Chapter 30 #2
“Not only that,” Milandra draws out a long pause knowing she holds every ear captivated. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks to marry me before then!” The girls all erupt in noise. I smile quietly, casting a careful sidelong glance at Soria, the one person here privy to my own secret engagement.
“He’s been courting me, as you know,” Milandra continues with a captivated audience, “and last night he spoke of travel, even months from now, as if it has already been decided.”
“I want to go to Veredyn just to meet someone from outside this palace,” Carynth laments, many of the others nodding their heads in agreement.
“Especially since our king seems too taken with our dear new friend, Mira,” Milandra remarks.
I feel myself freeze. Trying to detect if she carries the same malice in her words I was so used to hearing in the village, the vitriol that taught me it’s best to keep to myself.
I do not gauge any from her, but caution still rings alarms through my body.
Sephfren’s dulcet voice draws me back within the moment. “You two looked so dreamy dancing together.” She seems genuinely happy for us; I take comfort in that.
“Thank you.” I smile at her kindness, then shift back to the group.
“Tell me about Veredyn,” I ask. I have heard much of the neighboring kingdoms from Fenloris, how the routes to all kingdoms open in the fall for a grand meeting and exchange.
The words of a scholar and those of the people vary differently.
And right now, hearing the excitement around the festival, the gossip about young men from far-off lands, it’s the exact distraction I need.
My energy is depleted as the afternoon turns to early evening.
They may have talked until the sun set and rose again had I not moved on to other tables.
They’re likely still talking to each other even now as I make my way back to the western corridors.
Men leave various offices; many I am sure will be greeting those same women I surrounded myself with earlier, retiring for the evening together.
Exhausted as I am from the many exchanges, the symphony of movement all around me is becoming more familiar.
And I begin to feel even more at home, weary as I may be.
The same look of fatigue is draped across Vale when I see him down the hall for me. Men shaking his hand and patting his shoulder as they exit the main council room. Ace comes trotting up toward me as Vale continues speaking to Odrin in the distance.
Ace looks more worn than any of us. His hair is wild, even by his standards. I imagine him tugging at it through the long meetings. “Are you alright, my friend?” I ask him as he puffs out his cheeks, the flow of air stopping just before my face as he leans in to me.
“I am not cut out for this,” he says. I want to play into the levity with him, but I am reminded, without an heir, the responsibility of the kingdom could fall on him if ever anything happened to Vale.
“You owe me a drink, bard,” Soria says. It’s common for either or both of them to make themselves scarce when Vale and I reunite, I can’t help but think that she is stepping in to save me from what I’m sure she can sense is tugging at me deep within.
With little more exchange, they leave, just as Vale reaches me, extending his arm as my escort. “I don’t know about you, but I for one need a little fresh air.”
He leads me to a small, secluded terrace near the royal chambers. The heat of early summer still soaked into the stones loosens something in him, as it should in me—yet the tension I carry presses inward, fighting to get out.
“How was your…”
“Am I worth the wait?” I blurt out over him, straight to the marrow of it. I surprise even myself.
He laughs as he sets down the food he was about to take a bite from, assured I would be replying to the question he didn’t get to ask. Vale shakes his head, grasping it as if he heard me right. “Worth the wait?”
I fold in on myself. Slouching and making myself smaller.
“We’ll never have children.” A sorrow in my words for him more than myself. “Something you want and deserve. Something you need,” I reluctantly add.
“Has someone gotten into your head, little flame?” He leans in now, serious yet sweet.
“Yes,” he concedes. “I do want children.” My heart drops.
“Someday,” he adds, lifting my chin so my eyes meet his own.
“I’ve never wanted anything, or anyone, as much as I want you, Mira.
Never loved anyone the way I love you. You have stolen my heart, and I hope you don’t intend to give it back.
” His crooked smile shatters the ache of doubt that threatened to consume me.
“I won’t say you’re worth the wait. I don’t consider myself to be waiting.
I’ve done waiting. I am done waiting. Because what I was waiting for was you. It’s always been you.”
“You question your worth?” He reaches for the buttons on his shirt, loosening one then the other, pulling the talisman from its place across his chest. “Then look at this. This,” he says, all seriousness in his words, “this is proof.”
“Destiny. Prophecy. Call it what you will. But it was said that this would link lifetimes of love. First Eryndor and Awynn. And now, us. Mira, I love you. And I will be damned if anything is going to keep me from having the happiest of lifetimes with you.”
“Doesn’t prophecy also say you’d have a love that is your equal? I’m just—” He stops me before I can say another word, pulling me to stand with him as he rises, one hand anchoring me at my hip, the other cupping my face. His thumb gently caresses small circles across my cheek.
“And you are, flame. You are the fiercest, bravest, most willfully stubborn woman I have ever met. Not to mention the kindest, most generously loving. You found a brute of a man covered in blood burst through your door, and what did you do? You brought me back from the brink of death, and you showed me what it’s like to live. ”
I rise to the tips of my feet and press a kiss to his lips. “Then let’s make every day count.”
“There’s my flame.” He smiles down at me. “Gods help anyone who stands in our way.” He lets out a low rumbling chuckle I feel as my chest presses against his own.
“In fact,” he shifts now, guiding me back to my seat, “that was the topic of much conversation today.”
Something in me stills at that—this is no longer ours alone but something placed before those who would weigh it, measure it, deny it. Still… we chose this. Together. And that truth holds, even as the world presses in.
He goes on to tell me of the discussions behind closed doors only hours ago.
Informing his council of his intention to marry me, to make me his queen.
I suspect he glosses over some details, sipping from his glass of wine casually, but I hear his tone shift when he says, “If they try to strip this from me, I will show them what a king defends.”
My breath catches, not in fear, but in fierce alignment. In knowing.
I reach for his hand, threading my fingers through his.
“Then let them try.” Each word echoes the power of our promise to each other. “And let’s give them something to believe in. This isn’t a fight for power. It’s for something greater. Love.”
His eyes burn with pride and promise.
“Then let’s not wait. If you’re ready, and gods, Mira, the way you blaze, I know you are, let’s show them the greatest power of all.”
Wind lifts around us, trees rustling, and stars begin to shine across the sky. Leaving the table, fingers entwined, we walk not only into the night, but into our future. A flame and a love that will not be denied.