head. “Take this as a symbol of my faith in you.” He raised his head and smirked, “Our Raven General will need a trusty steed when she rides into her next victory.”

Faye matched his smirk. “And I will ride this steed into the counsel tent when I go to claim my father’s seat,” she promised cheekily.

The Wolf snorted and rolled his eyes.

But he took the offered hand and the two walked together towards the looming castle.

“So tell me of this husband-to-be,” demanded the Wolf.

Faye gasped. She shook her head as if bewildered by the mere memory of the man.

The older general paused. He had heard rumors of the cold-faced Lord of Feldgrau. He frowned. Was the man truly worthy of the Raven General?

“The man is a true beauty, Uncle.”

The Wolf froze. Was Faye… he glanced over and choked at the besotted look on the young woman’s face. In all his years, he had never seen the younger look like that.

“And those eyes! They are like the fresh river waters that…” Faye gestured animatedly, acting like a lovesick maiden. “However, I think he should smile more, although, Uncle, you should see when he’s trying to be serious, his eyebrows bunch together like a mischievous mountain cat…” She clenched her fists determinedly. “But I will make him smile one day.” The young woman cracked her knuckles, and the sound came out with a resounding CRACK! “Even if I have to force it out of him.”

The Wolf shuddered. He almost pitied the Lord of Feldgrau.

Almost.

—

Elegant lanterns painted with the royal family’s crest hung from the trees in the royal garden. The gentle wind made the lantern sway gracefully. Candles and torchlight glowed from the ceilings and walls of the palace.

The air was filled with hushed excitement and curiosity. The Wenge delegates stood on one side and the court and guests on the other. A soft breeze carried the fragrance of flowers throughout the square, and it mingled with the distant tune of the minstrel’s songs.

The king and queen stood atop the wedding platform. Rewanna smiled graciously, her hands smoothed the rich velvet silks of her dress. If one didn’t know better, they would have assumed that it was the queen who was to be married. Argan and the twins stood by their mother’s side.

King Argon’s glanced over at the empty spots.

Neither the bride nor the groom had arrived.

Gasps suddenly filled the air as a new group entered.

The king’s head snapped up. His frown deepened as he stared at the leader of the new group.

The giant man had a deep scar on his left cheek. He wore a wolf pelt across his shoulders. The Wenge delegates hurried to stand and bow to the man.

The man strode forward. He stopped in front of the royal family. The man’s numerous braids swung around. They were a mark of his numerous battles and victories.

The court shifted back.

This was the Wolf!

The mighty general crossed his arms. He opened his mouth and spoke in a foreign language. His voice was guttural and sharp.

King Argon’s eyes narrowed but he gritted out, “We welcome you, general.”

The Wolf merely grunted. The man turned his back on the king and joined the side of the Wenge delegation.

The queen burst from her seat, anger coloring her face, but the king shook his head. The marriage was the priority.

The Wolf took his seat.

Just in time as a low horn bellowed. The sound reverberated through the square.

Two pairs of shoes stepped into the clearing. Heads turned to stare. Muted gasps filled the air.

It was like a scene from a fairytale.

The Lord of Feldgrau, true to his moniker as the ice prince was dressed in silver white robes. His hair had been combed back and the blue eyes were fierce and bright. He looked like a celestial being gracing the mortal realm. Although his face was stern, he walked with all the grace of a powerful lord. A bright red ribbon had been tied to his hair and fluttered in the wind behind him. On his wrist, the two golden coins on a string clanged together, making a jingling noise with every step he took.

On his arm was the bride-to-be. More gasps filled the air as eyes drifted onto the form. The Raven General stood slightly shorter than the lord. Her unruly hair had been freed from its updo and tumbled down her shoulders, there was still a hint of its untameness but it shimmered under the light of the lanterns. Her face was covered with a red veil and the royal blue cloak had been replaced with the scarlet gown she had on. It was bright as fire.

The long train of the dress dragged in the grass behind the couple. Although only her ruby-red lips were visible, the uplifted quirk of them gave her a youthful aura. The warrior braids remained on her head, the jeweled beads embedded into the intricate braids swung and the bell-like noises they made matched in sync with the gold coins of her fiancé.

From his place in the podium, the crown prince stared at the young woman, gaping openly. Hopefully a bug would fly into the boys mouth.

The Raven General looked nothing less than a proper princess of Wenge.

The couple walked down towards the front arm in arm. Above them, the starlight glistened in its subjects below. It was the perfect night.

The bride leaned close to her husband, leaning in to his side. The lord stared blankly ahead. The ruby lips moved subtly, whispering words only audible to the two of them.

The guests wondered what the two could possibly be talking about.

---

“You look like a man about to step into his grave, not one that is about to be married,” whispered Faye lowly.

Although he stared ahead resolutely, out of the corners of his eyes, Nikolai could make out the playful smirk on the other’s face. “Since when did you learn to whisper?”

The young woman let out a burst of laughter. The guests nearby them jumped at the loud noise, but to her credit Faye was unperturbed.

The guests then turned their pleading eyes to the lord for some reason, but the lord was even less interested, eyes glued ahead. Did they really think he had any control over the Raven General?

Nikolai sighed subtly.

When Faye, it was an oddly fitting name for the general, had first walked out in the all red attire, he could have fooled himself that it was a regular wedding with a normal bride... that was until the young woman had barked out a raucous laugh and asked loudly if he realized there was a piece of cloth in his hair. Nikolai had had only stared incredulously at her. Did she not think the hundred of attendants, including his own, had just not noticed the ribbon and let it be?

They walked in silence.

Nikolai longed to scratch at his collar. Despite the cool breeze he felt hot and stuffy. Behind him were the expectant eyes of hundreds, while in front there was Rewanna’s smirking stare and Argan’s gaped mouth and awed stare at his bride. The crown prince looked ready to take Nikolai’s place by Faye’s side... not that that was a fate the lord would wish even on the worst of his enemies. Imagine having Rewanna as a true mother-in-law.

On the outside, Nikolai’s face remained the same, as cold and impassive as ever. The young man tensed. There were so many people and yet he felt like a lonesome sacrifice. It didn’t matter, just like it never did but the thoughts did nothing to stop the sucking feeling in his heart. He stared at the faces of strangers and enemies. The future and all the reparations and consequences flashed through his mind, like a barreling and relentless wave. This was all wrong. His breath quickened. Nikolai blinked hard.

Suddenly, the arm he was holding broke out of his hold. Nikolai glanced at the Raven General.

But it was the young woman’s turn to stare ahead.

She took a hold of his hand. It was against tradition and decorum but when had that ever stopped the general? She stared down ahead but her strong hands gave his a tight squeeze.

“Forget it,” her lips barely moved and Nikolai strained to hear her. “Don’t think of all that.”

The lord didn’t know if she was talking to him or herself. Unconsciously, his breath slowed.

“For this one night, I am not me and you are not you.” Her accented words were barely more than a breath.

“Tonight, we at two lovers about to be wed.” Faye paused and added gently. “And those we wish were here are by our sides.”

The couple took their time in stepping onto the podium. Behind them, the entire Wenge delegation and soldiers bowed their heads and sink to one knee in unison, with the Wolf at the lead.

But neither noticed. They did not notice when the priest began to speak, nor when he undid the ribbon in Nikolai’s hair.

The lord imagined those he wished by his side. He glanced behind Faye and saw his mother smiling proudly while his older brother made exaggerated actions but his soft eyes gave him away. His father stood proud and tall and the huge, sharp walls of the capital transformed into the familiar stones of the Feldgrau castle.

He lifted the veil off his bride’s face.

Amber eyes stared up at him, crinkling in teasing, but he could recognize the weariness and guarded look. He looked at her, really looked at her. And noticed the tense set of her shoulders and the purse of her lips.

The priests called out, “ The union between the Lord Nikolai of Feldgrau, Second Prince of Eburean, and the Raven General, tonight we join-”

“Faye,” snapped the lord.

The priest froze. He stiffened even more when he noticed the lord’s cold glare was directed at him.

“Her name is Faye, crown princess of Wenge,” said the lord lowly. “You offend the general by omitting her full title.”

Said general stared wide eyed at the lord.

“Of, of course!” Stammering, the priest hurried corrected himself. “The Lord of Feldgrau and the Raven General, Faye, Crown Princess of Wenge and Lady of Feldgrau!”

No one bothered to mention that he forgot the lord’s title this time. Applause and cheers sounded from the audience as the priest tied the singular ribbon between both of their interlocked hands.

Faye’s Raven soared through the air, landing on a ledge of the castle, cawing loudly.

The Wenge delegates roared happily, as calls in a foreign language and whistles filled the air.

The two leaned close, breaths mingling. Faye’s bright amber eyes beamed up at him, brows raising mischievously.

But before she could open her mouth, Nikolai snapped, “Don’t ruin the moment.”

And to guarantee her silence, he surged forward and captured her lips in his. Faye’s eyes widened even more, before they fluttered close and she pressed herself forward. There was a short pause of silence before the cheers and applause returned in full force. If the whistles were even clearer and louder than the first time... well, that was no one’s business.

With the ghosts of his mother’s smile and brother’s voice, and the feel of slightly chapped but soft lips against his… under the starlight, for a moment, Nikolai thought, as the fireworks went off, exploding in the air...

Everything was perfect.