“So perfect.” Mama clasps her hands and circles me again, checking every stitch with the eyes of night hawk. “My best work.”
“Can we talk about me instead of the dress?” I wrinkle my nose.
“I rather like the pattern.” Sophina leans closer to inspect the pale green fabric. “Sort of like a hex.”
“What?” My mother wrings her hands. “A hex? Oh, no. Oh no, no, no. It’s too late to re-embroider the—”
“No.” Tritus takes Sophina’s elbow and pulls her away. “Don’t worry, Eloisa. Sophina’s just talking. Alchemists and all their wild imaginings, you know?” He makes a pffft sound.
“What?” Sophina protests.
“We talked about keeping the inside thoughts inside,” he hisses and sits her down between he and Caltinius.
“It’s not a hex.” I cast a glance down. “I’m pretty familiar with those now. It’s just the most beautiful embroidery this realm has ever seen.”
Mother lets out a breath and stops twisting her hands. “Thank the Ancestors.”
She inspects it one more time, her eyes seizing on a stitch at my waist. “Wait. This one is pulling just a hair. I can fix it.” She pulls a needle and thread from her pocket.
Lucidia rushes back from the throne room. “It’s time!”
Mother gives me an agonized look. “Now?”
“Now.” Lucidia takes my mother’s needle and thread and ushers us to the door.
Music wafts through the air, sweet voices that contain multitudes of notes and depths. “Wow. Who’s singing? They’re amazing.”
“Malnaloch,” Lucidia answers. “His song can be heard throughout the realm.”
“But he hates me.” I gawk.
“I suppose he was grateful for the feast at the battle of night and day.” Lucidia gives me a stern nod, and Mama grips my elbow lightly. With a pull, Lucidia opens the wide door, and everyone in the throne room stands.
Flower petals are thick in the air, and every surface seems to glitter with the purest sunlight.
Solano stands at the front, his gaze on me, his golden eyes shining. “You look…”
I smile and walk down the aisle, the falling flower petals tickling my wings. “Yes?”
“Stunning.”
“Thank you, my lord.” I can’t look away from him. I never could. “I rather enjoy your fluffy bird look, as well.”
He arches a brow, and his smirk is far sexier than any smirk should be.
When I reach the throne and take his hand, I know our bond is unbreakable. His fiery crown blazes and casts bright sparkles on everything around us. Like the sun lights the moon, so my mate casts me in a glow that warms me, comforts me, and promises me love everlasting.
* * *
The ceremony is brief, Brock officiating with his usual precision and directness. We pledge our faith, saying the vows and promising our lives to each other and our realm.
When the rites have been finished, Solano takes me in his arms and kisses me for far, far too long. Brock clears his throat at least three times before we separate, and my skin is on fire for more of Solano’s touch. The guests cheer, the redcaps hooting and yelling as Brock gives them a death glare. He continues the practiced words.
Solano’s impatience grows, his crown crackling as Brock finally ends the ceremony. The crowd cheers again, shaking the walls with their joy. The people of the realm are more than ready for good times. The war took a toll, and the day realm has pledged to help the Nightlands rebuild.
Cressa watches us from her special seat reserved for dignitaries. The only sister Eraldon was unable to find and kill, she is the head of a realm in turmoil. Young and traumatized from witnessing her brother’s wrath, she has shadows and darkness haunting her steps. I am technically queen of the night realm, but I will pass the crown to her as soon as she is ready to lead. She’s bent but not broken. Time will heal her, make her strong, and show her the path as leader of night.
She lifts her chin when I meet her eyes, and she joins in a cheer that vibrates through the throne room.
