A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [193]
Peter and Estarra received an outline for the ceremony and rehearsed their responses, while OX and five protocol ministers practiced with them. Basil insisted that it was vital for the performance to take place without any mistakes. Occasionally, when they fumbled their lines, Peter and Estarra would glance at each other and fight back a fit of quiet laughter, just to ease the tension.
But the King did not let down his guard. Remembering how he had been secretly drugged into submission for his coronation, Peter didn’t eat on his wedding day.
Though he had never met Old King Frederick, by now he believed his predecessor must have been a fool, completely uninterested in politics. Peter—Raymond Aguerra—was too smart for that. With his clever and likable new Queen, he knew he could rule the Hansa well, with or without the Chairman’s constant commands. The policies Basil advocated were for the sake of good business, but were not necessarily in the people’s best interests, and only Peter was in a position to know when they were being lied to.
As the ceremony began and the newly composed wedding symphony played across the Palace District, Peter and Estarra marched down separate carpeted aisles—his golden, hers green—toward an intersection where the paths joined and the Archfather waited for them on a raised dais.
Estarra’s completed dress was even more breathtaking than the Palace tailors had promised it would be. Peter’s formal uniform sported golden braids, buttons, and medallions; he wore a trim, short-waisted jacket with jeweled links at his sleeves. Together they painted an exceptional, idealistic picture for the Hansa audiences.
The air smelled of flowers and hummed with the anticipation and excitement of the gathered crowd. The King and his bride walked forward until their lives came together in front of the Archfather.
The Archfather lifted his robed sleeves in greeting and invocation, and the cheers were so deafening that Peter could no longer hear the symphony’s brassy grandeur. He saw royal guards and sentries stationed everywhere, ostensibly to protect him. Did someone expect a hydrogue to be hiding among the crowds? Were they worried about human assassins? Or were they really there to ensure his cooperation?
On the dais the Archfather intoned a brief, moving speech and then asked Peter and Estarra to recite their respective vows. When the religious leader clasped both of their hands and brought them together, pronouncing in his booming voice that they were now officially husband and wife, Peter looked straight at Estarra. He could hardly believe how stunningly beautiful she appeared. For just a moment, he forgot everything else.
Then they kissed, oblivious to the uproarious cheer of the crowds. When she met his gaze, blinking, her expression of hope and wonder and happiness made every moment of the difficult and drawn-out preparations worth the effort.
Afterward, they passed the Archfather and walked together down a single joined path away from him.
For the rest of that day and throughout the evening, the King and Queen were bombarded with sounds and colors. The fury of the celebrations and music numbed the newlyweds. The toasts, endless feasting, dances, and musical performances made Peter dizzy.
He knew that the public’s expectations had risen to a fever pitch along with their anger and thirst for revenge against the hydrogues. Several times in open discussions, he had intentionally let slip his concern over “the Chairman’s failure” to make any progress against the enemy, and his worry that the recent Golgen expedition was an obvious waste of effort and equipment.
Before the banquet, in a small gesture intended to put Basil in his place, Peter had given the wedding planners clear instructions about the arrangement of seats. He’d implied that he was simply honoring the Chairman’s wishes “to remain unobtrusive,” as usual.
When all the guests had filed to their