His eyes flicked her way, returned to the man beside him, then snapped back. He sat up straight.
The papers spilled from her hands and drifted across the floor.
“Thea!” Elia scolded in a whisper. She bent to snatch the papers from the rug, her face pinched with distress.
Thea couldn't make herself move. What should she say? Whatcouldshe say? Every thought whirled away the moment she tried to grasp it, like maple seeds twirling in the wind.
Slowly, Gaius rose.
“Say something,” Elia cried at her back, the words scarcely more than a breath.
Thea unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “You said if I had need, to let Rilion know.”
Elia froze with her hand on a paper.
“Rilion couldn't help me.” Her eyes prickled, but she drew a deep breath. She would not crumble now. “I need you.”
He descended from the throne with long, sure strides and swept her into his arms.
“I dared not hope,” he whispered beside her ear. She'd heard him say it before, but not like this, not with her face buried in his neck and his hands tangled in her hair, his breath but a catch in his chest. “After all I've done, after how badly I've wronged you, how could I ask—”
“You never had to ask,” she said. “I'm yours.”
Gaius took her face in both hands and kissed her so hard, she thought he might never let go again. She rose on tip-toe to meet him, sliding her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck until she could cradle the back of his head.
“Marry me,” he gasped when they parted.
She leaned up so her answer brushed his lips. “I already did.” Her hand went to the bag she'd had no time to remove. She found the paper she was looking for and pulled it free. “You signed your real name? Truly?”
A single laugh escaped his throat. “Honestly, who would have believed?” He glanced down at the paper as she held it out, then leaned back to let his eyes travel farther. “Where are your shoes?”
“In my shop. Which is still burdened by improper taxes, I'll have you know.”
“By the Light, that still hasn't been fixed?” His eyes darkened like thunderheads, like the storm of him that had drawn her in and left her dizzy, consumed her and yet made her whole. “Let it be known, my wife is not to be taxed!”
Thea laughed as he crumpled the license between their hands to lace his fingers with hers.
Elia and a dozen courtiers stood around them, mouths agape in varying degrees of confusion.
“Thea,” her cousin said slowly, eyes drifting between her and the king. “What is going on?”
Madness, part of her thought, though the best kind, the sort that drove one to the sort of reckless and magnificent behavior that had come to dominate her life.
Love.
She drew back a step, but Gaius kept an arm around her, as if he'd never let go. Maybe he wouldn't.
Thea cleared her throat and offered a smile as she presented the man beside her. “Elia, I'd like you to meet my husband.”
Gaius flashed her a smile. “Charmed.”
