“Good. You are learning.”
The thin humor kept them from shaking.
Lucien touched his forehead to hers.
“I will listen for you.”
“Then answer when I do.”
He kissed her once.
Not long.
Not hungry.
A kiss that felt like a promise neither of them was willing to say aloud.
When he pulled back, his hands were steady on her face.
“At the break point, do not hesitate.”
“I will not.”
“Even if the room fights us.”
“Even then.”
He released her and stepped back.
For a moment, they simply looked at each other.
Then the bells began.
The sound changed everything.
Deep.
Resonant.
The first bell marking formal escort to the Vow Chamber.
Lysa opened the door.
Temple attendants waited in the corridor, dressed in black ceremonial robes, faces hidden beneath hoods.
Sabine’s pulse hammered.
Lucien was taken by a separate passage to the prince’s mark inside the chamber.
That last separation felt deliberate.
Cruel.
Useful to the rite.
It wanted her walking the final stretch alone.
Serast’s voice echoed from somewhere ahead.
