For a long pause we stayed that way, tangled up like we’d grown together.
“I always thought if I loved someone this way,” he whispered into my hair, “the fear of losing it would be constant. I was wrong.”
“How so?”
“I never knew the happiness would outweigh the fear.” Jonas rolled onto his shoulder, facing me. “Making you my wife was the best scheme I will ever think up, Fire. I am desperately in love with you, I hope you know.”
“As am I.” I kissed him gently. “You are my sweetest nightmare.”
Epilogue
THE MIST THIEF
Mira was givenliberties and all the glittering fanfare to transform the gardens of the Black Palace. Bespelled powders from clever elixirs coated branches and leaves, causing the trees and shrubs to shine like starlight.
Even some lazy sparks of Sun Wings had ventured from Natthaven into the groves of Klockglas. The suspicious creatures added a few glows of gold, as if they’d entered the gardens out of curiosity more than anything.
Once more, I stood in a satin tent, waiting.
Unknowns, apprehension, resentment, all of it had twisted my stomach months ago. Tonight, the only knots were beautiful anticipation.
A throat cleared. Jonas’s father stepped inside the tent. Someone must’ve urged the king to look more the part. He wore black as always, but his dark sword was properly positioned in a polished sheath on his waist. His hair was freshly braided off the sides and smoothed down, and he was desperately trying to hide the irritation in his features for his palace being invaded by endless droves of people.
I let out a muffled snort behind my hand. “Surviving, Daj?”
The smallest flick of a grin teased his mouth. “For a moment or two longer.”
Doubtless Mira was behind the king’s agreeability. The woman could be rather frightening when she set out to organize a revel.
In truth, Cara became Mira’s right hand, aiding the princess like a tyrant’s minion to create a truly regal event. When Mira insisted I would be clad in a full, elven-style gown, Cara was there to refute my initial protests that it wasn’t necessary, and saw to it a gown was commissioned.
I readied to roll my eyes when the garment was delivered to the Natthaven palace two nights ago, but when I saw the silver satin layered in gold and blue stitching and lace, I could do nothing but admire like the rest.
Inge Hob even added new heart glass a few Dokkalfar had polished and prepared for her use.
I smoothed my palms over the bodice, already golden with the race of my heart.
“If you’re having second thoughts, I know more than one morally ambiguous sod in there who’d be willing to smuggle you out.”
I laughed and hooked my arm around the king’s elbow. “Never a second thought, I merely want to skip the production and get the man alone. I know he’s your son, but frankly, you lot have yourselves to blame for me speaking my true thoughts. None of you know how to be vague.”
The smile spread a little more on my father-in-law's mouth. “Never saw the purpose in speaking untruths.”
Thieves, killers, crooks, but they drew the line at lies.
“You have given him happiness,” the king said in his dark, low rasp. “I do not say it enough, but that is a debt I cannot repay. You are as much an alver as you are elven, girl.”
I tilted my head back, blinking. “Mira is going to be furious at you for making me cry like an infant.”
“Then stop.”
“Then stop speaking.”
“Gladly.”
Outside, folk from across the fae realms and Natthaven once more took up chairs and benches wrapped in shocks of gold. There was little divide between them now. Elven folk sat between fae, alvers, and mortals.
Dokkalfar had slipped into alver society with more ease than anticipated. Their affinities to summon healing into talismans and charms intrigued fae folk and healers amongst the alvers.
