Seyn managed not to flinch at the touch—his control had improved that much—and smiled crookedly at his sister. “Flatterer. No one is outshining you today. Ready?”
Gynesh pulled a face. “A little nervous, but yes.”
“What is there to be nervous about?” Seyn said, putting her hand on his arm and leading her out of the room, heading toward the High Hall where the ceremony would take place. “I thought you got along with your bondmate.”
“Yes, but he’s the King of the Eighth Grand Clan. I’ll have much bigger responsibilities as the Queen-Consort than I’ve ever had as a mere princess.”
“You’ve been trained for the role since birth. You’ll be a wonderful queen-consort.” Seyn chuckled. “And I’ll have to bow to you.”
Gynesh wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. I don’t want my baby brother to bow to me. “ She nudged him playfully. “But it won’t be as weird as when I’ll have to bow to you when you become the Second Grand Clan’s King-Consort.”
Seyn’s smile became strained. He looked straight ahead, avoiding his sister’s eyes.
Gynesh sighed. “Are you still fighting with Ksar?”
Seyn pasted on a wide smile. “Let’s not talk about me today. This is your day.” Regardless of what he thought about bonding, he tried not to force his opinion on other people. He knew most other people were perfectly happy with their bonds and the bonding ceremony was one of the most important days in their lives. His sister liked her bondmate and was excited to marry him. He could be happy for her, even if her marriage meant that she would leave their home. Seyn almost wished she’d married down her social status; then her husband or wife would have moved in rather than vice versa. But she was marrying a king, even if he was a king of a smaller clan than theirs.
Gynesh let out a chuckle. “My day? You’ve been a recluse for almost a month. Gossip is running rampant. You’re fooling yourself, brother, if you think all eyes won’t be on you.”
Seyn made a face. “Jamil should have given you away, then.”
“You know that would not be proper,” Gynesh said, her smile fading.
Seyn sighed. “Sometimes I really hate all our stupid, stifling rules and customs.” He wasn’t even sure where the custom of widowers not being allowed to give their siblings away had come from. Perhaps it had been considered bad luck. Perhaps it had something to do with the black mourning bracelet Jamil wore as a widower. Either way, it was stupid. If Jamil’s bondmate hadn’t died, it would have been Jamil giving Gynesh away, not Seyn. It was also really stupid that their mothers couldn’t give Gynesh away, either: tradition dictated that it had to be a male relative, which was blatant discrimination that had no right to exist in the modern world. But no one cared, because it was tradition.
Fuck tradition, seriously. Seyn tried not to think about how it would make Jamil feel to see his younger brother taking his rightful place by Gynesh’s side during the ceremony; he felt nervous enough already without adding guilt into the mix.
It would be the first time in a month that his self-control would be tested seriously.
It would also be the first time he’d see Ksar since—
Seyn pushed the thought away.
It was irrelevant.
“You’re shaking, brother,” Gynesh said as they reached the double doors leading to the High Hall of the palace. Seyn could feel the crowd behind the doors without even focusing.
Reinforcing his mental shields, Seyn shrugged. “I don’t give my sister away every day. A man is allowed to be a little nervous on such an occasion.”
Gynesh didn’t look entirely convinced, but, thankfully, she didn’t say anything.
“Ready?” he said.
Gynesh licked her lips, running a hand over her blue and white dress that matched his attire. “I don’t know.”
“You do,” Seyn said, taking her hand and kissing her gloved knuckles. “You’re ready.”
She smiled at him, straightening her shoulders. “I am.”
Seyn nodded to the footmen.
They bowed and opened the heavy double doors.
* * *
The ceremony passed in a blur.
Seyn barely registered it, smiling and nodding at hopefully appropriate times, keeping his eyes fixed on Gynesh and King Farhat as they knelt before the High Adept and tied the white ribbon that symbolized their marriage bond to each other’s wrists. He could barely hear the traditional words the High Adept said as he performed the ceremony, his hands on Gynesh and Farhat’s heads. Seyn tried to concentrate on the High Adept’s face, and tried not to look around, focusing all his mental attention on keeping his shields up.
It still wasn’t easy. It was impossible to ignore people’s emotions and thoughts in a crowd that big. It didn’t help that his sense of smell was overwhelmed by the different fragrances in the room, and his attention kept drifting to conversations that were happening at the other end of the High Hall. It felt like the crowd’s thoughts and emotions were pressing down on him from all sides, making him shake with the effort to keep himself from being overwhelmed. Dammit, dammit, dammit—