Eternal Oath
Lio stepped into theantechamber with a comb still attached to his hair and Hoyefe holding the other end of it. All the congratulatory cups the guests had brought were arranged on an enormous table. In the center of the dazzling array, a velvet-draped pedestal waited for the avowal cup.
“Don’t you dare drop it,” Tendo threatened.
“The spell is complete,” Lio breathed. “It’s too powerful an artifact for a mere drop to break the glass now.”
The weight of his uncle’s hand rested on his shoulder. “This is a creation to be proud of.”
Hoping Cassia would agree, Lio set their chalice on its stand. Reaching under his collar, he broke the seal on Cassia’s braid, which had not left his neck since she had put it on him. He coiled her hair inside the cup, along with his own Grace braid, which she had entrusted to him earlier that night.
“Now hold still,” Hoyefe commanded, reaching for the other side of Lio’s head. “And be less tall.”
Lio stooped to make his friend’s work easier. Callen reached in with a rag to wipe the blood from Lio’s forehead.
“Hespera’s Mercy,” Lio said, “did I get blood on my avowal robe?”
His uncle chuckled. “No, but it wouldn’t be the first time an avowal robe was bloodstained before, during—or especially after—the ceremony.”
Behind Uncle Argyros, Lyros gave Mak a sly look. Mak blushed.
Hoyefe motioned for Lio to turn.
Lio obeyed. “Do I meet the standards of Lord Hoyefe of the Owia, alumnus of Imperial University’s School of Fine Arts, Theater Department?”
“You’re not the only artist who did some of the finest work of his career tonight.” Hoyefe dusted his nails across his shoulder. “You’re too pretty to live.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Lio said.
“You may thank me by introducing Severin and me to every unavowed Hesperine guest at your ceremony. Since I dashingly rescued him in Tenebra, my shy darling has become quite the rebel. He’s finally ready to invite someone to join our romantic adventures.”
Lio grinned. “You won’t be alone tonight, Lonesome. We’ll ensure you two have the finest company.”
Tendo, now in his own royal Sandira finery, looked Lio up and down.
“Well,” Lio asked him, “do you deem me worthy to make my vows to one of the two most dangerous sisters ever to reach Orthros or the Empire’s shores?”
Tendo’s mouth tilted in a smile. “You’re equal to her.”
Lio considered the likelihood that Tendo would break his nose moments before the ceremony and deemed it low for Cassia’s sake, if not his own. So he decided it was safe to speak his mind. If there was ever a time to do so, it was tonight.
Lio clasped Tendo’s arm and pulled him in, saying in his ear, “Cassia and I may be first, but you and Solia are next. Don’t think we’ll ever give up hope of having you as a brother-in-law.”
Tendo swore at him, but didn’t punch him. And there was definitely a smile in his eyes.
The antechamber door opened, and Rudhira entered, dressed in his full formal red silks. But Lio glimpsed Tenebran riding boots hidden under the hem of the prince’s robe, and there was still a whiff of adamas and castle stone about him.
“You made it,” Lio said with relief.
Rudhira grinned, his fangs out. “I would never miss my Ritual son’s avowal. The war mages will live another hour while we get you braided up.”
“In truth, I wouldn’t blame you if you preferred battle to avowals.” How his Ritual father must struggle every time he watched another youngblood find their Grace, when he had been waiting sixteen hundred years for his.
Rudhira’s aura gentled, and he shook his head. “Tonight, there is nowhere I would rather be.”
“What about Nike?” Mak asked.
“Every Steward is here, too,” Rudhira answered. “The Charge is holding down the border until after the ceremony.”
“Then we’re ready.” Mak shoved Lio toward the door. “Let’s get you to the Ritual circle!”
The truth sank in all at once. Everyone was here. Lio hadn’t ruined the ceremony. No necromancers or war mages or deposed kings were going to prevent it.
“I’m avowing Cassia tonight. Goddess bless. I’m avowing Cassia. Right now.”
Lyros looked at his Grace, his gaze softening. “Here’s our official advice. Enjoy every minute of it. The worst is about to get easier, and the best is yet to come.”
Mak took Lyros’s arm. “Don’t you ever claim I’m the only romantic one.”
As Lio Willed the door open and entered the Ritual hall, Cassia’s anticipation simmered in their Union.
Outside the main entranceto the Ritual hall, Cassia stood alone, as was tradition.
Lio touched her mind. The entire wondrous night seemed to pause, and they held their breath together.
It’s time, he said.
You’re ready?
I’ve been ready since the moment I met you. Do you, Firstgrace Cassia, want this for yourself?
At that echo of his words from their first dance, from his first bite, she smiled. More than I have ever wanted anything.
Come to me, my Grace.
The double doors swung open to the splendor of the Ritual hall. White spell lights and roses in full bloom levitated in the air above her path. A chant in the Divine Tongue drifted down from the clerestory. That hymn had been sung for thousands of years in Hagia Boreia, the Great Temple of Hespera where Anastasios’s bloodline had begun.
To demonstrate to all that she came to her Grace of her own free Will, Cassia walked forward on her own, escorted by no one but the Goddess in her blood.
Seeing the Whiteblood guests just inside, Cassia could scarcely believe how many were here as her family. Perita and Callen, her Tenebran confidants. Kella and the Ashes, her mercenary family, with their matriarch Ukocha, her daughter Chuma, and husband Mumba. And one winged prince Cassia would always consider her brother, no matter what his future held.
Her sister stood in front with Knight, a wreath of white silk and roses around his shaggy neck. With tears flowing freely down her cheeks, Solia was the first to stand aside and clear Cassia’s path toward Lio. The others followed, a demonstration of support. Of surrender, giving Cassia over to her eternal bloodline.
They murmured a farewell blessing to her in half a dozen languages. “May the Eye of Light reveal your path to your Grace.”
Cassia proceeded between them to meet the Redbloods. Her Hesperines. Relatives and tributaries of Blood Komnena had gathered under twinkling red spell lights and floating Roses of Hespera. Even solitary Kalos had braved the crowd, standing among the guests up in the gallery under her accidental skylight.
As she walked forward, the crowd of immortals parted like a crimson sea, their power washing over her. Their welcome blessing echoed through the hall in Divine in their eternal voices. “May the Eye of Blood sustain your journey with your Grace.”
Between the shifting Hesperine guests, she caught sight of the black roses. The vines were as wild as she had left them. But now a new border circled them, built of marble she recognized as former chunks of the floor. Apollon had turned the damage into a flower bed, reshaping the stones not to hide her roses but to draw attention to them.
Their closest friends and family lined her final way. Alkaios murmured something to Bosko, while Nephalea’s hands rested on Zoe’s slim shoulders, reminding Cassia of how the two Hesperines errant had protected her as a child. Zoe looked like the most endearing little blood sorceress in her red robe, with an abundance of crimson ribbons in her hair. Cassia marched between the Graced pairs of Blood Argyros, then her Ritual parents, to be welcomed by her Grace-parents. Apollon and Komnena parted, clearing her last steps to Lio.
At last Cassia laid eyes on him. She felt as if all the spell lights in the hall took flight in her belly. The black waves of his hair were loose, ready for her braid. A ruby stud glittered on his earlobe. With his tall frame, he looked stately in his heavy crimson avowal robe, gleaming with gold.
He emanated power that called to her blood. Her Gifter. Her Grace. Could this magnificent immortal really be hers?
The look on his face left no doubt. He gazed upon her as if she were a goddess, and in that moment, she knew he would look at her this way forever.
He held out his open palm. Placing her hand in his, she joined him inside the Ritual circle.
Outside the mosaic, the first Graces were seated hand in hand. For the first time since her Gifting, Cassia beheld her Queens. Recognition sang deep in her veins. She felt the shared blood that ran from her to them, and from them back into a distant night when Hespera had touched the Ritual firstbloods and created their kind. Beside them, Princess Konstantina smiled in understanding. Together, Cassia and Lio made the heart bow to the royals, then faced each other across Hespera’s Rose and the constellation Anastasios.
Queen Alea spoke, her aura shining. “Redblood Deukalion, for what reason have you called together our people?”
“To declare that through Cassia, I have experienced Hespera’s abundance.”
“Whiteblood Cassia.” Queen Soteira’s warm voice carried through the hall. “Do you join him in this declaration of your own free Will?”
“Under the Goddess’s Eyes, I do.”
Queen Alea lifted her pale hand. “Ritual Firstblood Anastasios watches from the stars. On his behalf, let those us of who still walk this world welcome Cassia’s bloodline into his own.”
The crowd shifted. The Redblood guests made room for her Whitebloods to mingle among them, and all their loved ones stood together in one gathering.
Queen Alea squeezed Queen Soteira’s hand. “Only Graces know the joys of their bond, and yet our pain is evident to all. Redblood Deukalion, can eight witnesses attest that without Whiteblood Cassia, you will have no eternity?”
“I call forth the eight who have seen my Craving for her,” Lio answered.
“Whiteblood Cassia,” Queen Soteira asked, “can eight witnesses attest that Redblood Deukalion offers you eternity?”
Cassia echoed, “I call forth the eight who have seen my Craving for him.”
Their witnesses came forward from the crowd and proceeded down the central aisle, a festive procession despite the gravity of what they were about to describe. They stood in two half moons on either side of the Ritual circle.
Queen Alea addressed Lio’s witnesses. “As the first Redblood to receive Grace, I will hear your testimony.”
Mak made the heart bow. “Annassa, I have watched Lio make sacrifices to protect our people, and it is my honor to help him secure his happiness now. To prevent war, he returned from Tenebra without Cassia, no matter the cost to himself. He had been without her for half a year when my Grace and I saw him collapse in the gymnasium.”
Lyros continued, “We recognized his symptoms, having experienced them ourselves. After minor sparring injuries, his body wouldn’t heal. No blood, no matter how potent, could fully restore him.”
Cassia’s hand tightened on Lio’s. She hated thinking of how close he had come to starvation. She listened as their Trial sisters described his collapse before the Firstblood Circle. Then Karege, Tuura, and Hoyefe related how his Craving had later endangered him in the Maaqul Desert.
I feel no more horror at those memories, he reassured her silently. Let those wounds become part of our vows.
“Eight times has the truth been spoken,” Queen Alea concluded. “Let it be known for eternity that Deukalion’s Craving for Cassia is the Goddess’s Will.”
You’re right, Cassia said in his thoughts. Somehow, those curses have turned into this blessing.
Queen Soteira gestured to Cassia’s witnesses. “As the first Whiteblood to bring Grace to our people, I will hear your testimony.”
“Were my visions admissible as testimony,” Kassandra began, “I would tell you of the first night I met Lio’s Grace, when she was still a future dream. But I saw her in the flesh when she came to Orthros and, on the Vigil of Will, sought me out to ask for my wisdom. I helped her see the truth in herself: Craving is not merely a thirst for blood, but also a hunger in the soul. Without Lio, her spirit was dying.”
It had been one of Cassia’s darkest hours. But also the hour when she had found hope for this future that was now coming true before their eyes.
Tendo took up the story next, then Kella, relating how they had cared for Cassia during her illness when she’d been separated from Lio in the desert.
When it was Solia’s turn, her aura was full of many things—but foremost, a sense of conviction. “In my fear for my sister, I was the greatest denier of her bond with Lio. Take my change of heart as powerful evidence that their love is true. I have seen him heal Cassia. Sacrifice for her. And most of all, make her happy, in ways I never imagined possible after what she suffered in her past.”
After describing Cassia’s near death before the Empress’s Court, she gave over to Rudhira, who spoke from his experience as a healer. Cassia thought she caught a hint of tension in Tendo’s aura then, but it was gone too quickly—and her senses were too full—for her to let it worry her at a moment like this.
Once Nike and Komnena had reinforced Rudhira’s testimony, Apollon was the last to speak on Cassia’s behalf. “I have seen Cassia face her Craving for my son with the same courage as she has withstood every challenge of her life. When she collapsed in her greenhouse, I helped her to her feet. Not because she lacked the strength to walk to Lio’s side on her own. But because she deserves a father who will always lift her up, fight for her, and make her road easier whenever he can.”
Cassia couldn’t have spoken around the lump in her throat. But she didn’t need to. She sent Apollon her gratitude in the Blood Union.
“Let my words seal Cassia’s place in our bloodline,” Apollon declared. “She is my Grace-daughter.”
Queen Soteira nodded, the golden stars in her crown of dark braids clinking. “Eight times has the truth been spoken. Let it be known for eternity that Cassia’s Craving for Deukalion is the Goddess’s Will.”
“Let your avowal chalice be brought forth,” Queen Alea announced, “that you may drink from the Goddess’s Cup together for all time.”
Uncle Argyros proceeded up the aisle, his long silver braid and gleaming robes swishing softly in the breathless quiet. Holding the long-awaited cup aloft for all to admire, he joined them inside the Ritual circle.
Cassia’s breath caught. Lio, how could you have been worried about this masterpiece?
You are happy with it?
It is…mesmerizing.
Blood and light flowed through the intricate botanical designs of the chalice, as if it were a living thing. Like their bond. Real rose petals, sealed inside the crystal clear glass, seemed to float. Not only the red roses that grew over their bed and the white roses of Sanctuary. But her black roses, too.
Silvertongue’s harsh gaze was now quiet with joy as he held the cup out to them. “Bind yourselves together with immortal strands, that neither of you shall drift through eternity alone.”
Lio lifted his braid from the cup, then Cassia took hers, their fingers brushing for a charged instant.
“Shed blood for each other,” Uncle Argyros said, “that neither of you shall ever thirst.”
They lifted their wrists to their fangs, and before the bites could heal, they joined hands. Lio held Cassia’s gaze as he knit his fingers through hers, gripping her tightly so they bled into the chalice.
“Cassia,” he began, “although I am known as Glasstongue, I struggle to find words worthy of what you mean to me. But I have always given you my truest words, however imperfect, ever since we first promised we would speak openly, honestly, without judgment. The trust you placed in me that night and every night since is the greatest gift of all. Let our first Oath to each other grow into this vow: I will always be honest with you. I will always be worthy of your trust. When you speak, I will make the world listen. When you fight, I will make your cause mine. And when you long for peace, I will be your Sanctuary. My love for you is as endless as eternity, and my vein will be your abundance for all time.”
He dipped his fingertips in the chalice, then lifted his braid to her temple. The fragrance of his blood wrapped around her, and she felt his caress as he sealed the symbol of his vows to her hair.
“Lio,” she said, savoring his cherished name on her tongue. “My soothsaying power may elude me, but know that I pour all my magic and all my Will into these words. When I was trapped in a life of silence, you heard me. You listened to me. And in the safety you offered me, I found my voice. From the night we made our Oath, you showered me with gifts: your patience, your kindness, your faith in who I could become. You held me through every transformation. Now I stand before you as my true self. With this power, I will keep you safe. I will hold you through your every ordeal. I will make all our promises come true. My love for you is as endless as eternity, and my vein will be your abundance for all time.”
Their blood was warm on her fingers. She held her own braid to his hair, pouring a drop of her Will and magic and love into her touch. She felt the moment when the spell took hold, and a sense of completion filled her.
“Redblood Deukalion,” Queen Alea said, “who is Whiteblood Cassia to you?”
“Cassia is my Grace,” he said before their Queens, their family, and all their people.
“Whiteblood Cassia,” said Queen Soteira, “who is Redblood Deukalion to you?”
“Deukalion is my Grace.” The words felt so good, so powerful, their secret truth finally made into Ritual.
“Let it be known that your Grace bond is true,” spoke Queen Alea.
“Drink before us in celebration of Hespera’s blessing upon you,” Queen Soteira declared.
Uncle Argyros placed the chalice in Lio’s hand. Cassia’s Grace lifted his creation to her lips. In their mingled blood, she tasted the hours of their lives, and she could name the sands he had halted forever to forge this glass. The crumbling stone of their shrine and its enduring Sanctuary magic. The sparkling black of Orthros’s beaches, their home. The crimson slivers of his shattered window, remade. Even the treacherous sands of the Maaqul, each grain holding mysteries they had yet to discover.
She held the cup to his mouth in return and watched him drink her blood for all to see. Deep beneath the earth, the Lustra thrummed, as if a witness under some enduring, natural law.
Lio wrapped his hand around hers on the cup and leaned down close for the final tradition of the ceremony. His kiss on her neck was chaste and tender, and yet the intimate brush of his lips, a promise of his bite, made her fangs throb.
She pressed her kiss to his throat and felt his pulse in his vein, knowing it would always beat for her.