Chapter Twenty-Five
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Archie
Sarelia and I stand together on the porch watching as dust settles on the gravel drive while her parents’ car disappears in the distance.
“I wasn’t looking forward to them coming,” she says. “But I’m not exactly happy to see them go, either.”
I kiss her cheek, then rest my head against hers. “They’ll be back,” I reply. “If not for us, then for more of Rosie’s cake.”
She huffs what could be considered a laugh, if it didn’t slide into tears at the end.
“Sweet Sarelia,” I coo, twisting her into my arms. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Feelings are stupid,” she whimpers. “I’d like to unsubscribe.”
“Then how will you feel the depth of your love for me?” I tsk. “No, no, better you keep them.”
“Then what am I to do with all of the feelings that aren’t related to you?” she asks wetly, throwing an arm out behind her. “Like how much I miss them already and how much it sucks that they’re finally learning and I’ll hardly get to see it at all?”
Ah. She has forgotten.
“You married a man who deals in the dark shadows of the world, my princess,” I remind her.
“And not only deals in them, but thrives in them. It would be the greatest gift for you to take the darkest threads of emotion within you and give them to me. In exchange, I will give you every sweet, precious thing I’m capable of producing.
All my love, all my joy, and all my happiness—it’s yours.
Take my light, wife, and give me your darkness. ”
Her ragged breaths warm the skin of my neck as she tucks her face into it. “That feels rather selfish,” she comments.
“Indeed, it is, but I am a selfish creature, begging for whatever scraps you may throw my way.” I sigh, long and dramatic.
“Fine, though, I suppose if you wish to cling to darkness, I will simply offer my arm, instead, so that I can stand in it with you.” I brush my mouth over her temple.
“Whatever you wish, my angel. Whatever brings you peace. These are the things that I will give to you always.”
She shifts until her starry hazel eyes meet mine with wonder. “How is it that you always manage to say the perfect thing?” she asks. “How is it that you always manage to be exactly what I need?
I tuck a lock of long, silky hair behind her ear and smile. “Because,” I murmur, “you are my princess, and I am your knight.”
Her eyes soften.
“Yeah,” she agrees. “I am your princess, and you are my knight.”