“This is everything I could have asked for.” Katla takes my other hand in hers and squeezes it tight.
“I’m glad you like it.” Now from the front, Theo walks down the aisle, a cane in his hand as he slowly makes his way. Keller lets go of my hand and heads to where he holds his arm out to him. Theo just pats him on the shoulder and whispers something.
Together they join the group, and the whole time, I take in the sight before me. The two men who aren’t connected by blood but have an unbreakable bond that goes further than any DNA. They have a mutual respect.
“This is beautiful,” Theo says, raising his arm to the tall, fake trees. “Tomorrow will be a celebration to remember.”
“It will be,” Adela says. “I actually have a few things I need to go over with you quickly, Your Highness. Would you mind joining me?”
Theo shakes his head, and they walk over to his chair in front of the altar and hunker down for a conversation. I take that moment to drag Keller down the aisle, my arm threaded through his.
“I can’t believe this. It’s stunning. Did you know they were doing this?”
He nods. “It was a suggestion I made.”
“Really?” I ask, looking up at him.
“Yes. I knew how much you loved Frigga’s Sanctuary. I asked if there was a way to bring its ambiance to Norse Temple.”
I turn toward him now and sigh as I reach my hand to his shoulder. “You’re so good to me.”
His hands loop around my back, pulling me into his chest. “I just want to make you happy.”
“You have,” I say. “You’ve made me happier than I could ever imagine.”
“Good . . . because you’re mine . . . forever.” He leans down with a kiss, just as the front door to the temple opens, Henrik hustling down the aisle. Keller frowns and asks, “Everything okay?”
Henrik adjusts his glasses. “Just some protesters gathering outside the temple.”
“Protesters?” Keller asks as he releases my hand and moves past us.
“Ottar and Lara are handling them,” Henrik says. “But I would like to get ahead of any press coverage.”
Keller ignores him and goes to the front. I follow closely, and when he parts the door, we’re flooded with a chant.
“Not our prince. Not our prince.”
It’s all we hear before Ottar steps up to the door and into the temple. “This is none of your concern. Go back to your rehearsal.”
I glance at Keller and catch the telltale sign of his hardened jaw.
“Is it a threat?” he asks, teeth clenched.
“No,” Ottar answers. “Just a small group trying to cause problems. It’s being handled.” When Keller doesn’t move, Ottar stands taller and says, “It’s handled. Go back to the rehearsal.”
After a staredown that actually makes me shiver in my heels, Keller turns away, only to find me right behind him. “Lilly,” he says, surprised.
“Don’t,” I say, taking his hand. “Don’t let them get to you.”
“I’m not,” he says as he walks us back up to the head of the temple where everyone is gathered.
“Promise me,” I say, growing nervous that his attitude changed so quickly.
“Promise,” he says, squeezing my hand three times.
Three . . . times.
Our signal.
