Prism of Blinding Light by Alaia Cane

Prism of Blinding Light by Alaia Cane

Author:Alaia Cane [Cane, Alaia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brain Jar Books Pty Ltd.
Published: 2023-08-28T04:00:00+00:00


Once Radiant and future Radiant Consort were both safely on the ground, Na’rel was quick to usher Vadi to his place so the Waykeeper—clearly an officiate of some sort, though you wouldn’t know it from the ascetic robes and poor grooming—could begin the ceremony.

The imposing double doors of the Prism’s ceremonial cloister loomed a paltry five paces ahead. The frosted pearlescent glass gleamed, seeming to glow from within. It was, admittedly, a gorgeous sight. Had it been any other occasion, he would have made a study of it, taken detailed notes on the design with the intention of bringing the style home to Yanapoor. But this was no happy occasion and there was little point making plans for a homecoming that would never happen.

Their witnesses were already within, but a flurry of servants bustled through the cavernous hall. They filed one by one through a discreet entrance to the cloister, laden with trays of exotic fruit and nuts, jugs of wine and spiced water.

From the corner of his eye, Vadi spied the imposing radiant mother grab her son by the head and yank him down to better bellow into his ear about what an embarrassment he was before cuffing him over the head like an errant pup.

The sight was…satisfying.

Perhaps not all Sefi were barbarous dullards.

Vadi felt his future husband before he saw him. He threw off heat like a hearth fire, like he really was as radiant as his people claimed. They stood together before the door, the air silent and heavy with it.

“May I ask—”

“No.”

The indignity of dragging his would-be husband to their wedding circle had made Vadi even less inclined to hear a single word from his mouth. Vadi recalled the creeping warmth of the barbarian’s breath, the way it made him shudder and surge with adrenaline, fingers itching to close into fists.

His future husband blinked his strange violet eyes, titled his strange bald head, and flushed the colour of a sunset.

“I simply—”

“I said no, or do you not understand the meaning of that word?” Vadi asked. If so, it didn’t bode well for their wedding night.

They lapsed into blessed silence.

It didn’t last long.

“Your name,” he said, too quick to be cut off.

Vadi frowned, looking up. With both feet on the ground, his future husband was almost a head and a half taller than him, and Vadi was not a small man by any means. He fought the instinct to slide into a ready stance and met his future husband’s gaze steadily.

“…Yes?”

“What…ah.” He swallowed. “What is it?”

“You don’t know my name,” Vadi said, monotone.

Of course he didn’t. Why would a warmonger care any more for the meat that warmed his bed than the meat that fell to his light cannons? They were all but shadows, obliterated by the holy light of His Radiance.

Vadi could scream, he really could.

“Perhaps, A’zul Mo Zulai, you should be better prepared for your next marriage,” Vadi said, ignoring the startled gasp of the servant girl correcting His Radiance’s smudged wedding paint. Vadi had, thankfully, been spared the indignity of being stripped down and treated like a toddler’s canvas.



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