“I’m the one who said fuck it,” I whispered back.
A faint smile cracked through his sorrow. His brows fell, and his eyes darted around. He looked more than upset—he was worried.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Reese only shook his head in response. His hand fell to his rapier and curled around its hilt.
A man in white passed us, and I shrank back against my seat. He was a Solheart priest—clad in all white, decorated with agolden sash and crowned with an elaborate headdress meant to resemble the sun.
Never in my life had the sight of a priest made me want to curl up and hide. Now I knew what Liam felt like.
Gasping, I whirled around, searching the growing crowd. Reese touched my wrist gently. “He’s fine.” He nodded toward the guest tower.
Relieved, I collapsed into my seat.
It was going to be a long day.
Chiming bells announced the arrival of the royal procession. Flanked by a dozen guards and Solheart lords, the Queen strolled down the aisle, pale eyes turned toward us.
Reese hastily looked away from her. The Queen’s gaze lingered on him, filled not just with pining and affection but . . .
Reverence? She wore the countenance of a pious woman who knelt before the altar of their god. I leaned toward Reese with a question on my lips, but the priest on the stage motioned for silence.
The ceremony was beginning.
Brighid had warned me the ritual would take ages to conclude. The bride and groom’s families walked in pairs down the aisle—Lord Sorley’s side dressed in all white, while the Astartus family wore burgundy red.
I stared at every one of them with barely concealed contempt. Brighid’s mother, a meek little thing compared to her husband, was every bit the villain her father was, in my eyes.
To say nothing of the wretched Solhearts. Reese glared at Sorley as he ascended the stage and bowed to the priest. His fingers strangled the rapier’s hilt.
Shifting closer, I laid my hand on his—just long enough for him to breathe and release his weapon.
I pulled my hand away, but he caught it and pulled it back. Twining his fingers through mine, he hid our linked hands under his cape.
My heart thudded. Swallowing, I turned back toward the stage and noticed Paragon Agendra staring at us, sharp topaz eyes narrowed.
He’d noticed our nerves—his hand moved to rest on his hammer.
The bride ascended to the ceremony stage last. Brighid looked like a piece of heaven—for a man who deserved only hell.
Her long, ruby gown trailed behind her on the grass. Bláth walked behind her, dressed in a plain black gown, holding the wedding train.
A brilliant feather stuck out from Brighid’s curls, pointing up toward the sky, though her veil plunged to the ground.
Lord Sorley took her hands in his and led her to the arch. The priest bound their wrists together with a silk rope. Brighid’s throat bobbed.
A jolt of heat rushed through my side, and I turned to Reese in surprise. Cleiv Solais shone, twisting shades from gold to red.
I needn’t ask—the shock on Reese’s face told me this had never happened before.
Then, it stopped. The red hue vanished and faded to gentle gold.
Agendra leaned forward, eyebrows knit together. Diar noticed as well, eyes darting questioningly between us.
Reese shook his head and turned back to the ceremony.
The priest was halfway through his prayer, hands clasped together, head bowed. “ . . . may serve your husband faithfully, until you return to bask in the glow of the Light Beyond.”
