Erica Moonwhisper's Arc

Chapter 6 of 7

The morning after the king signed, drums woke the camp. The wedding would happen at the central fire before noon. Erica dressed in her teal gown and set the flower crown on her silver hair. Then a warrior led her out, and she saw the trouble at once. She knew nothing of how the cat clan wed. One wrong step could void the union, and the war would start again. Zera walked beside her toward the fire. Zera set a hand on Erica's arm, gentle, the way a bride touches a bride. The gesture was for the crowd. Her family watched from woven mats. "They will test you," Zera said low, not moving her lips. "The rite has three parts. I cannot speak them for you." "Then tell me now," Erica whispered. "No time." Zera's ears flicked. "Watch me. Do what I do." Nalara stood near the king, small and still, her pink nose lifted. Zera's mother missed nothing. Her gold eyes moved from Erica's crown to her hands to her feet, weighing each. Erica felt read to the bone. Nalara leaned toward the king and murmured something. He grunted. Prince Valor lounged by the fire, orange fur bright. He watched Erica with the same lazy calm he'd worn when she rejected him. "First they offer meat," he said, flat and quiet, only to her. "You take it with your left hand. Right hand means you rule alone. Left means you share." Erica stared at him. He had no reason to help. He shrugged one shoulder. A warrior held out a strip of cooked meat on a wooden plate. The camp went silent. Erica reached with her left hand and took it. Zera's shoulders dropped a hair. Nalara's tail stopped twitching. Second, Zera knelt at the fire and pressed her palm to the warm stones. Erica knelt and did the same. The heat bit her skin. She held it. A low sound rolled through the warriors, approval. Third, Zera turned and spoke a word in the clan tongue that Erica did not know. The crowd waited. Erica could not repeat it. So she did the only thing left. She took Zera's hand, pressed it to her own chest, over her heart, and held Zera's gold eyes. Silence. Then Nalara spoke, clear and dry. "She chose the older vow. The one before words." She looked at her daughter. "She meant it." The king rose. "Done," he said. "They are wed." The war was over in law now, sealed at the fire. Zera did not let go of Erica's hand. Her calm cracked, just once. "You didn't fake that," she said, low. "No," Erica said. Zera looked away, jaw tight. But her thumb moved once across Erica's knuckles. Then she leaned close. "My mother watched you win them," she breathed. "Now she'll want to know how. That's worse than any warrior."