The Soul Mate

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Hungary, 1074 A.C.E.

Treime was exhausted. It was the second day of wedding festivities and what little sleep she’d gotten Emilian had interrupted with vigorous bouts of lovemaking.

She was eager for life to get back to normal around camp but celebration is important to the Romani, especially after the birth of a child or a new marriage. The continuation of the clan is everything but Treime didn’t think her legs could take another day of dancing or lovemaking.

“Treime! Come see! The men have brought the pigs and they are huge!” Little Donka looked so excited about the roasting of pigs that she gave in, hiked up her skirts and followed the girl outside the bridal tent.

Emilian. She smelled him immediately. Although the copious amounts alcohol he’d ingested almost overpowered the beautiful scent she had associated with him her entire life.

Large hands encircled her waist and swung her around. “My wife, my beautiful wife!” A group of men playing fiddles paused in their merrymaking to cheer. Donka giggled before running off.

Treime swatted at her new husband. “Put me down.”

His smile faded. “What’s wrong puţin o?”

She shook her head. “Nothing really. Just tired.”

His smile returned. “In that case, you’ll be happy. It’s time Treime.”

Treime didn’t smile back. She wasn’t looking forward to this part of her wedding at all. She allowed her husband to lead her toward the bonfire where the feasting was in full swing. Her mami and sisters were waiting for her with tears streaming down their faces.

With a tentative glance at the Baró’s wife Treime felt her stomach sink all the way to her knees. Violca waited for her, stern-faced, holding Treime’s brand new diklo, ready to wrap it around her head and hide her hair from the world.

Treime loved her hair. She took extra good care of her shimmering waist length black locks, and didn’t care of it made her vain in the eyes of the lord. She knew it was beautiful and wanted to show it off. Wanted it to be seen and now wanted everyone to know that Emilian’s wife had such a lovely trait.

Her tată kissed her first, on both cheeks and both hands, his face full of fatherly pride. “Ten and eight already daughter? I swear you were born just yesterday.”

Her two sisters hugged her tight and her mami embraced her.

“I’m not leaving you,” Treime whispered to her weeping mami. “I’ll be right across camp with that… awful woman.”

“No, you’re not leaving,” Her mami whispered back. “But you are a woman now and I thank god I have raised such a wonderful child.”

She took out Treime’s braids slowly, much to Violca’s dismay, then ran her fingers gently through the loose hair. Treime had seen the ritual done so many times before and had never fully understood why everyone was so emotional over such a trivial thing.

But now, at her own ceremony, she was crying, refusing to leave the arms of her mami.

Violca pried her away and tied the violet colored scarf around her head. She knotted it tightly in place and tucked any stray hairs away to symbolize Treime’s status as a married woman. Never again would she be allowed to be seen in public without it. Her eyes met Emilian’s. He smiled at her, his pride evident. And then it was done.

Whooping with joy, Emilian leapt in the air. Then he grabbed Treime, swept her off her feet and before she knew it, they were dancing again.

By the time they reached their tent Treime could barely walk. Emilian lay her down on their lush bed of furs and kissed her tenderly.

“I hate it,” Treime pouted as Emilian began untying her diklo.

“Ah, puţin o you’re even more beautiful now that you are my wife.”

As Emilian began to untie her bodice, Treime shot him a look of annoyance and grunted her displeasure. “Really Emilian? Again?”

His eyes grayed and heat swept through her. “Really Treime, again and again and again. I shall never tire of you.”

She felt her husband’s magic envelope the small space; he could barely contain it in her presence.

Her own eyes grayed with lust and their shared magic crackled at her fingertips. She knocked Emilian on his back with a blast of air.

He laughed heartily. “Couldn’t Nature have gifted me a more docile wife?”

Treime’s magic crackled angrily as her temper flared.

Still on his back he held his arms out to her. “Come here my love, I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

“You can have your way husband,” She told him, smiling. “Just be sure to get me with child quickly. I have no desire to live with that mamă of yours any longer than we have too."

“Ahh, Treime…” He laughed again, rolling over top of her. “Have I given you reason to believe that I don’t plan on keeping you heavy with my children for many, many years to come?”