“Where are you taking me?” she asks.
“Back in time to a moment that should have been so much more than it was. You deserved so much more.” He never even hesitates as he flies around corners and hurries down corridors. Did he really memorize the castle in the short time he was there?
Stars above. He’s taking her to the assembly room.
When they reach the massive wooden doors, he finally stops, and her chest heaves as she struggles to catch her breath.
“Forgive me,” he says. “I should have slowed down.”
She just laughs. “I clearly need to spend more time running with you.”
As her breathing returns to normal, he studies her.
All of her.
His eyes slide over her like a caress, and heat fills her at the warmth in his gaze.
Then her leather dress transforms around her into a glistening gown that sparkles in the light from the gas lamps hanging on the walls. The dress is pure white satin with a shoulderless sweetheart neckline, hugging every curve until it flares at her hips.
Stars above.
“Almost,” he says thoughtfully, and she glances up to see him studying her still.
Then a slit works its way from the floor-length hem up her leg, over her knee, stopping mid-thigh, and she gasps.
“Perfect,” he says softly, and when she looks up again, he’s dressed in the formal elven clothing he wore to their wedding—the black frock coat made of some sort of satin or similar fabric and the matching trousers.
He reaches a hand toward her. “Be the other half of my love story, Arisanna.”
Her throat feels suddenly thick, and she nods as she places her hand in his.
He pulls open the heavy doors with his free hand and glances back at her. “Wait here.”
Then he jogs to the front of the assembly room and turns back to look at her. That beautiful smile she loves fills his gorgeous face, and her heart beats a little faster as his eyes crawl over her once more.
This scandalous gown is so much better than the cupcake dress she wore to their wedding, and he clearly agrees. If he’d looked at her like that the day they wed, her heart might have stopped beating altogether.
Music fills the grand room, but it’s not Nunian music. It’s soft and lilting, flowing like water trickling over rocks in a brook as stringed instruments add a soulful edge to the melody.
An elven symphony.
And it’s beautiful.
He beckons her closer, and she focuses on putting one foot in front of the other. Whether it’s mere moments or a lifetime before she reaches him is impossible to say. She’s too busy getting lost in his eyes.
He draws her hand to his lips properly this time, but it feels wrong.
“I think you missed, my elven prince,” she whispers as she turns her hand in his palm, and his smile grows. Never losing eye contact, he lifts her inner wrist to his velvety lips, and sparks shoot to her fingertips.
He takes her hands in his, running his thumbs over her knuckles as he looks down at their joined hands. Then he sighs. “I don’t remember what I promised you that day.”
Her heart melts a little. “You were just going through the motions, trying to survive.”
“I made vows to you I can’t even recall, though.”
Her heart reaches across the space between them, and she squeezes his hands. “I remember what you promised me.”
He looks up at her. “Will you help me remember?”
