I love her.
The wedding is to be rushed and informal, but how or where we do it is of no concern to me now. Though we still haven’t spoken of love, I have always known, despite my stubborn self-denial. From the moment that scared yet defiant Fae with the wild, deep purple hair and captivating violet eyes was presented at Court as my future wife, something fundamental shifted in me. Every instinct I possessed bent towards her—to shield her, to stand between her and every threat, to earn even the smallest smile from those lips. She claimed my heart before I even knew I had one to give, found a pulse in me where I thought there was only silence.
I rush out of my suite.
I need to speak to her.
As I stalk the halls towards her door, I think of the things I want to say, and none of it seems quite enough. I rap on her door and hear the soft sound of her footsteps approaching. Before she can turn the handle, I grip the golden knob tight, holding it shut.
“Don’t open the door, Princess,” I hiss insistently. “It’s tradition that we do not see each other before the wedding.”
I hear laughter, and my heart soars.
“We don’t get to say any vows traditionally, but I wanted you to know this before we are married, before obligations and duty tarnish what is real. And this is real, Alaya. When I say these words, I’m not your Prince; I’m not hiding behind the crown that weighs so heavily and spitefully on my head. This is the flawed, utterly ruined Fae that knows, even given a lifetime and beyond to make up for the past, I am unworthy of you. Yet I laymy heart before you, ripped open and bleeding with honesty, hoping you will take it, scars and all. A heart that falls too quickly, loves too deeply and holds too tightly. But it’s yours.”
I lean against the door, my breath heavy and ragged in my chest. My heart pounds against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.
Silence falls beyond the door, the air heavy with my words.
I turn to leave when I hear the door fly open, and I turn back just in time to catch her in my arms, a riot of golden and black fabric billowing around us.
Her hands slide up and clasp behind my neck, and she leans up on her toes to brush her red, blushed lips across mine, a whisper of a kiss.
“We were never going to be traditional,” She laughs, her gaze holding me as if capturing this moment in memory. “You could ask me for my heart, and I would rip it out of my chest and place it in your hands. You could ask me for my life and my last breath would be yours. There is nothing—no part of me—I wouldn’t give to keep you. To have you love me for eternity. I love you, Kiernan Steel.”
Chapter Sixteen
Alaya
With little fuss and just the General and a Healing Fae—who conducted the simple and short ceremony as witnesses—we were married.
Kiernan stands beside me, looking so handsome in his best dress robes, those stupid golden boots, and his golden thorn crown jauntily crooked on his head. He even made an effort, attempting to tame that wild hair into some semblance of neatness. He smiles at me and looks down at our entwined hands, each of us wearing a simple golden wedding band on our index fingers, the root of the heart line.
We wait patiently at the base of the dais for the Healing Fae, an Elder with pure white hair framing his bright blue eyes and lined face. He is preparing something on a table that sits before the throne. The General fidgets beside him, looking bored.
“Kaleel?” he questions, turning towards the table.
“Yes, yes, almost ready,” Kaleel replies.
With a few more mutterings, he finally turns towards us. We both know next to nothing about what this Marriage Bond entails, and I can feel Kiernan’s nervous energy through our clasped hands. I startle as the Fae’s deep voice booms out into the silent room.
“Terra, Goddess of Kaladia. Bear witness to the bonding of these two Fae. Let the earth in their hearts be forever fertile and embrace your Gifts with eternal blessings.”
He holds out a glass vial towards us, swirling with green liquid.
“You both need to drink this before I cast the Marriage Bond.”
Kiernan takes it, sniffs it, then downs half, passing it to me. It smells of meadows, spring, and a faint metallic taint of magic. I swallow the rest, and it definitely doesn’t taste quite as pleasant as it smells.
Kaleel descends the few steps until he stands right in front of us, motioning for us to raise our embraced hands.
“Terra, we ask that you bestow your sacred Marriage Bond on this union so that they live as one. One Mind. One Spirit. One Life.”
He holds his hand above our own, and I start to feel a tingle from my palm, curling around over my index finger and snaking over and around my wrist. It starts to get hotter, a pain searing into my skin as if etched with a burning needle. I am about to break our embrace when the pain suddenly stops, and Kaleel bows his head.
“It is done.” He stands up straight, looking towards the General.
As I remove my hand from Kiernan’s, the General steps down, and we all look down at our hands.
