Chapter 31
I throw down the last of the helmets in front of the fire with a thunk, removing my mask to wipe the sweat from my brow and push my damp hair back.
“Did I ever mention how good you look when you’re working?” Ruskin asks me. I hadn’t heard him come in, I’d been so absorbed in re-stocking the Seelie’s supply of lead armor. We sent our reply to Lisinder, sharing our theory about Evanthe’s plans. In a few hours we will join the Unseelie at Irnua, to face Albrecht’s army, and whatever else Evanthe has in store for us.
“I thought it was the military get-up that did it for you?” I say teasingly, turning to count up how many sets of greaves I’ve made. I feel him come up behind me, pressing himself against me suggestively. My body grows warm in a way that has nothing to do with the fire burning in the grate.
“No,” he says, his voice rough and enticing. “I think it’s anything where you look like you might get dirty.” His hands encircle my hips, tugging me closer so my ass nestles against his groin, and when I look up, his eyes are flashing playfully.
It’s ridiculous to be bantering like this when we stand on the edge of a precipice, and yet it also feels like one of the things that might help us stay calm enough to take the leap. If we think too much about what’s waiting for us in Irnua, I worry I won’t find the courage to go at all. Still, my eyes fall back to my work. Even Ruskin’s flirting can’t make me forget my part in all this.
The Seelie still had some lead suits from the battle of Cavalil, but many were damaged in the fight—unsurprising, since lead is pretty terrible at offering actual protection against projectiles. Plus, we need enough to cover the Low Fae too, now that the resistance has pledged to join us at Irnua with the High Fae. So naturally, I’ve been in my workshop the last few hours, frantically trying to make up the numbers.
Ruskin drops his chin to the crook of my neck, murmuring persuasively in my ear.
“You need to rest now, Ella,” he says. The joking tone is gone, and I can hear the worry threatening to overwhelm him.
“I will. I think I’m finished, anyway,” I say, checking over the stacks of shaped metal. “It’s amazing how much faster things are now that I’m a bit stronger and know what I’m doing with my magic.”
They aren’t the most elegant pieces in the world, but they will get the job done. The Low Fae will be able to go onto that battlefield without immediately collapsing from cold iron sickness.
“Come on,” Ruskin says, starting to drag me away from the workshop.
“Wait. I just need one more thing.” When Ruskin sees what I’ve retrieved from beneath the workbench, his eyes brighten with emotion. He nods in understanding, and we proceed to his quarters.
General Sunshard has set up a war room in Ruskin’s library with her husband, busy organizing the troops at Ruskin’s request, picking lieutenants and ensuring we have enough horses and weaponry. They’re discussing formations with Kellspring when I push my way in, but the General stops speaking to give me a questioning look.
“How comes the armor?” she asks.
“We should have enough,” I say, and she nods approvingly.
“There’s something else, General, Lord Sunshard.” I address both of them, stepping forward and holding out the object I retrieved from deep beneath the palace a few hours ago.
“My old sword,” the General says, her usually firm voice cracking ever so slightly. Her husband hurries forward and takes it from me, reverently passing it to his wife.
“Since we couldn’t bury Halima with it, I thought you might want it back,” I say quietly. I hadn’t brought it up before because I was worried Evanthe might’ve done something with it. But I found the sword still lying where Halima dropped it the day she died.
The General closes her hands around the handle.
“I don’t know if Halima ever fully explained, but we Sunshards form a deep connection with our weapons,” she says, her eyes on the blade. “So much so that we can only pass them on to someone closely tied to us. The magic in the blade will reject them otherwise. The day I gave this to Halima, I knew there was no worthier recipient. Not because she was my child, but because she embodied everything we had taught her so well.” She lifts her eyes from the sword to meet my gaze. “Thank you,” she says. “It is almost like seeing my daughter again.”
I don’t pretend to fully understand the connection the General describes, but I knew this would mean something to Halima’s parents, and I feel glad I could do something for them. It seems such a small gesture, in return for the lives Halima saved in sacrificing her own.
That important job completed, I let Ruskin gently guide me out of the library to his room, where I collapse onto the bed.
“Sleep,” he orders. “If only just for ten minutes. We have time.”
Despite Ruskin’s order, I can’t sleep. Instead, I stare up at the enchanted ceiling of his room, watching clouds scud across a light blue sky. I think about the Sunshards at work in the library. It hadn’t occurred to me until recently how much preparation war requires. I wonder if any of it can possibly be enough, especially when we still don’t have any weapon that can win against Evanthe and her dark magic.
“If we did beat her, what then?” I ask, still looking upwards. “Will you be able to put your name back on the stone, even though she took it off?”
“Yes. She’s proof that the stone will re-accept names that have been removed. Why? What are you thinking?”
“I’m just trying to understand how the High Monarch power works, seeing if I can find any weaknesses, because as long as Evanthe’s heart is protected?—”
I sit up, the idea hitting me like a two-ton ursinian.
“Ruskin, how did Cebba curse your heart?”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“You were High King when Cebba cursed you, right?”
“Correct. Newly so, but I wouldn’t have been able to banish her without a magical connection to the kingdom.”
“But that’s exactly it. I can imagine the High King power allows you some pretty impressive protections. So how was Cebba able to curse you? How did she get past your defenses?”
Ruskin thinks this over. “Well, she hadn’t actually been banished yet when she cursed me. She was still a subject of the Seelie Court.”
“Why does that matter?”
Ruskin gets up and closes the door.
“You know the High Monarch has a connection with the land and living things of the kingdom.”
“Yes, it’s why your curse started showing up elsewhere,” I say, remembering the spoiled food and sick animals, infected with the same gold that was taking Ruskin over.
“We also share a link with our subjects. It’s certainly not as strong or direct as the tie to the land, but it’s still there. And if I cast a spell on one of my subjects, that link intensifies.”
I absorb this, my eyes flicking to the door. “So why the secrecy?”
He sighs. “The connection goes both ways. I’m connecting my magic directly to someone else, if only for the time it takes me to cast the spell. If someone is aware of and understands that link, then they can exploit it.”
“Which is what Cebba did,” I prompt. Ruskin’s demeanor has been subtly shifting as he explains this to me, and now I see a glimmer of hope on his face.
“Yes. When I cast the banishment spell on her, she was ready for it and she sent some of her magic back—the curse on my heart.”
I stand up and start pacing the room. “So what’s to stop me doing the same to Evanthe? She opens up the link to attack me with her magic, and I send my own magic through it to get that iron shard out of her heart. That way I can get around her defenses. All I have to do is get her to cast a spell on me, which shouldn’t be hard—she hasn’t exactly been cool-headed recently.”
“Well, there’s one small catch,” Ruskin points out.
It only takes a beat for me to understand what he’s getting at. “I’m not a subject of Seelie.”
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. Those with Seelie blood living in the Seelie Kingdom are automatically subjects of the monarch, but neither apply to you.”
“Well, so what do I have to do?” I say. I’m not willing to give up on the idea. “There must be some way a person without Seelie blood can become a subject of the Seelie Crown.”
I’m about to start ranting about the idea of blood purity, but I stop when I notice Ruskin is looking at me funny.
“What?” I ask.
He takes a deep breath, as if preparing himself for what he’s about to say next.
“There is. In fact, my father did it. Aside from being born into it, you can become a subject of the Seelie Crown if you marry into it.”
I don’t move. “So you’re saying, if we want me to have a chance at getting that iron out of Evanthe…”
Ruskin slowly stands, walking over to me. My heart rate speeds up. I don’t know what to do, where to look, as he drops down to one knee in front of me.
“Eleanor Thorn,” he says, looking up at me with intense eyes. “Will you marry me?”
I’m genuinely lost for words for at least ten seconds.
“Are you serious?” is all I can manage in the end. I feel confused—blindsided.
“Of course I am,” he says. “You’re right, this could be the best chance we have.”
Even though I’m the one who got us here, I can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance.
“Right, so the only reason you’re proposing is to save your kingdom,” I say.
“Well, that’s what gave me the idea.” He grins up at me, as if he’s not concerned in the slightest that I’ll say no. “But I do have another reason, actually.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
He rises, leading me over to the bed, where he sits us down, side by side. The smile is gone, and his expression is so deadly serious it almost worries me.
“I’m asking because I love you, Ella, so deeply, so utterly, that I no longer make any sense without you. Not because you broke my curse, or because your true name matches mine, but because you’re you, and I can’t imagine wanting anything more. If our names didn’t match, I’d rewrite the stars myself if that was what it took to be the one by your side. What I feel for you is stronger than destiny and truer than anything the stars could write out.”
I stare at him, taking this in. But he’s still not done.
“I’m asking you to marry me, because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And as long as I live—however long or short that life may be—I want to know that you belong to me in every way, and I to you.”
My heart feels about three sizes bigger than normal as I take his hand in mine, wondering if I have any words that could do justice to what I feel.
“We’re about to go to a war that I don’t know we’ll survive,” I say frankly. “But even though I’m afraid, I know I can do it, because with you, Ruskin, I’m whoever I want to be. I can be brave, and strong, and face down death without blinking. All I have to do is think that I’m doing it for you, with you, and everything falls into place. I love you. More than I ever thought possible. And whatever comes next, I want to face it with you. So yes, I will marry you.”
He kisses me, and the bond between us glows so fiercely I think it’s in danger of blinding us. I might’ve daydreamed about this moment before, in my most private thoughts, but the reality is different. It’s rushed and imperfect and overshadowed by the specter of the battle ahead, and I don’t care. It’s Ruskin and me, and that’s all that matters.
Our mouths part, but we still cling to each other, knowing that once we separate, we’ll have to think about everything that’s against us.
“Good speech, by the way.” Ruskin smiles against my lips.
“Thanks, you too,” I say, laughing.
“Yes, I thought it was pretty convincing.”
I sigh, grieving having to cut this moment short, but aware of the minutes ticking by.
“We probably have an hour before we have to leave, you know,” I say, glancing at the sun out the window. “And we’ll need to make this official before we find Evanthe. So, how exactly do you throw a fae wedding?”
“Well,” Ruskin says, thinking. “The absolutely first thing you have to do is ask Destan Lionsvale for help.”
Half an hour later, I hover in an alcove of the throne room, feeling ridiculous and excited, not to mention sick and proud all at the same time. Destan almost had a fit when we told him we needed a marriage ceremony and fast. A good five minutes was spent just apologizing to him about the lack of time to design a proper dress. Instead, I’m just wearing one of my old favorites from my first time in Faerie, a modest, light blue dress that I think brings out the color of my eyes. Underneath it, I’m also wearing as much as I can of my battle gear—my riding leathers concealed beneath the pretty silk.
The door swings open, and I look up expectantly, happiness flooding through me when I see Dad come in. I’d sent for him from town, but I hadn’t known if he’d make it in time.
“Dad,” I say, rushing up to him. Suddenly I’m nervous again, wondering what he’ll make of all this.
“So, I hear there’s going to be a wedding,” he says gruffly.
“Yes. It’s complicated, but it has to happen now. For magic reasons,” I add hastily. The last thing I need is Dad thinking we’re rushing because there’s a little Dawnsong on the way.
“And if it weren’t for the magical reasons?” he asks. He searches my face, and I realize his gruffness is just his attempt to hold back his emotions. “Is this what you want, Nora?”
“Yes. I love him,” I say, knowing these to be two simple truths. The rest, however… “But I also have to think about what this means, don’t I?” I ask him. “Marrying Ruskin means I wouldn’t be able to go back to Styrland. Not to live, anyway.”
“And that worries you?” he asks.
“Well, what about you? I don’t want to leave you alone?—”
He waves his hand dismissively. “I’m a full-grown man. If I’m not good at taking care of myself, it’s well past time I figured it out, don’t you think?” He holds my arms, his voice softening. “Now, if you forget about me, does staying here feel right?”
I think it over.
“I want to be the person I’m meant to be, and to be in the right place to do that. Does that make sense?”
“And do you think that’s Faerie?” he prompts.
“I think so.” I remember when I first came here—was dragged here—by Ruskin. All I could think of was escaping and going back home. But Styrland doesn’t feel like home anymore. In some ways, it never really did. I had friends, and Dad, but there wasn’t anyone who really understood my passions and my dreams. There wasn’t room for me to grow the way I needed to. And now that I have…I think I’ve outgrown the life I used to have.
I struggle to figure out how to say this to Dad. “It’s just, so much about the magic here and the way I’ve changed has taken me by surprise,” I say. “I was afraid that my past—my humanity, Styrland—was being taken away from me. But when I think about being here, protecting this kingdom and keeping the people safe? Then it feels right.”
My dad nods understandingly. “Nora, I love you, but what’s really waiting for you back home? You hated living in that village.”
“I didn’t,” I say reflexively.
“Yes, you did,” he insists. “That’s why you got so interested in your mother’s work, and her notes after she died. It’s why you buried yourself in that workshop, tinkering with metals and who knows what. You were always searching for something, beyond us, beyond Styrland.”
“What are you saying?” I ask. “That you think I’m meant to be here?”
“I’m saying that it feels like all your life you’ve been looking for the answer to a question you didn’t know to ask yet. Maybe you’ve found it here.”
I bite my lip, thinking about how he instantly recognized me at Albrecht’s castle. “And it doesn’t bother you that things will change? That I’ve changed?”
He shrugs. “You’ll always be Nora, my dear. Taking this step won’t change that.”
I pull Dad in tight, squeezing him until he pokes me to let him go. He’s helped me more than he can know. Chasing away my doubts with his kind, wise words.
Ruskin comes in with Destan, his eyes fixed on me from the moment he enters. He looks ridiculously gorgeous dressed for battle, his broad shoulders accentuated by his tunic, his black, wavy hair pushed back to emphasize the strong lines of his face. I tug at my dress and shrug apologetically at him, but he just smiles, his eyes lighting up.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful,” he says. It’s silly, but it makes me blush all the same. Then I see the bundle of yellow in his hands—a bunch of marigolds, my favorite flower. He hands them to me, his fingers brushing against mine, and I know that even if Evanthe stormed through the doors right this moment, nothing would stop me from marrying Ruskin.
The ceremony is an efficient, spartan thing—unsurprising, since General Sunshard is officiating as the highest-ranking officer in the contingent. But I don’t need a fancy service. And having her there is a little like having Halima with us. As we go through the ceremony, I focus on Ruskin’s eyes, and when I have to say my responses, I repeat the words without looking away.
We near the end, and there’s still one key thing we haven’t done yet.
“I know you don’t really exchange these in Faerie,” I say, reaching into my pocket. “But this marriage is fifty percent human, so we have to have some human traditions.”
I pull out a pair of rings. I had to make them quickly, but I like how they turned out: ridged gold with flecks of black shot through. Ruskin examines it intently as I hand him mine.
“I made them using the pendant you gave me, remember? I found it in my old room.” The single rose petal I’d gilded was a little tricky to rework, but my magic had managed it in the end. Ruskin originally gave it to me so that if I ever needed him, I could find him, and him me. It seems like a fitting gift for a wedding day.
He slides it onto my finger, and I take his hand, putting his on. Then the ceremony is over, and Dad is kissing me on the cheek and Destan is clapping.
I’m a little dazed. I think I expected something magical to happen—some recognition of what we’ve just done—but of course Ruskin and I are already tied together magically in every way that matters. This is just the icing on our non-existent wedding cake.
I just have time to get my dress off and hug Dad goodbye, and then we’re meeting our army in the courtyards of the Seelie palace. As we ride out, I consider that I’ll be spending my wedding day fighting for the lives of everyone around me. Ruskin catches my eye, smilingly showing me the ring on his finger, and I correct myself.
I’ll be spending my wedding day with my husband. That’s good enough for me.