Chapter 32 #2
I grumble as I start to sit up, letting his hands linger on my skin before moving away.
I tuck my knees up close to my chest, and his fingers caress my back idly, just brushing where my hair cascades down my spine.
“If I didn’t have so much to tend to, no force on earth could keep me from you, my dear.
But know, each task I address today is one more thing done so I can have you all to myself very, very soon.
” He sits up, brushes my hair aside, and presses a kiss to my bare shoulder.
I look back at him. Tomorrow. Our new life starts tomorrow.
“I know,” I say, accepting defeat. “And from what I hear, my schedule is packed too. Soria is probably pacing outside the door as we speak.” I chuckle at the thought.
Vale takes my hands in his, pressing a kiss to them.
I brush the hair away from his face, relishing this side of the man no one else gets to see.
I wonder how many moments of quiet like this we will have before the ceremony tomorrow afternoon.
I just need to get through to tomorrow night then…
well everything. There won’t be a storybook ending, no, I don’t think so.
But still, there is a relief waiting just around the corner. If I can just get to it.
Soria walks in, alight with energy, the moment Vale leaves the room, much as I expected. Attendants follow not long after, carrying an array of items to prepare me for both today and tomorrow. I pick at the food offered to me. I teeter on the brink of going numb or feeling everything all at once.
“The tailor will be here soon, the last fittings before the big day!” I quietly chuckle to myself at her enthusiasm.
“You may be more excited than I am,” I muse.
“Perhaps,” she says, clutching the underskirt in her arms and leaning against a table.
“I was nervous before my wedding,” she tells me with a far off look in her eyes.
“My mother said I looked like a horse right before a storm, that uneasy feeling they get when danger is near. But it wasn’t fear of what I was entering into, just the day itself.
I loved him, I still love him, even after all these years without him.
” Standing tall and brushing at the fabric, she goes on, “It’s natural to feel any of a number of things.
Even more so given everything.” She moves to me, her hands on my shoulders in the way that always grounds me.
“Focus on the love. That’s your why. Everything else… it’ll fall into place.”
I let her kind words wash over me. I never had a mother, nor a sister. Her warm friendship is the closest I have ever known, and I treasure it dearly.
She steadies me through the day. She scolds the tailor when he reaches for pins and insists the dress is already perfect.
My hands rest over my abdomen as I look at the stunning ornate silver gown I will wear this time tomorrow.
Intricate threading, delicate lace, and ornate beadwork—it almost seems too much.
I know it’s not, not for a queen. But for the woman from the woods, I can barely fathom where I am standing.
I ask Soria if it’s possible to claim a few hours for myself, and after more coaxing and convincing, she shifts obligations to grant it. I yell back my gratitude, still trying to cinch the belt over leather as I run down the hall. Tomorrow is for their queen, but this is for me.
Knowing washes over me the moment I reach the stall. Bracken lifts his head, ready without me having to say a word. This is exactly where I need to be.
I tack him myself, brushing off the stablehand who seems beside himself when I won’t allow the assistance. Soon I will be duty bound, so today I will taste true freedom while I can.
From the instant sunlight touches my face and I inhale the scent of earth and pine, I feel more myself. I urge Bracken on, unleashing him the moment we clear the gates. I won’t stray far, there’s not enough time for that. I am not running from anything, just taking a moment to reunite with myself.
Summer heat gives way to cool shade as I slow under the canopy.
Wind rustles branches, and it sounds like a welcome meant only for me.
Caerhollan is my home, I mean every word of the oath I swear to it.
I remind myself Caerhollan is more than just the High Hold.
It is all of the land here. Every towering stony peak, each lush green valley.
The ruins of towns forgotten by time and the ever-changing flow of every stream. I let it hold me. All of it.
High atop a ridge, I look out. The palace looms on the face of the stone wall, spreading across, peering in and out of the mountain itself. I look to the west. To the lands far beyond. Whole kingdoms waiting. I wonder when I might see them.
I continue my ride, marveling at the beauty all around me and feeling the sure stride of Bracken’s pace underneath me.
I give recognition to how much more full my life has become since I first met a stranger by a creek almost a year ago.
I am no longer that girl in the woods. I am no longer hiding away.
Not in a cave, nor a cottage, or even within myself.
I give a quick flick of the reins and prompt Bracken forward with increasing speed. Toward the High Hold, to my future, to my home.
I feel renewed as I make my way back to my chambers.
Sweat still clings to my skin from the vigorous ride.
A sharpness in my lungs from the fresh air that reminds me how alive I am.
My chamber is quiet, the evening sun still bright across the room.
It’s quiet, but telltale signs show only recently so.
The bath is drawn, waiting for me. Slick with oils, jasmine petals along with the iridescent hues floating across the surface.
I undress and sink in, feeling my body relax and let go at the heat and calming aroma.
Soria returns, but my quiet is not shattered, though.
Her presence no longer an intrusion, I am more free to honor the traditions she carries me through.
She burns a bundle of herbs as I soak, the smoke curling into ribbons through the air. A cleansing of mind, body, and soul.
She hums a sweet melody as she runs the brush through my hair. The summer breeze slips through the open windows, coaxing each strand dry until it settles in soft, glimmering waves against my skin.
I slip into the ivy-green gown. So much like the one I wore the first night I sat beside him in front of the court.
I think back on how it evoked the forest that night and how pained I was at having to leave it.
This lighter vibrant green looks so much like the glow of the valleys I saw on today’s ride.
I may have left one home, but I have found another.
More than walls to call my own, I had found belonging.
Soria ties the ribbon at my waist with care, adjusting the gown so it drapes elegantly across me. “Remember,” she says, voice low and sure, “a queen does not become one at the altar. She becomes one in how she walks toward it.”
I smile, fighting back tears, and give her a deep hug. She stiffens at first, but I don’t let go. Her arms wrap around mine, and in that moment I know: we are family.
The door opens tentatively, and we pull apart. “I’m not interrupting, am I?” Vale’s voice rumbles.
“We both know a king can’t interrupt even if he tried,” Soria says with a laugh. It’s the type of casual banter that would only be allowed from someone considered kin. We may not be blood, but our bond is just as true.
My heart soars at everything I have found here.
Soria busies herself, picking up items, placing them where needed. Readying for tomorrow and giving Vale and I the pretense of privacy. “I have a surprise for you,” the low gravel in his voice making me wonder if we ought to be truly alone.
He extends his arm and leads me to the stairs.
We do not descend but rather climb up to the same turret where he first showed me all of Caerhollan and offered it as my home if I should so choose.
Opening the door and entering into the evening air, a man stands waiting.
Dark robes hang low down to his feet, and he holds a book in his hands. I look at him, then back at Vale.
“Mira, tomorrow we will vow before all of Caerhollan and pledge our love as man and wife. You will take your oath as queen.” He shifts, looking out into the evening sky rich with crimson and orange hues, night moving in on us.
He breathes it in, then turns back to me.
“That is for them. Let’s make this—tonight—just for us.
Mira, here beneath the stars, with no court watching, with no pomp—will you marry me?
” My heart flutters, and joy surges within me.
“I can think of nothing I want more,” sincere truth in my reply.
There, with the sun setting and the moon rising high in the sky, we exchanged our vows. Without the grandeur of court, two lives are bound in promise, in flame.
Speaking the only words that matter, we became man and wife. A promise sealed long before the world would witness. Quietly. Privately. Irrevocably.