From the instant sunlight touches my face and I inhale the scent of earth and pine, I feel more myself. I urge Bracken on, unleashing him the moment we clear the gates. I won’t stray far, there’s not enough time for that. I am not running from anything, just taking a moment to reunite with myself.
Summer heat gives way to cool shade as I slow under the canopy. Wind rustles branches, and it sounds like a welcome meant only for me. Caerhollan is my home, I mean every word of the oath I swear to it. I remind myself Caerhollan is more than just the High Hold. It is all of the land here. Every towering stony peak, each lush green valley. The ruins of towns forgotten by time and the ever-changing flow of every stream. I let it hold me. All of it.
High atop a ridge, I look out. The palace looms on the face of the stone wall, spreading across, peering in and out of the mountain itself. I look to the west. To the lands far beyond. Whole kingdoms waiting. I wonder when I might see them.
I continue my ride, marveling at the beauty all around me and feeling the sure stride of Bracken’s pace underneath me. I give recognition to how much more full my life has become since I first met a stranger by a creek almost a year ago. I am no longer that girl in the woods. I am no longer hiding away. Not in a cave, nor a cottage, or even within myself.
I give a quick flick of the reins and prompt Bracken forward with increasing speed. Toward the High Hold, to my future, to my home.
I feel renewed as I make my way back to my chambers. Sweat still clings to my skin from the vigorous ride. A sharpness in my lungs from the fresh air that reminds me how alive I am. My chamber is quiet, the evening sun still bright across the room. It’s quiet, but telltale signs show only recently so. The bath is drawn, waiting for me. Slick with oils, jasmine petals along with the iridescent hues floating across the surface. I undress and sink in, feeling my body relax and let go at the heat and calming aroma. Soria returns, but my quiet is not shattered, though. Her presence no longer an intrusion, I am more free to honor the traditions she carries me through. She burns a bundle of herbs as I soak, the smoke curling into ribbons through the air. A cleansing of mind, body, and soul.
She hums a sweet melody as she runs the brush through my hair. The summer breeze slips through the open windows, coaxing each strand dry until it settles in soft, glimmering waves against my skin.
I slip into the ivy-green gown. So much like the one I wore the first night I sat beside him in front of the court. I think back on how it evoked the forest that night and how pained I was at having to leave it. This lighter vibrant green looks so much like the glow of the valleys I saw on today’s ride. I may have left one home, but I have found another. More than walls to call my own, I had found belonging.
Soria ties the ribbon at my waist with care, adjusting the gown so it drapes elegantly across me. “Remember,” she says, voice low and sure, “a queen does not become one at the altar. She becomes one in how she walks toward it.”
I smile, fighting back tears, and give her a deep hug. She stiffens at first, but I don’t let go. Her arms wrap around mine, and in that moment I know: we are family.
The door opens tentatively, and we pull apart. “I’m not interrupting, am I?” Vale’s voice rumbles.
“We both know a king can’t interrupt even if he tried,” Soria says with a laugh. It’s the type of casual banter that would only be allowed from someone considered kin. We may not be blood, but our bond is just as true.
My heart soars at everything I have found here.
Soria busies herself, picking up items, placing them where needed.Readying for tomorrow and giving Vale and I the pretense of privacy. “I have a surprise for you,” the low gravel in his voice making me wonder if we ought to be truly alone.
He extends his arm and leads me to the stairs. We do not descend but rather climb up to the same turret where he first showed me all of Caerhollan and offered it as my home if I should so choose. Opening the door and entering into the evening air, a man stands waiting. Dark robes hang low down to his feet, and he holds a book in his hands. I look at him, then back at Vale.
“Mira, tomorrow we will vow before all of Caerhollan and pledge our love as man and wife. You will take your oath as queen.” He shifts, looking out into the evening sky rich with crimson and orange hues, night moving in on us. He breathes it in, then turns back to me. “That is for them. Let’s make this—tonight—just for us. Mira, here beneath the stars, with no court watching, with no pomp—will you marry me?” My heart flutters, and joy surges within me.
“I can think of nothing I want more,” sincere truth in my reply.
There, with the sun setting and the moon rising high in the sky, we exchanged our vows. Without the grandeur of court, two lives are bound in promise, in flame.
Speaking the only words that matter, we became man and wife. A promise sealed long before the world would witness. Quietly. Privately. Irrevocably.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Clouds linger low and lazy, shading the morning sun just enough to hold everything in a dim grey glow. Quiet, peaceful. Fitting.
The vibrant colors of a clear bright morning would be too overpowering. I know the sun will shine, and the day will be a rainbow of life and love, but right now this… this is perfect.
Vale stirs beside me, not wanting to end the magic of the night before. The night we pledged ourselves to each other amongst the stars for only the gods to bear witness to. I couldn’t have asked for a better moment. As much as part of me may have wanted Soria and Ace there as well, there was something particularly sacred in the way it was only us and the pious man sealing our bond that reflected just how true our love is. I sink back down into the bed, into Vale’s arms. They wrap around me, the scruff across his neck teasing at the bare skin of my shoulder.
He lets out a low, sleepy groan. “We are far from traditional, but I will never hear the end of it if Soria finds me here before the wedding.” With a laugh and a groan, he squeezes his arms tightly around me one last time before rising.
The sheet is cool against my skin as it shifts with his movement. The stillness of the morning is all too fleeting. I remind myselfthat it’s only a day. I don’t feel nervous. I look back from the ring on my hand to the man now quietly dressing in the low light, and the peace I most cherish lies within my own heart. “You best not leave without kissing me goodbye, husband.” I’m unable to contain the delight I feel at saying that last word.
“I would never do such a thing, my wife,” he replies in kind. Sauntering over to the bed, Vale leans low, and kisses me as though I am the only thing in the world that matters. And in his eyes, I feel it just might be true.
I flop back on the bed, shaking my shoulders and kicking my feet, giddy with excitement the moment the door shuts. Not at the wedding. I am far more overwhelmed than excited for the impending spectacle. But because I am his wife. We are married. No matter what happens today, nothing can take that away.
I let my body collapse, arms now wide at my sides, filling the whole bed. I breathe in the scent of him still lingering on the sheets; my head rolls from side to side as I indulge in this last moment of calm before the storm.
The clouds begin to part, yellow streaks growing more brilliant by the minute reach across the walls. The sun is shining, and with it, so too shall I.
My pulse quickens with each passing hour. The flurry of attendants coming and going, seeing to every detail of my preparation, adding to the rush. I begin to play tricks on my mind. This flutter, it’s normal. How I let my mind view it, though, nervousness and fear or excitement and joy, that is up to me.
