"For what?"
"For being brave enough to try," Gregory said. "For trusting me with your heart. For giving us a chance."
"Thank you for being worth the risk," Anthea replied.
He smiled—that soft, genuine smile that transformed his usually stern face—and kissed her temple. "Come. Let us go inside. I believe we have a marriage to consummate."
Heat flooded Anthea's cheeks. "Gregory?—"
"What?" he asked innocently. "We agreed to give this marriage a true shot. No holding back. That includes?—"
"I know what it includes," Anthea interrupted, but she was smiling. "And yes. Let us—" She stopped, suddenly shy despite everything they had just said to each other.
"Let us go upstairs," Gregory finished for her, his voice gentle. "Together. As husband and wife. Properly, this time."
"Yes," Anthea whispered. "Together."
They walked into the house hand in hand, leaving the celebration behind. Leaving the careful distance and the walls and the fear that had kept them apart.
Walking toward something new. Something terrifying and wonderful and entirely their own.
A real marriage.
Built on love and trust and the choice to be vulnerable with each other, even when it was difficult. Especially when it was difficult.
Anthea's heart felt full to bursting. Full of love for this man who saw her completely and loved her anyway. Full of hope for the future they would build. Full of gratitude for the courage to finally—finally—let herself be happy.
They climbed the stairs together, anticipation building with each step. At the landing, Gregory paused and turned to face her.
"Are you certain?" he asked. "We can wait if you?—"
"I am certain," Anthea said firmly. "I want this. I want you. I want everything we just promised each other."
"Then you have me," Gregory said. "All of me. Forever."
He swept her into his arms—literally lifted her off her feet—making her gasp and laugh as he carried her down the hall toward her chambers.
"Gregory! Put me down!"
"Absolutely not," he said. "I have read about this in novels. The husband is supposed to carry his bride over the threshold."
"We have been married for weeks," Anthea pointed out, still laughing.
"Then consider this a re-consummation," Gregory said, pushing open the door to her chambers with his shoulder. "A proper beginning to our proper marriage."
He set her down gently, and they stood facing each other in the candlelit room. The nervousness Anthea had expected did not materialize. Instead, she felt only certainty. Only rightness.
This was where she was meant to be. With this man. In this moment.
Building a future together.
"I love you," she said.
"I love you too," Gregory replied.
And when he kissed her again, when they finally came together as husband and wife in truth, Anthea felt the last of her walls crumble completely.
She was vulnerable. Exposed. Entirely at his mercy.
