From the heart line on the palm, a thin golden thread is etched in my skin, delicate and glinting in the low light. Tendrils snake up and around my index finger below the golden band and coils around my wrist, entwining to an intricate pattern, a band just above the wrist. Kiernan is also looking at his in awe, the pattern a beautiful tapestry on his skin.
“You may leave,” the General says gruffly “I will let the King know it is completed. Kiernan, you are expected at the Barracksfirst thing tomorrow. Enjoy your wedding night.” He smirks and stalks towards the doors.
Kiernan lets out a long, quiet sigh—the sound more relief than passion—and gently frames my face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the smooth line of my jaw. His eyes, swimming with a quiet, undeniable depth, don’t leave mine for a moment.
He leans in, the movement unhurried and reverent. The kiss is soft, a delicate pressure of his mouth on mine—a tender promise rather than a demand. It lasts only a few seconds, but when he pulls back, his lips barely lifted from mine, a faint, contented smile touches the corners of his mouth. He rests his forehead against mine, closes his eyes, and simply murmurs, “We did it.”
“Do you feel any different?” Kiernan asks as we break apart and make our way out of the Throne Room, our now golden-threaded hands once again entwined.
“Not really. You?”
“Nothing’s changed—except for this gnawing, bone-deep ache to get you to that cottage, alone. If we don’t go soon, I can’t promise I’ll stay civilised.” He laughs.
We make our way out into the soft late afternoon light, strolling towards the cottage. A few Fae we pass nod and call out their congratulations.
It’s located just past the Western Pasture, and I grow quiet as we near it. I haven’t seen or spoken to Heller since he asked me to run away with him, which I feel guilty about, though he will know by now that I am married. I had no words that would ease the pain my rejection had caused him when I had fled him that day, and I found it easier to just avoid him, coward that I am. I promise myself to try and repair that friendship that had come to mean so much to me over the years.
As we pass the stables, he is there, leaning on a broom in the doorway. He simply nods, then he drops his gaze and walks further into the barn.
The cottage is now just up ahead, the small dark stone building sitting in the shadows of the soaring perimeter wall. Kiernan unlocks the door with a key from his pocket and gestures for me to enter.
“Mrs Steel?” He gestures towards the door, a wide, wickedly glinting grin lighting up his face.
“My pleasure, Mr Steel.” I smile as I pass into the low-lit room beyond.
I’m in a lounge area, the small room dominated by a large fireplace. The room is simply decorated with a small sofa heaped with cushions and blankets, a small square table and chairs sit at the back, and a long sideboard sits against the wall by the door, a large vase full of golden flowers upon it. A single door leads out of the lounge, and when I open it, the room beyond holds just a large four-poster bed, the panels draped in golden fabric.
As I have explored, Kiernan has lit the fire and I notice fresh fruit, a loaf of bread, cheese, and a carafe of Fae Wine with two glasses on the table. My belly groans, not having realised how hungry I was.
“Eat, you’re going to need it.” Kiernan gestures to a chair, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.
I settle into the seat, my pulse quickening at his words. “Need it for what, exactly?”
He pours wine into both glasses, his movements deliberate. “It’s been a long day. And I heard your stomach growling from across the room.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I didn’t realise I was that hungry.” I reach for a piece of bread, tearing it slowly. “I suppose I’ve been … distracted.”
“And now?” He sits across from me, his gaze steady.
“Now it’s just us.” The words hang between us, heavy with meaning.
We eat in silence for a moment, but it’s different from the comfortable quiet we’ve shared before. This silence hums with anticipation, with the weight of what comes next. Every glance feels charged, every accidental brush of fingers as we reach for the same piece of fruit sends heat racing through me.
When he finishes, he rises and removes his robe jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. He throws the cushions and blankets from the sofa onto the floor in front of the fire and sits down. I rise to join him, warming myself on the flames as I pass. I need to get this dress off soon, its sweeping skirt too cumbersome in this small space. As I want to join Kiernan on the sofa, he holds his hand up. He sinks back into it, both his arms draped across the back.
“Wait”—he grins with a wicked glint in his eyes “—though I find that dress spectacular, it would look infinitely better on the floor.”
I look at him confused until he gestures to the dress and then the floor.
“What, here?” I ask, smirking when I realise what he’s hinting at.
“We are alone, and I want to enjoy my wife in all her newlywed glory.”
His wife.
A tingle of longing runs through me, and the intricate golden swirls on my hand flare, sending a burst of heightened emotions after it and another feeling that twines with my own.
Kiernan raises his hand, staring at it in wonder.
