Chapter 27 #2
“You look well.” His voice rumbles against my ear as he leans in and whispers.
I fiddle with my sleeve a little. “Not the gown. You.” He stops.
His finger tilts my chin so I look him in the eye.
He doesn’t repeat his words, but he does respond.
His lips finding mine. Tender and sure. Any tension I may have held melts away.
When I open my eyes, I don’t pull away. I can sense the way his mouth has upturned to a smile; it matches my own.
Everything feels like a dream as we continue. I was so lost in his nearness it seemed like only a heartbeat before we arrived in front of the conservatory doors. He stops. It’s not the doors keeping him, it’s something else. His shoulders draw back, and he breathes more heavily.
“What is it?” I reach for his arm with both hands now.
“When I found you here…” He can’t bring himself to go on.
I had only flashes from my fevered state.
Running. I had been running. Here? It all seemed so foggy.
He shakes his head as if shifting away smoke to clear the room.
“I don’t want that memory to be what stays here. Not in this place, not in my heart.”
He opens the doors. Thick air, fragrant and moist, escapes the chamber before we even step in. Sunset has made way for the rich hues of twilight. Stars only just begin to take shape beyond the glass vaulted ceiling. The room is in full bloom.
He guides me by the hand into the room. “Things really came into their own while I was away.” He looks at the blossoms, then to me. “Remarkable.”
I blush at the attention. Standing with him here, it all feels magical.
This amazing handsome man, the starlight, the smell of earth and flowers alike.
I look around the room, trying to cut through the haze of my memory.
The vines now seem to stretch impossibly high.
Every bud seems to have awoken. Jasmin, lilac, even aster. Aster? That can’t be right.
“Mira,” Vale’s voice beckons my attention with gentle command.
“I love you. I knew it long before we ever said the words, and with each passing day I know it more. I love you. Completely. Absolutely. The fire in your spirit, the kindness of your heart. All of it. I know I have asked so much of you, but, my love, I must ask one more thing.”
I feel frozen in place, unable to breathe. My hands in his are the only things keeping me tethered. I attempt to ready myself. Whatever it takes to stay at his side, I will face. Still, I am unprepared for what happens next.
His hands squeeze mine, and I brace myself for the worst. Thoughts whirl through my mind, too many to latch on to a single one.
He continues, “All the titles in the world mean little to me without you beside me. Whatever I am to this kingdom, I want you at my side, in every way. I ask not as Lord or King, but as a man. A man utterly in love with you.”
I draw in air as if it’s the last breath I may ever take.
“Mira,” he kneels before me and reaches for his pocket. “Will you stay, not just in Caerhollan, but with me always, as my wife?”
I press my palm to my lips, in too much shock to even process the words.
His eyes hold mine. No bravado. No command. Only devotion.
I answer with the truest words I’ve ever known “Yes, Vale. I am yours, always.”
Awash in both joy and relief, he slides the ring upon my finger and scoops me into his arms, spinning us both.
I squeal in delight. He slows, but continues holding me there.
I caress his cheek, the stone catching the torchlight and gleaming like a star plucked straight from the heavens.
I look at it, really look at it for the first time.
“Vale!” I am stunned. I have never seen anything so breathtaking. An elegant flowing band vining around the large shimmering jewel, its green catching the light like new growth beneath the trees. Tendril arching up to hold it, as if the mountain itself could lift us to the night sky.
He sets me down delicately. “Do you like it?” Sincere yet tentative, as he if he worried I might take back my words, that I might still be endangered from the fever, or some twist of fate that might tear us apart.
“I love it,” I say, taking his face in both my hands. “I love you. I don’t need a ring or a vow to prove it.”
He takes my newly anointed hand and presses a kiss to the knuckles just beyond the ring, fondness sparkling in his eyes as he looks down at it. “It was my mother’s.”
I place my other hand over ours entwined and bring them to my own lips. A delicate kiss that speaks more than any words.
“This,” he says, lifting my hand, “is why I was delayed. Well, that and the storms. I’d planned the trip well. Or so I thought. There should have been plenty of time.”
He walks me over to the chaise where I do much of my journaling, and sits beside me, not once letting go of my hand. “I traveled to see my sister.”
“In Marothis?”
“Indeed.” He raises an impressed brow. “I’d heard you’d been making yourself at home, my flame,” he says with an admiring nod of approval. “It’s not an easy journey this time of year, but as my closest living family, I wanted her blessing first.”
I feel my shoulders unspool at the blessing of a woman I have never met. At the thought, care, and intent that preceded this night.
“Then there was the Jewel. The Manor.” Reverence laces his words. “That’s where she lies, my mother. When we lost my father…. She didn’t want to be here if it wasn’t with him. So she insisted when it was time, she wanted to be at the place that felt most sacred to her and our family.”
I squeeze his hand for comfort and respect and to show I am listening to every single word, not wanting to speak over something so dear.
“I worried each step of the journey back from Marothis. The rain is troubling enough, but those storms were a force unlike any other. The closer we drew the more they worsened. I thought about abandoning the ring. Saving it for another time, but when the morning cleared, we stayed the course. I just kept thinking if I could just get there, just get the ring…. I knew I would be cutting it close.”
He looks at me, seeking forgiveness I need not grant. Grace he already holds. “I am so sorry. That last day started with such promise, but then it turned well before we reached the Manor and it never let up. The lightning… the horses couldn’t take it.”
I move and sit on his lap. Bringing us closer not just in our hearts but in the space.
“It’s alright. You’re here now. I would marry you without the ring. I would marry you right now if that’s what you wanted. All I care about is you… here with me.”
“Careful, flame. I have waited long enough to find you, I may not be so patient to let the world know you are mine alone.”
He brings our joined hands to his chest, over the heart I’ve come to know so well.
“It was worth every storm,” he says, voice rough with feeling. “To stand here. To ask you. To see you brimming with life. And to be chosen by you still.”
A hush settles around us. Not silence. Something sacred. A stillness that holds the echo of everything we’ve endured and everything we’ve dared to hope.
The warm sweet air holds us there, brushing around us like a sign. I breathe in the scent of the impossible blooms, their petals catching in the torchlight. I almost speak it aloud, this strange and perfect dream, but I don’t wish to break the spell.
Instead, I rest my forehead to his, my whisper brushing his lips. For a moment the whole world feels forged of stars and storm light, of roots and flame.
“I chose you always, Vale. Until my last breath. I am yours, forevermore.”
That night, we come together like vow made flesh, slow, aching, sacred. The kind of love that asks nothing and offers everything. There is no haste, only the language of hands and breath and soul remembering soul. Sweet tender passion of two flames united as one.
He pulls me into his arms fully, the ring glinting in the dark. He holds me as if I am both fire and refuge, and I gather him in kind. The storm and the shelter, the kingdom and the man.
The last sound I hear before sleep is the quiet sigh from his lips, a promise. “Forevermore.”