I halt before the office door, shaking my head.
I trust Oraphia. Her skills are nothing short of magic.
I trust Eve to have noted anything out of place.
And lastly, I trust Ryc and the look of awe upon his face moments ago.
“Alright, fine,” I say, my voice firm. “I’m open to upholding this tradition.”
With a soft laugh and a stunning smile, Ryc nods. “Then Eruswaits to meet you.”
?????????????
Several attendants titter about in a strangely silent whirlwind. They pick and preen at our attire, our hair, how my hand rests upon Ryc’s arm. Normally, I would be bothered. Irritated, even.
Not today.
Closed darkwood doors lie ahead, a single muffled voice speaking beyond them. Lilith’s, I realize.
“Right here, with me, always.”Ryc’s voice rings softly in my mind, reminding me of the night we met.
I lift my gaze to his.“Always, my light.”
As Lilith’s voice stops, the doors swing open, revealing the vast sea of faces turned in our direction. Ryc places a hand over mine, giving it a gentle squeeze as my ribs tighten.
Looking past them, straight down the center of the aisle, Lilith stands upon the dais, a beaming smile upon her face. Also clad in black, her crimson hair blazes against her ivory skin. Between her hands, she clutches a black pillow, upon it a crown.
A crown identical to the one resting upon Ryc’s brow.
Unlike the foyer, there’s no decadent display of florals. By comparison, the throne room lies barren giving little feature to anything outside the hundreds of faces and the pair of thrones behind Lilith.
Two tall darkwood seats, side by side, illuminated by the towering stained glass window behind them. Vines and ivy, the night sky and stars, cast the far end of the room in an ethereal blue glow.
Together, Ryc and I move.
Toward Lilith.
Through the center of the room.
And despite the silence, there’s anexcitedenergy. Smiles on faces, shining eyes… no low whispers, no shifting gazes. Heads and chins dip as we pass—a respect that doesn’tfeelforced.
Eve steps forward on my right as Cyran, across the aisle, emergeson the left. Cyran, as I expected, wears his full suit of gleaming silver armor, helmet, black cloak, weapons and all.
Ascending the steps onto the dais, Ryc turns to me, taking my hands in his. Lilith begins to speak, but her words are lost to the sound of my pounding heart in my ears. The room shifts and people take their seats.
Warmth and pride seep through our bond into my chest and I lift my eyes to Ryc.
“The start of our forever,”he says.
I smile.“The start of our forever was three centuries ago. You plagued my dreams until I met you in person.”
His smile becomes a smirk.“What can I say? I’m memorable.”
The fight in resisting the urge to scoff is monumental—disrupted by Lilith lifting the crown overhead. She places it upon my brow with a gentle touch, and my chest heaves. It’s lighter than expected, but then again… I’ve been carrying its weight upon my shoulders for months now.
Lilith ushers us to face the crowd as she steps back. Keeping my hand in his, Ryc’s fingers part to lace in mine. For the first time, I dare to look directly upon the faces staring at me. So many here… so few I recognize. Mostly lords and ladies I’ve seen in passing through the castle. No one I’ve held any conversation with.
To my surprise, three in the front stand out.
