Page 120 of On Brutal Thrones

The sound settles something inside me.

I reach for her hand.

Then, inexplicably, I get nervous.

My palm is suddenly damp against hers. My heart beats harder. I've faced monsters. I've gone berserk and charged into fights with absolutely no plan beyond hit it until it stops moving.

But this? This scares me. Because this matters.

“There can be a lot more to the ceremony,” I explain, rubbing my thumb over Nyx’s knuckles. “But there’s one promise that always has to be made. You tell the person the worst thing you’ll love them through.”

Nyx’s brow furrows. “Like sickness and health?”

“More specific.”

Her expression changes.

I smile because I can already see her realizing how uncomfortable this is about to get.

“It's not supposed to be easy. You're promising that your love isn't only for the best version of them. It's for the person they are when they're frightened or angry or lost. Even if they hurt you. Even if they become someone you don't recognize for a while.”

The words bring memories with them. My clan. My family. People who had so little that sometimes the only thing they could offer one another was the promise that they wouldn't leave.

That's what marriage means to my people.

You don't have to be perfect for me to stay.

I look around our little camp, suddenly realizing we're all still sitting together beside the fire like we're discussing what to have for dinner.

“No, no. We have to do this properly.”

Talon lifts an eyebrow. “I thought none of us knew how to do this properly.”

“I know this part.” I climb to my feet and brush dirt from my pants, my pulse already starting to race. “Nyx, you stand there.”

I point to the other side of the fire.

She stares at me. “You're very commanding all of a sudden.”

“I'm the only one here who's even remotely qualified.”

“You've never been to a wedding,” Thorian reminds me.

“I know about weddings. That's enough.”

Talon snorts, but Nyx is smiling when she rises.

She moves to the place I indicated, smoothing her hands over her clothes before turning to face us. The fire burns between us, bathing her in a soft golden light. Her hair is still damp from the river, and there are no flowers woven through it, no fine dress covering her body, no jewels glittering at her throat.

She is still the most beautiful bride I've ever seen… Granted, she's the only bride I've ever seen. But I'm confident she'd win any contest.

Thorian and Talon stand beside me. The three of us fall naturally into a line facing her, and as soon as we do, the last traces of humor fade from me.

There. That's different. That's a wedding. The realization makes my heart thump hard against my ribs.

I look at the two people beside me and then at the woman waiting across from us. The fire crackles near us, sending sparks twisting toward a sky crowded with stars. Wind moves softly through the trees around us, carrying the smells of pine, earth, smoke, and the river below.

There are no musicians. No flowers. No feast waiting for us afterward. There are no guests either. Just us.