“Fire writing. It’s a traditional magic display during our bonding ceremonies. They’re practicing.”
“It looks beautiful.”
“Yes,” he said. But he wasn’t looking at the skies when he said it; he was looking at her. She blushed, and he angled his gaze back toward the sky. “The whole court is officially starting to get excited about this wedding, I believe.”
“The king is, certainly,” Sephia said, grinning. “He keeps popping into my room and asking for my opinion on everything from flowers to chair coverings.”
“He’s just excited for an excuse to throw a party.”
They shared a quiet laugh.
“If it’s too much, we can always run away and elope,” she said, more seriously. “I would be okay with that, just so you’re aware.”
“You know, weeks ago, I would have agreed with that idea in an instant.” He looked back to the fire and smoke filled sky, a dreamily content look upon his handsome face. “But now I think they might be on to something— we should celebrate.”
Sephia’s expression brightened once more. “I agree.”
“So bring on the decorations.”
“And the drinking?”
“And the dancing.”
“And the presents?”
“And the feast.”
“Okay, but one rule about that last one.”
“And what might that be?” he asked.
“You aren’t allowed to cook any of that feast,” she said, and then they were both smiling, laughing even harder than before, and he leaned in to kiss her as the shadows around them intertwined with the light of the setting sun.
The End
* * *
