Lira's professional mask slips slightly. "She's strong, but this is... cruel. To make her play out her heart’s desire with such…"
"We know," Rafe says quietly, “but it will be over quickly.”
“After all she’s endured,” I say to Lira, “she can do this. It’s the last hoop she needs to jump through. And as you know, we chose the shortest ceremony in the galaxy. Now go and stay with her until it’s time.” I have an irrational fear that Eve’s going to disappear with Terra Ka and leave us standing at the altar.
I watch as Lira departs and guests begin arriving. Zira sweeps into the ballroom with Marcus at her side—he's wearing an expensive suit, but still very much an employee. Board members, business associates, progressive politicians who support the personhood laws, follow. Even Tribune Jin Kol's successor, Kai Lo, are all here to witness the legal precedent.
As we turn to take our places at the front of the ballroom on a makeshift stage, I’m surprised to see our father.
"Boys," he greets us, Autumn at his heel in decorative chains. "Quite the spectacle you've arranged."
"Father," Rafe acknowledges. "We didn't know if you’d come. You skipped the last one."
“Bah,” he waves his hand. “Why would I waste my time witnessing a sham wedding? But this.” He surveys the elaborate setup, “Is worth it. And seeing Eve finally happy. Goddesses know I suffered through her worst days; I deserve to see her smile. Though parading her around naked at her own wedding seems excessive.”
"The law?—"
"Yes, yes. The law." He says dismissively. "I guess they wanted to squeeze one final humiliation in there for all of you.”
The officiant, a Reima Two judge who specializes in complex marriages, takes her position near us and says, “All present are now binding witnesses.”
And then the doors at the other end of the ballroom open. Eve enters, and my heart stops.
She walks with her head high, every inch of exposed skin on display, but somehow still maintaining dignity through sheer will. The collar at her throat—that damned symbol of ownership—catches the light. But it's her face that is bewitching me. Perfect makeup: dark lips, smoky eyes, and cheekbones highlighted to sharp perfection with pink. A work of art that says clearer than words: Look at my face, not my body. Her whole demeanor screams,I am worthyand I have never been prouder of her.
The crowd murmurs with shock. No one has ever seen a naked human with Reima Two makeup on. But if Eve hears them, she ignores them. Her brown eyes are fixed only on us. And I’ve never felt so nervous.
"Breathtaking," Rafe murmurs.
"Our brave prisoner,” I say.
Eve reaches us, and says, "Hi.” Then under her breath, “This is horrible."
"We know," I reply. "But you won’t die."
“The last time you said that to me, you almost killed me with a whip.”
“This time I mean it,” I correct. “And remember, Dr. Veil was there.”
The judge clears her throat to get us to stop talking. "Goddesses take note. Today we gather to witness something unprecedented. The marriage of property to persons, transforming a sentence of degradation into one of dignity. Some might even say the dark glass hiding the truth about the Lost People will be broken today. And that the Sovereigns will have shattered it for us, as one of the Lost People has chosen them to be her husbands, according to Imperial tradition.”
I barely hear the judge’s formal words. All I can see is Eve—the way she stands between us, naked and collared but unbroken.
Ours.
"The vows," the judge prompts.
Rafe goes first, as he does in everything. His voice is steady despite the emotion I know he's feeling. "Eve Eden, I take you as my wife. Not as property, but as a partner. Not less than, but equal in all ways the law allows and beyond what it recognizes. I vow to spend every day of your remaining sentence and every day after, proving that you are cherished, respected, and free."
Then he takes his ceremonial dagger and cuts his palm, letting his blood flow freely down onto the ground between us. “No one will ever come between us. May the goddesses witness my sacrifice.”
Eve makes a small gasp, and I realize no one told her about this.
“You won’t die,” I whisper, ‘It’s just a small cut.” I say as Rafe puts his blade into her small hand and nods to her.
The judge says, “Eve Eden, you must cut your own hand for the goddesses and connect it with Sovereign Rafe’s.”
Eve shakes her head slightly.
