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Then Valerie leans into my side.

The choice eases something that has been wound tight inside me since last night. My tentacle shifts lower around her waist, settling there without drawing her any closer than she has chosen to come.

Valerie watches the last embers circle the altar. “It really is beautiful. The magic doesn’t look frightening at all.”

“Magic is only terrifying when the person wielding it gives you reason to fear it,” I reply, glancing at my friend. Rakan has barely taken his eyes off Iris since the ritual began. “Rakan is devoted. That makes it safe.”

Valerie turns her face toward me. “Are you safe, Sigurd?”

Yesterday changed something between us, even if I still do not know what Maren said to cause it. The fact that Valerie is asking me now matters more than I want it to.

“With you? Always.”

Some of the caution leaves her face. She turns back toward the altar and remains against me, with my tentacle still curved around her waist.

The courtyard erupts into applause when Rakan bends to kiss his bride. The remaining embers burst above them and drift across the guests in a harmless shower of sparks. Valerie stays beside me through all of it.

Watching Rakan and Iris makes the temporary nature of my arrangement with Valerie harder to tolerate. I promised to protect Saltweather, but delaying Lotan only leaves the threat waiting for another opportunity.

He needs somewhere else to go. One of the disputed basins could give him that if the water were warm enough. I know those territories, and Rakan has the power to make the change possible.

The ceremony ends, and the rows of guests begin to break apart. Conversation swells across the courtyard as everyone moves toward the banquet hall. I guide Valerie through the crowd until I find Camille near one of the archways.

She is arguing with a waiter over a missing tray of champagne flutes. The man spots us, mutters something about checking the kitchens, and disappears before Camille can stop him.

“Coward,” she says under her breath, and then gives us her attention.

“I need a private word with Rakan before the feast begins,” I tell her. “Can Valerie stay with you for a few minutes?”

“Of course she can.” Camille glances toward the banquet hall, where several members of the floral staff are carrying arrangements inside. “I will guard her with my life. Unless the florists mess up the anemones, in which case she is on her own.”

The smile that escapes Valerie is enough to make leaving her slightly easier. I let my tentacle slip from her waist and immediately notice the absence of her warmth.

“I won’t be long,” I tell her. “There is something I need to discuss with Rakan before everyone disappears into the feast.”

“You said something similar yesterday, and I survived that too.” Valerie gestures toward Camille. “Go. I seem to have acquired professional supervision.”

I head back toward the altar before Rakan gets buried beneath another round of congratulations.

He has just finished speaking with two elderly djinn when I catch his eye. Rakan watches them leave, and then gives me the resigned look of a man who has known me long enough to recognize trouble from a distance.

“Sigurd, I have been married for less than ten minutes, and my wife still does not have a drink. Please tell me you’re not about to make that my second-largest problem.”

“I need your help with Lotan.” I keep my voice low enough that the passing guests cannot hear us. “I need you to warm a section of the ocean, Rakan. I need to offer Lotan an alternative to Valerie’s town.”

The heat radiating from him intensifies. Crimson flashes through the gold fire beneath his skin as the scale of the request settles between us.

“Heat the ocean?” he repeats in disbelief. “I never thought I’d say this, but that is a difficult wish to fulfill.”

“I know how much I am asking.” There is no point pretending otherwise, especially with him. “You know why I was in that trench, Rakan. I went there to get Kasim’s lamp.”

The mention of his brother stills him. I hate bringing Kasim into this, but the history belongs to both of us, and neither of us has ever pretended otherwise.

“I never wanted it to get to this point, and I don’t blame you for what happened,” I continue. “Lotan and the clans were already at war. The ocean was fracturing before I ever crossed the boundary. But as things stand, we have no choice.”

Rakan listens without interrupting. The heat around us begins to recede as I give him the part that matters most.

“My mother decided to pacify Lotan by giving him Valerie’s city. I won’t allow her to pay the price for our mess.”