Bryn gasped, recognizing the Mir emblem. “It’s Mars! Mars and Illiana have come!” Anger and fear vanished from her heart, overtaken by excitement. She squeezed Rangar’s hand tightly. “We must greet them!”
He held her back gently. “They’ve come from the Mirien for you, my love. Hold your place here, where you belong. Today, let the world come to you instead.”
She sank back into his arm as the carriage stopped at the edge of the square. Her heart thumped in anticipation as the driver climbed down. A team of Mir soldiers on horseback formed a protective circle around the carriage.
The driver announced, “Their royal highnesses, King Mars and Queen Illiana of the Mirien!”
Illiana emerged first, then helped Mars down. Though their travel clothes were rumpled, they both beamed with good health and happiness. Golden crowns rested on their heads, and a black eye mask embroidered with golden threads circled Mars’s eyes.
The Mir soldiers moved their horses to form an aisle through the parted crowd to the dais. Hand-in-hand, Mars and Illiana made their way over the packed snow. The crowd’s excited murmurs reflected the buzzing in Bryn’s heart. She could hardly stop herself from running to the end of the dais and gripping her brother’s hands as he climbed the stairs with Illiana’s guidance.
“Brother. You got my letter,” she breathed. “You came.”
“Of course, Mouse. The letter was apprehended, but we got it back in time to read the contents. You were at my wedding, and I’d move mountains to be at yours.”
Bryn squeezed Illiana’s hands. “I can’t imagine how fast you must have traveled—”
Valenden cleared his throat, interrupting her. “I know this is a happy reunion, princess, but let us not forget we’re in the middle ofyour own wedding.”
Red rose to Bryn’s cheeks. Illiana giggled and said, “May we join you on the dais?”
“Of course.” Bryn motioned to the place next to Valenden. “We would be honored to have the king and queen of the Mirien with us as guests of honor.”
Once everyone had resumed their places, and the crowd settled down from the excitement, the old vicar lifted his book. “The gods have gathered us here today to bind not only a man and a woman, but a king and his chosen bride. Among our most sacred traditions is thefralenbond. When King Rangar Barendur and Lady Bryn Lindane were brought into this world, their souls were separated from the Great Ones and placed in human bodies for an unknown amount of years before they would ultimately return to the Great Ones in death. And while on earth, both of these two faced the God of Death, yet their souls were saved by the other. A life saved is a soul owned, and two lives saved by two souls is the ultimate binding of fates.”
The crowd murmured at this, and Bryn caught the words “fate” and “meant to be” muttered frequently. She squeezed her hands together, feeling as though it was impossible to deny what Rangar had always attested: they were fated soulmates.
The vicar flipped a page in his book and turned to Bryn. “Bryn Lindane of the Mirien, do you bind yourself with this man?”
She clenched her hands harder. Months ago, she’d stood on this stage across from Trei, confronted with the same question. Her heart had begged her to say no because her heart belonged to another.
Now, she could finally say exactly what she felt. “I do. Now and forever.”
Chapter 25
WEDDING PART TWO . . . a kiss as husband and wife . . . Bryn's gift to Rangar . . . dancing . . . Saraj's future
The vicar bowed his head toward Rangar. “And do you, Rangar Barendur, King of the Baersladen, bind yourself to this woman?”
A hush fell over the crowd, or maybe it was only in Bryn’s imagination. She felt as though time stood still, and it was just her and Rangar in the whole world. Maybe the gods really had chosen them to be together, she thought, because everything about this moment felt right.
A ray of golden sunset light broke through the distant clouds to illuminate Rangar’s face. He murmured, “I do. Now and forever.”
Bryn’s heart leaped in her chest. A bubble of emotion fought its way up until she felt tears in her eyes.
“You may begin the marriage with a kiss—”
Rangar interrupted the vicar by pulling Bryn into his arms and kissing her with every ounce of his soul. The moment their lips touched, Bryn felt a spark as the dying sunlight sank below the horizon. The spark grew into a flame, which swelled into an inferno. Rangar leaned her backward to deepen the kiss as though hundreds of villagers and soldiers weren’t watching.
They were both breathless when they finally broke apart. Rangar pressed his forehead against hers as he whispered, “You are mine. I am yours. I pledge that I shall honor and love you for all your days and into the afterlife.”
She gripped his shoulder. “I love you.”
The cheering crowd threatened to drown out the vicar’s words as he spoke the final portion of the ceremony that officially declared Bryn to be queen of the Baersladen. A rare, wide smile cropped up on Rangar’s face and didn’t seem inclined to go away anytime soon. With their arms around each other’s backs, they waved to their people.
Mage Marna approached Bryn with Queen Anathalda’s bronze crown atop a velvet pillow. It was shaped like twigs like Rangar’s, yet finer, with only a single bear claw in the front.
“Lady Bryn,” Mage Marna said. “It is my honor to name you as our queen.”
