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They exchanged gifts. They let Faith rip into wrapping paper and make a mess, while the gifts they exchanged with each other were given more thoughtfully and responded to in kind.

They talked to each other. They clearly enjoyed each other. They ate sweet rolls and crispy bacon that Gerald claimed was his specialty. Vesuvius even pitched in, frying up some eggs after Aeryn told them all that he couldn’t.

Eggs were, in fact, the only things he could cook.

Later on, when Faith was crashed out in the armchair, sound asleep—or possibly in a coma from all the sugar—everyone else was sitting quietly, listening to a bit of music, looking at the Christmas presents that were mostly books, and still talking.

Vesuvius stood.

And he wondered if he would spend the rest of his time in this life getting attention simply because he still stood like a king. He supposed he would have to wait and see.

But today, he capitalized on it.

He went over to where Aeryn was sitting on one end of the sofa, with her parents on the other two cushions. And he knelt down before her, not caring one bit that her parents were there. He was glad they were. He didn’t want anything that could be interpreted as secret.

“I could have done this when we were alone,” he told her, very seriously. “But I wanted to make it clear. I have never been embarrassed by you, felt the need to hide you, or was ashamed of anything at all involving you, unless it is my behavior over the past five years.”

Aeryn’s eyes went wide. “Vesuvius. I told you—”

“I think that you’re afraid to take a chance on me again,” he said, and he reached over to take her hands in his. He wasn’t surprised to find her trembling. “And I don’t blame you. I’m a bad bet. You gave me nothing but understanding, and I, as far as I can see, gave you nothing in return. You bent and twisted yourself around to fit my life and your reward for that was to be told that I intended to sacrifice both of us to a duty that I hated rather than let myself love you. But it didn’t work.”

He heard a soft sound, but all of his attention was focused on Aeryn. On how wide her eyes were. On the critical fact that she hadn’t pulled away. She was still gazing at him, and he was sure that he could see the glint of hope in all of that green.

Or he hoped like hell he did.

“I tried to think of a way that I could apologize for all of it. For all of this heartache. For hiding you away as if you were something to be embarrassed about when you were the only good thing in my life, for years. I tried to imagine how I could possibly begin to make up for watching you leave me, pregnant with my baby, and fully intending to let both of you live without me, forever. I’m disgusted, Aeryn. Horrified. And I imagine that there’s truly not anything that can make up for any of that.”

He held her hands tighter.

“Vesuvius…” she whispered.

But that also wasn’t pulling away.

“The only thing I can do is try to prove myself to you,” he told her, making sure that his voice was coming from the very depths of him. “Not as a king. But as the man I should have been for you, from the start. A man who would never leave you, nor make you leave me. A man who will always put you first. Who will never choose anything over you. What I can promise you is that I will do my best to be that man. If you give me a chance, I will spend the rest of my life trying to live up to the idea of me you had in your head before I ruined it.”

Vesuvius reached down into his pocket, and he pulled out the ring box he had stuck deep in his coat last night when he had staggered out from that plane into the snow. The ring that he had carried there against his heart all the way from Liandero.

He cracked it open, and watched the tears overflow from Aeryn’s gorgeous eyes.

“This was my mother’s,” he told her. “It never belonged to the crown. Its only connection to royalty is her blood and mine. She wore it every day and when I was a small boy, she let me move it back and forth on her hand, to catch the light.”

He showed her as he held it out to her, letting the exquisite diamond catch the light and toss it where it liked.

And then he held her gaze once more. “And Aeryn—you, to me, are that light. I found you in the gallery that was built in her honor, so that feels like a sign. And then I found you here, across the world from my home, through a storm and with a head injury. I believe that I would find you anywhere. There is no darkness, even inside me, that can keep out the light that pours out of you.”

The tears tracked down her cheeks, but he kept going.

“You are a beacon,” he told her. “You are, in every way, my North Star. I don’t deserve you. I can never hope to. But I will spend my life and my every waking breath making certain that no matter what happens, no matter the twists and turns that might come, the one thing you can always depend upon is me.”

She whispered his name again. She swallowed, and he thought she might speak—but when she couldn’t form words, he kept going.

“Aeryn, when I tell you I love you, I want you to know that I mean that with every last part of me. I have always loved you. From the first moment I saw you. I loved you when we were together and I loved you when we were apart. There has never been a day since we met that I have not thought of you constantly, and I cannot imagine there will ever come a time when you are not my first thought upon waking, my last thought as I drift off to sleep, and every dream in between.”

“You know I love you,” she managed to say then. “That’s not the problem.”

“You gave me a beautiful daughter, and even when I tried to keep myself apart from her, you gave me permission to see her anyway. And look at her.” He looked back over his shoulder to where their daughter slept, her cheeks flushed with the force of the breaths she took. “She’s perfect.”

“She is perfect,” Aeryn agreed.