Chapter Seven, Part III

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Halle: Victor Of The Forest

The noise from the crowd was deafening. Feral shouts and hoots erupted all around her, echoing through the night. The drum sounded again in the distance, but this time it calmed Halle's nerves rather than heightened them.

Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.

Clive bent down and retrieved a curved crown from the charred dirt in front of the fire. It was made of dark wood, woven into a circle with leaves and small flowers. Thorns jutted up from the edges, mimicking jewels. He raised it up and gently sat it atop her nest of ratty hair and broken twigs. The pointed ends snagged in the tangled locks as he removed his fingers. It would stay in place.

Clive pulled her to his side as a line of masked people began to form. The first person, a young man wearing the pelt of a mountain cat and a leather mask bowed lowly to her. The eyes beneath the mask watched her carefully in a mix of envy and lust that made Halle's skin crawl. She looked above his head to the long line, and her stomach churned. The serenity of her body warred with the anxiousness inside her mind.

Another bow, this time from a woman. She was unmasked but wore red paint under her eyes. It dribbled down her cheeks, melting from the heat of the flames. Halle did not know what role, if any, the women played in the wedding festivities. She hadn't seen any on her way into the forest, but recalled Dot mentioning some blessing ceremony they took part in before the wedding.

Clive squeezed her fingers, drawing her back into the scene. Halle could only nod to the woman before she turned sharply and went back into the crowd. The princess wanted to clasp her hands together before her, a comforting method, but Clive's grip was like iron. He would not let her go. Another man came forward and bowed his head. Then another and another. Soon the people stepping up before her were a blur of face paint, masks, and obligatory bows. Each one seemed more forced than the last. She didn't recognize anyone. Dot was not present nor were her brother and Hector. Where they were, Halle did not know, but she wished they were there. She longed to see a familiar face.

Then, the gods laughed at her scornfully.

Commander Walsh emerged from the smoke behind a man with a ruddy beard. They were both dressed similarly in black leathers, but where the outfit made the other man look frumpy, the darkness only accentuated the Commander's muscular frame. There was something almost enigmatic about him that drew her gaze directly to his face. She forced herself to look away, felt the heat flooding her cheeks. She was glad that the fire was so close. It would be easy to explain away the sweat spreading down her back as a creation of the flames rather than a product of the Commander's nearness. She didn't know why she should feel that way. Commander Walsh was a harsh man, his brutality only glimpsed when she had seen the new recruits of the Watch after the mysterious Gilded Rite. Yet, here she was unwaveringly drawn to him. Perhaps it was because he appeared so aloof, so disinterested. Was that why she found him so fascinating? Or maybe, it was just the smoke making her head fuzzy.

At any rate, he appeared before her, pinning her with those dark eyes. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off as the other man bobbed his head back up after bowing to block the Commander from view. Halle had completely missed his bow. She'd forgotten that the man with the auburn beard even existed. The princess felt ashamed and forced a smile at the fellow. Caught off guard, he blushed and moved aside. Commander Walsh stepped forward, and Halle's heart began to beat faster. She forced herself into a composed stance as he inclined his head to her. He bowed lowly and raised back up, his eyes focusing on her face. His fingers dusted some dirt from his shirt, and Halle noticed they were bruised and red as if he'd been punching something.

"Congratulations are in order," the man with the yellow mask said as he came around the blazing fire. He moved behind the Commander, blocking his exit. Rafe Walsh, Halle believed Rafe was his given name, went to step aside. He was trapped between the man with the yellow mask and the one with the red beard. Crossing his arms, he waited. Halle turned her head to hide her smirk. His uncomfortableness was rather comical.

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