Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

he wedding reception was a glittering affair of political theater and barely concealed threats. Lords and ladies from both kingdoms mingled in the great hall, their conversations a careful dance of diplomacy and positioning, while servants moved between the tables with wine and elaborate delicacies.
I sat at the high table beside Prince Aldric, playing the role of radiant new bride while mentally preparing for the evening's true challenges. The soul-binding from the ceremony had created an unexpected connection between us—I could feel his emotions like a distant echo, and I suspected he could sense mine as well.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, leaning closer under the pretense of offering me wine.
"Define 'all right,'" I murmured back. "I'm married to a man I barely know, my allies are being systematically eliminated, and your father is planning something that will likely end with my death."
"Our death," he corrected. "The soul-binding works both ways. If you die, I die."
I looked at him sharply. "You knew that would happen?"
"I suspected. Soul magic always has consequences for both parties involved." He paused, studying my expression. "You didn't know?"
"I knew the theoretical risks. I didn't know the practical implications." I took a sip of wine to buy time to process this information. "Which means you chose to bind your life to mine, knowing it would probably kill you."
"I chose to ensure that if my father's plans succeed, I won't be around to see the consequences."
Before I could respond to that surprisingly noble sentiment, Lady Lydia approached our table with a bright smile and a crystal goblet filled with what looked like ceremonial wine.
"Congratulations, darling," she said, offering me the goblet. "A traditional toast from the bride's closest friend."
I accepted the goblet while studying her face. Her smile was perfect, but her eyes held something I couldn't quite identify—triumph, perhaps, or vindication.
"Thank you," I said, lifting the goblet toward my lips.
Prince Aldric's hand suddenly covered mine, stopping the motion. "Perhaps we should toast together," he suggested, his voice carefully neutral.
I felt a flash of warning through our new connection—he sensed danger, though I wasn't sure if it was from the wine or something else entirely.
"Of course," I said, setting the goblet down. "Though I'm afraid I'll have to wait. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the excitement."
Lady Lydia's smile flickered for just a moment. "Oh, but it's tradition. The bride must drink from the friendship cup before the evening's festivities can truly begin."
"I'm sure the tradition can wait a few more minutes," Prince Aldric said firmly.
"Actually," a new voice interrupted, "I don't think it can."
Lord Cassius had approached our table, flanked by two of his guards. His expression was pleasant, but his eyes were cold as winter steel.
"The friendship cup is more than just tradition," he continued. "It's a magical ritual that binds the bride to her female companions, ensuring loyalty and trust within the marriage. Without it, the wedding itself is considered incomplete."
I realized we were at a crossroads. Refusing to drink would confirm their suspicions about my intentions and likely trigger immediate conflict. But drinking from a goblet provided by a compromised ally could be walking into a trap.
"I see," I said, picking up the goblet again. "Well, we certainly can't have an incomplete wedding."
Through our connection, I felt Prince Aldric's alarm spike, but I also sensed something else—a plan forming in his mind.
"Wait," he said, reaching for his wine cup. "If we're honoring traditions, we should honor all of them.
The groom is supposed to taste the bride's wine first, to ensure it's pure and wholesome."
Lord Cassius's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's a very old tradition. Not commonly observed anymore."
"But still valid," Prince Aldric insisted, taking the goblet from my hands. "I wouldn't want to neglect any aspect of the ceremony."
As he lifted the goblet toward his lips, I felt a sudden surge of understanding through our bond. He wasn't just trying to protect me from potential poison—he was trying to trigger whatever magical effect the wine was supposed to have, but on himself rather than me.
"Aldric," his father said sharply, "that's not necessary."
"I think it is," Prince Aldric replied, and drank deeply from the goblet.
The effect was immediate and dramatic. Prince Aldric's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed, convulsing violently as magical energy crackled around him. Through our soul-bond, I felt his pain like a physical blow, but I also felt something else—the wine hadn't been poison, but a magical catalyst designed to amplify certain abilities.
"Seize her," Lord Cassius commanded his guards, no longer bothering to maintain the pretense of celebration.
But I was already moving, the skull pendant at my throat blazing with cold light as I called upon the spirits of the recently dead. Master Dorian and Matthias answered my call, their ghostly forms materializing between me and the guards.
Chaos erupted in the great hall as guests realized something was seriously wrong. Some fled toward the exits, others drew weapons, and a few began casting spells of their own.
"You made a mistake," I called out to Lord Cassius over the din. "You assumed I needed to drink the wine to be affected by it. But soul-bonding works both ways."
I could feel the magical enhancement flowing through Prince Aldric's system and into mine through our connection. Whatever the wine was supposed to do to make me more susceptible to magical control was now happening to both of us, but since I understood what was happening, I could use it instead of being controlled by it.
"The ritual circle," I continued, drawing power from the ghostly spirits around me. "It's not in the crypt anymore, is it? You moved it again after Master Dorian was captured."
Lord Cassius's expression was grim but not defeated. "You're too late. The circle is already active, and the true binding will complete itself whether you're conscious or not."
"Then I suppose I'll have to make sure I stay conscious."
I raised my hands and felt the full power of my necromantic abilities surge through me, enhanced by the magical catalyst in the wine and focused by my desperate need to protect everyone I cared about. The spirits of the dead rose from their graves throughout the castle grounds, responding to my call for aid.
"This ends now," I declared, as the ghostly army began flowing into the great hall through the walls and windows.
Lord Cassius smiled coldly. "Yes, it does. But not the way you think."
He raised a bone artifact I recognized from my mother's research—a binding focus that could control necromantic energy and turn it against its wielder. If he activated it while I was channeling this much power, the backlash could destroy not just me, but everyone in the hall.
"Choose carefully, Princess," he said. "Your power, or their lives."
I looked around the hall at the terrified faces of innocent guests, at Elena crouched behind an overturned table, at Captain Marcus fighting desperately against overwhelming odds. Then I looked at Prince Aldric, still unconscious but breathing, his life bound to mine by magic we'd both chosen to embrace.
There was only one choice that mattered.
I began to gather every scrap of power I could reach, preparing to make the kind of sacrifice that would end this threat permanently, regardless of what it cost me.