“Mama says my dress is the crowning accomplishment of her entire seamstress career. That even in thebloom of her youth, she couldn’t have done better.”
Now I want to see her in it, so I can then take it off and lick what’s underneath. I snap my fingers. “This is fine. I’ll wear it. Let’s go. The nobles are waiting.”
“Just the nobles?” Tristano waggles his eyebrows. “Or the noble in your trouse—”
“Enough!” Brock bellows, his face already turning red. “Let’s go.”
Captain Anolius waits in the hallway and turns on his heel to lead us to the throne room.
“I expect every one of you to behave for the ceremony,” Brock grates.
“Just the ceremony, right?” Bladin grins. “Misbehaving is allowed at the celebration. It has to be, otherwise it’s not a celebration.”
Brock grumbles.
I block out their blather. “Are you ready?”
“I don’t know.”
That’s a bucket of cold water. “What do you mean?”
“I mean Lucidia keeps telling me it’s almost time and then checks my hair and fidgets with my bouquet, but then goes and checks the throne room, comes back, and does it all over again. So I don’t know when I’m ready.”
“Oh.” I can breathe again. “I thought you meant—”
“That I wasn’t ready to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“I was ready to marry you after you fed me that peach.”
“Was it that tasty?” I smile.
“Your kiss was, yes. Impertinent king.”
I can’t argue with that.
“Oh, here Lucidia comes again.”
Captain Anolius opens the door to the throne room. I stride in and take my place atop the stairs. This ceremony used to be reserved solely for the nobles. Now, there’s a mix of guests. On the front rows are several of the warriors who fought and bled on the front lines. Yeltin is sitting beside a noble fae, both of them bearing battle scars, and he’s trying to impress her with his crimson cap. Love is strange and wondrous, and perhaps spreading, by the looks of it.
Brunilla is also present with Lunarie at her side. We granted a special invitation for this event, and it seemed to put Emma in good spirits to hear the sisters are doing well in the bog. Even Gwen has taken to collecting flowers and studying herbs that grow in abundance there, if Lunarie is to be believed. The changelings are still a work-in-progress, but Lunarie protects them from the world, and for now, that is enough.
I take a deep breath as Brock gives me a nod. The sun is bright overhead, the repaired Shard reflecting its brilliance in all directions.
When I first went to the night realm to choose a consort, I didn’t want one, let alone ten. But then I happened upon a mischievous changeling, one with fire to rival the sun itself. I should’ve known then that she was meant to be mine.
I’m about to give the signal to start the ceremony when someone stumbles in from the back and slides down into one of the rear pews.
“Who invited her?” Charen growls.
“I don’t know. But keep an eye on her.” Brock straightens his already-straight lapels.
Of course there’s an uninvited guest. Every wedding seems to have at least one. Though not every wedding has an obsidian witch in attendance.
45
Emma
