Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Clouds linger low and lazy, shading the morning sun just enough to hold everything in a dim grey glow. Quiet, peaceful. Fitting.
The vibrant colors of a clear bright morning would be too overpowering. I know the sun will shine, and the day will be a rainbow of life and love, but right now this… this is perfect.
Vale stirs beside me, not wanting to end the magic of the night before.
The night we pledged ourselves to each other amongst the stars for only the gods to bear witness to.
I couldn’t have asked for a better moment.
As much as part of me may have wanted Soria and Ace there as well, there was something particularly sacred in the way it was only us and the pious man sealing our bond that reflected just how true our love is.
I sink back down into the bed, into Vale’s arms. They wrap around me, the scruff across his neck teasing at the bare skin of my shoulder.
He lets out a low, sleepy groan. “We are far from traditional, but I will never hear the end of it if Soria finds me here before the wedding.” With a laugh and a groan, he squeezes his arms tightly around me one last time before rising.
The sheet is cool against my skin as it shifts with his movement.
The stillness of the morning is all too fleeting.
I remind myself that it’s only a day. I don’t feel nervous.
I look back from the ring on my hand to the man now quietly dressing in the low light, and the peace I most cherish lies within my own heart.
“You best not leave without kissing me goodbye, husband.” I’m unable to contain the delight I feel at saying that last word.
“I would never do such a thing, my wife,” he replies in kind. Sauntering over to the bed, Vale leans low, and kisses me as though I am the only thing in the world that matters. And in his eyes, I feel it just might be true.
I flop back on the bed, shaking my shoulders and kicking my feet, giddy with excitement the moment the door shuts.
Not at the wedding. I am far more overwhelmed than excited for the impending spectacle.
But because I am his wife. We are married.
No matter what happens today, nothing can take that away.
I let my body collapse, arms now wide at my sides, filling the whole bed. I breathe in the scent of him still lingering on the sheets; my head rolls from side to side as I indulge in this last moment of calm before the storm.
The clouds begin to part, yellow streaks growing more brilliant by the minute reach across the walls. The sun is shining, and with it, so too shall I.
My pulse quickens with each passing hour.
The flurry of attendants coming and going, seeing to every detail of my preparation, adding to the rush.
I begin to play tricks on my mind. This flutter, it’s normal.
How I let my mind view it, though, nervousness and fear or excitement and joy, that is up to me.
There is plenty to be wary of, but there is also much to be happy for. I do my level best to focus on the latter.
I take my time, allowing myself to really feel the level of care that went into each stitch on the gorgeous gown I will wear.
Though, if I am being honest with myself, the more demure green dress of the night before will always be most dear.
This may be my wedding gown, but that was the one I wore when I married my love.
I try to hide my smile at the secret I am keeping, but it is impossible.
“There she is,” Soria remarks. “The blushing bride. How are you feeling?”
“Honestly, good. Really good.” The answer surprises even myself.
But it is true. I am a married woman. And I am married to the man who holds my heart with more care than I could ever hope for, who renews my strength and never lets me forget my own power, who cherishes me like something sacred, and who inspires me to something greater not just for others but also for myself.
Today the king takes his queen, but last night two souls came together, and that makes all the difference.
I follow Soria’s lead through the morning. We have an unshakable bond too. I take time to appreciate it. I will give everything to the people today, yet I will still savor the small moments with the people I love every chance I get.
We are both on the brink of tears when I finally step out in the gown, hair pulled up with cascading curls barely sweeping my neck. Her hands cover her mouth as she shakes her head, eyes welling up. “You look perfect, my dear.” She opens her arms, and I move into them happily.
“Thanks to you. And not just today, not just the work you do. You. Your friendship, your heart, your strength. I wouldn’t be here today without you.” We hold each other a moment before pulling away, each reaching for a handkerchief to dab away any tears that threaten to breach.
“There is only one thing missing,” she says with a wry smirk as she reaches for something.
She approaches with a velvet box. “He wanted to give it to you himself, but I said he mustn’t see you before the ceremony.
” Her eyes shine as I reach to open it. There, resting on a satin lining, are the most exquisite gems I have ever seen. “Something fit for a queen.”
Eyes wide, I am left speechless. She directs me toward the mirror, and I watch the reflection as she drapes the necklace across my décolletage.
The stones are cold and heavy. The weight of them grounding me in the moment as she clasps them to my neck.
Far less the weight of duty—more the steady hand of inheritance.
They shimmer in the sun, the silver bodice of the gown catching the glow in kind.
Shining ethereal beauty looks back at me, even my own inner light seems to extend and bring it all together.
It’s hard to believe it’s me looking back, but yet I also sense how much of me it really is.
I am the girl from the woods, I am the woman in his arms, and yes, I am this as well. Foreign and new, but no less true.
“It’s nearly time,” Soria says softly, not breaking the spell but ensuring I carry this magic with me. Down to the great hall, to all of Caerhollan waiting inside just beyond the doors, to the man standing at the altar—to my destiny.
Guards flank the doors and on either side of the walls.
Soria takes my hands in hers, and I hear the crowd that had been murmuring just beyond the doors start to hush.
Music plays in the distance as she speaks softly, “This is it. Deep breath, dear.” Eyes locked on each other, we breathe together.
Long slow inhales, but my breath fractures as I release it, the energy building inside me.
“I’ll go in and take my place. I will be there at the end, but let’s be honest, the man you’re walking to will have your sole attention,” she says with a wink.
One last squeeze of my hand and the doors part.
She enters, walking head held high as the music carries on.
The doors close, and I move to stand before them.
When they open once more, all eyes will be on me. The whole of the kingdom staring at me. I don’t need to look back. I just need to see him. Only him.
I breathe in once more and nod to the guards.
They move. The massive heavy doors open with a thunderous sigh.
Light pours in from every window in the grand room.
For a fleeting instant I feel… met. Flowers line each row, a staggering array surrounds the altar.
Soria and Ace smile back at me. And Vale, my Vale, looks at me with an overwhelming love that feels easy to walk to.
One foot then another, slow-paced steps to the strumming of a harp playing a sweet melody that begins to feel like the very beating of my heart.
My chest catches, neither a laugh nor a cry, but some new, even more overwhelming emotion rises within me.
A soft inhale and a flutter of blinks keep from crying, though I do notice Soria lifting a handkerchief to her eyes as I continue down the aisle.
Even Ace seems to raise his hand and blot away the emotion.
Vale, standing there, the might of Caerhollan.
His broad shoulders pulled back, the lapel of his waistcoat accentuating his strong muscular chest, the cravat tugged almost imperceptibly loose around his neck.
I can almost feel the rise and fall of his chest. I focus in on his breathing.
Steady, sure. The same solid foundation I tethered myself to on nights that threatened to tear me apart.
He is my beacon in the storm. Everything else falls away.
Shafts of light beam down in golden columns from above. The sun streaming, illuminating the path ahead, at times almost blinding. Still, my attention is singular. Vale.
I do not notice the danger approaching until it is too late.
A dark figure charges toward me. Music stops. A collective gasp stills the air but does nothing to slow the assailant barrels right at me.
I am knocked to the ground before I even register the commotion. Heat sears at my chest, lungs empty, head ringing. Everything seizes inside me. Locked. I cannot see. Blackness takes over. No, not blackness. Blinding light.
“Mira!” The cry breaks through. There are chaotic noises all around, yet all I hear is him. “Mira, Mira, speak to me.” Hands pat across my body, arms wrap around me. In the distance, noises I can’t discern. Beyond the gasps, a scuffle. Crash and clatter. I fight to make sense of it but…
Heat. Everything is burning. I am burning. I can’t breathe. I try to lift my hands, to claw for air, but I am motionless. I cannot move, I cannot…
Crying. Vale.
I hear his quiet sob. I feel his arms wrapped around me.
No! I scream, but no sound escapes, my lips do not part. No. Not like this. Not when I finally have so much to live for.