Penitence and Tenderness

A happy marriage was said to require trust. Affection, too, if one was fortunate, and enough familiarity that two people might eventually find comfort in sharing a life. There had been a time when René believed such things naturally followed marriage. He had learned otherwise early enough. By the morning of his second marriage ceremony, he expected considerably less. 

He hoped the Meren family expected no more from him than they had said.

His mother adjusted René’s cravat for the third time. He kept still while she smoothed the fabric beneath his chin, then inspected him with the grave concentration usually reserved for damaged goods.

“The Merens have been very generous,” she said as she yanked his collar towards herself.

“I know,” René whispered.

Her fingers paused at his collar. An unpleasant pull of her mouth made René’s heart pound harder. “Then behave as though you do.”

René lowered his eyes, though he could still feel her gaze upon him. He gave a single, faint nod. She seemed pleased enough to let go of him.

The room overlooked the eastern gardens, though there was little to see from where he stood besides the tops of the hedges and a strip of pale sky. The Merens had been gracious enough to offer their house in Welkron for the ceremony. The matter was to be settled quietly.

As he waited to be called downstairs, René took another look at himself in the silver mirror. The white scarf sat perfectly tight around his neck, so he did not dare adjust it further. His fingers trembled slightly as he gathered the short strands of dark hair, trying to tuck them behind his ear.

The clock on the mantelpiece struck eleven. René glanced toward the door. They were supposed to have gone downstairs five minutes ago. And just moments later, footsteps approached and someone knocked.

Mrs. Rell hurried quietly to open the door. A servant stood on the other side and, after apologizing for the intrusion, informed them that the Merens were waiting downstairs.

As he descended the stairs, René felt faint. He kept himself upright by gripping the banister. His gaze followed the embroidered carpet down to where the Merens waited below.

“Stand straight,” Mrs. Rell whispered through her teeth.

René straightened. With his head raised, his gaze had nowhere else to settle but on the three people waiting for them.

Mrs. Meren adjusted her sage-green silk dress as they approached, smiling warmly. Her scent was stronger than her husband’s, though carefully restrained. Beside her, Mr. Meren carried the softer sweetness René expected of an Omega his age.

Leon’s was harder to find.

“I hope your journey was pleasant,” Mrs. Meren said.

“Very much so. And we cannot thank you enough for receiving us here.” Mrs. Rell’s voice echoed in the hallway and they shook hands.

“Nonsense. It seemed the most suitable place for the occasion.”

Mr. Meren turned his smile towards René. “We are very pleased to have you here.”

“You are too kind,” René managed to murmur.

“I believe the arrangement will suit everyone very well,” Mrs. Rell said.

“As do we,” Mrs. Meren replied. “The circumstances may be somewhat unusual, but there is no reason the union itself should be.”

Mr. Meren glanced towards his son. “Leon has always preferred a quieter life. I expect you will find the estate in Langrer quite agreeable.”

“I am certain René will be very happy there,” Mrs. Rell said.

René kept his expression pleasant. Apparently, his happiness had already been settled.

René felt heat surge from beneath his ribs towards his neck, but loosening the cravat was not an option. A trace of his own scent reached him. He swallowed and forced himself to settle.

His scent slipped despite his efforts, and Leon’s gaze shifted towards him. Leon’s lips parted slightly as his eyes settled on René. After a brief moment, he pressed them together again and gave René a small nod, accompanied by a smile.

Though only twenty-two, Leon had seemed more composed than most men his age when René first met him a month earlier. But his rigid posture made even the small difference in height feel imposing, and René almost instinctively slouched before him.

As Leon greeted Mrs. Rell, René’s eyes dropped. With nowhere else to look, he glanced at Leon’s gloved hands. He kept them mostly to himself as he spoke. One rested in his trouser pocket, while the other clenched and unclenched absently. The rhythm soothed some of René’s unease.

The Merens didn’t seem to want the day to stretch on, so after enough pleasantries had been passed around, the party moved into the drawing room.

Mr. Meren rested a hand on his son’s shoulder as he gestured towards the table at the far end of the room. A man René had not noticed before stood beside it, waiting for them. The papers had already been laid out, accompanied by a bottle of ink.

“Shall we?” Mrs. Meren asked.

Mrs. Rell placed a hand between René’s shoulders, but he moved before she had the chance to push. Leon walked beside him towards the table.

René kept his eyes ahead.

The official greeted them both before opening the register. He stated their names, followed by those of their families, and explained the purpose of their presence before asking Leon to step forward.

“Leon Meren, do you accept this union and the obligations that accompany it?”

“I do.” His answer came without hesitation.

René swallowed when the official turned towards him.

“René Corré, do you accept this union and the obligations that accompany it?”

There was little use in looking anywhere else.

“I do.”

The official moved the register before them. Leon was asked to sign first.

René watched him take off his white gloves. Leon pulled at the fabric between his fingers, gathered the gloves in his right hand, and placed them inside his pocket.

His fingers were long and narrow, the knuckles pronounced. He held the pen loosely as he bent over the page and wrote his name. When he finished, he set it beside the register and stepped away.

The ink was still wet beside Leon’s name when René signed beneath it.

Their parents followed as witnesses. Mrs. Meren signed first, then Mrs. Rell, each taking their place at the table with considerably more ease than René had managed.

The official appeared satisfied, as were the Merens. Mrs. Rell looked between them.

“Well,” she said, “you need not stand quite so far apart now.”

Mrs. Meren laughed softly. “Give them a moment. They have scarcely spoken.”

“All the more reason to begin.”

René glanced at Leon. Leon’s eyes rested on him for a moment before he turned his head and offered his arm. With a deep, broken inhale, René took it.

His grip was tentative, his fingers barely resting against Leon’s arm through the fabric of his jacket. René managed what he hoped was a convincing smile for his pleased in-laws.

They finally resembled newlyweds instead of two men waiting for separate carriages.

They would leave for Langrer as soon as the ink dried.