54. Krait
Chapter 54
Krait
O n our way through the streets of Sahlmkar, Sybilla nervously babbled about a wedding she’d attended for a couple of nobles in the South Corridor—something about it being a dockside ceremony and losing rings to the ocean.
My excitement had risen too much to actively listen to her story. But, seeing her by my side, chattering amicably, flushed and energized felt right. We burst into the Temple of Shadows midday.
A Divine was lighting the candles around a charcoal-colored statue of my great-great-great-grandfather Desidero. Sybilla wandered about the temple while I explained to the man of worship, who only spoke Brennac, that we would like to be wed. The conversation went by in a blur of anticipation and adrenaline.
Waiting even a moment longer to make our union official seemed foolish when there would be no carrying on without her. We’d already wasted too much damned time fighting.
I’d eloped once and it had cost me my heart—even that didn’t deter me. Instead that rusty organ in my chest swelled, thinking about the second chance that lay before me.
The Divine raised his brow. He looked over at Sybilla. “She is the one?” he asked.
I watched Sybilla as she stared up at the gray tapestries adorning the walls with her hands clasped behind her back. The space was windowless and built from dark lava stone. Torches lit only the wall hangings and the monument to the Shadow Origin at the center of the room. Darkness danced around us.
Sybilla wore the dark breeches and cream tunic that I’d had Ryn pack in the satchel for her. She’d tried to tame her curls into a loose braid over her shoulder, which had become frayed and now poked out in places. I wore something similarly plain and unpressed. It didn’t look like any royal wedding I’d ever attended, but it would be ours.
She glanced back at me and smiled.
“She’s the one,” I answered.
I’d rushed one marriage. I’d let my Source Match bear the consequences of marrying the wrong man. My chest tightened, and Sybilla frowned as she approached me.
“Is something wrong?” She placed a hand on my chest. “Are you going to leave me at the altar, Darvanda?” she asked with a playful tilt of her head.
“That would be more of your move,” I joked and her frown deepened. My hand slipped over hers as she met my eyes. “I’ve never been more sure that I am in the right place with the right person.”
Her expression brightened again. “Well, good. You’d be a fool not to recognize what a catch I am.”
At that, I dropped my forehead to hers and let a chuckle rumble in my chest.
I would be a fool.
There were no witnesses, no carriage processions, no crowds or applause or pomp.
We stood before the Divine. Our vows were short and in Brennac, which meant she didn’t understand them. I opened my mind so that she could hear me translate as we recited them together.
“May the Origins honor our union.
When the sun breaks, this hand thou shall take.
Through both shadow and light, we shall together face future plights.
Let our roots grow deep in the soil for when winds raise ocean shores,
The fire within me is forever yours.
And when the moon and stars rise, our love shall be written in dark skies.
Until death do us part, our love shall conquer all.
My heart is now thy heart.”
Her Brennac was sloppy and barely accurate, which made me smirk as we finished repeating our promises.
By the end of our vows, I felt her hands shaking in mine and realized I was trembling too. It was not with fear. It was from an end to fear—holding her there, knowing that I’d wake beside her for as many tomorrows as we were graced with.
Her eyes glistened like emerald pools as she looked up at me and squeezed my fingers. Her encouraging smile melted me; it would be all I saw in my dreams, replacing so many nightmares.
The Divine finally said, “You may seal your union with a kiss.”
She seemed to understand his words just fine because she pulled me down. When she kissed me, every muscle in my body relaxed and I lifted my hands to cup her face.
When we parted, the Divine held up two wooden rings, which were typically provided by the temple to those who could not afford metals. That tiny piece of smoothed wood would be my most priceless treasure.
As soon as she slid the ring onto my finger, my heart skipped a few beats as though readjusting. Now it matched the rhythm of hers.
“Let’s go prepare beasts to fight for our future,” she whispered into my ear.
Forever stubborn, forever efficient. Forever mine.