Page 299 of Vexatious Queen

“We gather here today,” he said, voice carrying across the gardens. “Not to bind love that already exists, but to honor it. Handfasting is an ancient rite. It is a promise freely given, not owned. A vow made in trust, not fear.”

The officiant turned to Ren and the guys.

“Do you come here of your own will, to join your lives, your paths, and your futures?”

“We do,” they answered, voices overlapping.

One by one, the men made their vows.

Myles swallowed hard before speaking.

“Snowflake, ya make the world softer and brighter all at once. I promise to love ya with laughter, wi tenderness, and wit every piece of myself.”

Liam’s voice was unwavering.

“Ren, I vow to be your shelter and your mirror. To give you truth when you need it, and peace when all you yearn for is a steady hand and rest.”

Theo smiled at Ren, eyes bright.

“Ren, you have challenged me from the first day we met. I promise to choose you every day, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. And I promise to push you to be the best, but allow you the safety to fail.”

Blake’s voice was quieter, but no less powerful.

“Ren…you saved me just by being yourself. I promise never to forget that love is something we build, not something we take. I vow to always honor you with my heart and soul open and to share even when it’s difficult.”

Nash went last.

“Princess…you are my home, my Queen, my everything,” he said simply. “I will protect you always and stand beside you for as long as I draw breath. For there is no me, without you.”

The officiant turned to Ren.

“Lilya Ren Genovese, it is your turn.”

She smiled, and strands of her white hair blew around her like the wind was giving her a blessing.

“I don’t stand here choosing between you. I stand here choosing us. Six different hearts, one life. You are my shelter and my fire, my calm and my chaos. With all of you, I don’t fear the future. I claim it. Whatever comes next, we face it together. I vow to love you always. I choose you.”

Yuliana squeezed my hand and offered me a tissue. I smiled as I took it and wiped away the tears that fell, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.

The cords were wrapped around their joined hands.

“As these hands are bound together,” the officiant said, “so too are your lives entwined. Not as chains, but as roots. What you give today is not ownership, but devotion.”

He tightened the knot gently.

“By earth that sustains you, by fire that strengthens you, by air that carries your vows, and by water that binds your souls—I pronounce you handfasted.”

The garden erupted in cheers.

Laughter, applause, and joy spilled into the open air as music swelled and the moment broke into celebration. Ren was pulled into a tangle of arms and kisses, happiness written into every line of her body.

I leaned back, Yuliana’s hand still in mine, and let myself breathe.

For the first time in a long time, the future did not feel like a battlefield.

It felt like legacy.

My daughter was loved, protected, and she had chosen the life she wanted, not the one forced upon her. She would lead with strength that had been forged in fire, not inherited.