“And now, I ask—will you allow me, each morning, to rise and chase your heart again?”
Tears slipped from her eyes, but her luminous smile held. “I will.”
At Saecily’s quiet bidding, Amerei lifted the ring and slid it onto his hand, her eyes bright as moonlight on water.
“High-Captain Seraphim,” she said, voice like rain on gentle seas.
“For this moment, I lay down my crown—not as royalty, but as the woman who loves you. I offer you my whole self, body and spirit, that you may know me in all ways hidden by my title.”
Her gaze lifted, tear-bright.
“I vow this—your hands will be the only ones to ever claim me, your name the only one I’ll ever bear. I am yours, Viktor. Entirely, irreversibly, eternally. Will you let me be the one to carry your heart, as you carry mine?”
“I will.” The vow seared through him—heat and frost at once—branding deeper than flame could ever reach.
Saecily tied the braid over their joined hands, her voice full of quiet triumph.
“And so the binding is made.”
She closed the book with a soft finality and lifted her gaze to the witnesses.
“By the right of Casqadia’s crown, and under the ancient handfast of Aerdania, I name the Line of Seraphim. Not born, but chosen. Not given, but vowed. Not bound by blood, but by courage. Let all who bear witness know—Casqadia rises with them.”
She turned to Viktor, laid a hand upon his shoulder, and smiled.
“Seal the vow.”
His hands rose to cradle Amerei’s face, holding her as if she were flame itself—dangerous, precious, eternal. For a heartbeat, the world went still—breath misting between them, light trembling through the vines.
Then he kissed her.
His lips met hers like fire meeting snowfall—fierce and melting, consuming and calm. Her hands found his chest, his neck, his hair, drawing him down into the breathless wonder of her.
Cheers erupted—from the garden to the castle gate—but Viktor heard none of it.
Amerei smiled against his mouth, and in that single, shattered moment, he knew…
At last, his soul was home.
As her sigh faded into his chest, a soft breeze stirred the vines above them. The hush that had held the crowd broke like mist dissolving in a sun-warmed glade. Laughter caught like kindling among the guests as solemn silence gave way to light.
Juliet reached them first. She folded Amerei into her arms, holding her tight, then looked up at Viktor with eyes shining. “Your children will be beautiful,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
And somehow, he glimpsed it—a flicker of their future carried in Amerei’s smile.
Line of Seraphim.
His chest swelled, Endowment and vow alike burning steady in his veins.
Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder, leaning close with a crooked grin. “You aimed higher than the stars, brother. And storm take me—you still hit your mark.”
Amerei’s lips curved, her gaze lowering as color touched her cheeks.
Saecily followed, tugging lightly on the braid that still bound their hands.
“Knotted tight,” she said, pride sparking in her tone. “Just the way it should be.”
Storne came behind her, his smirk wry. “Best open the cellar.”
