Chapter 64 Harkin
Chapter sixty-four
Harkin
Aweight hung over the morning, denser than the fog which ghosted the sky above. It clung to the glass, lending to it an ethereal and almost eerie quality.
When the sun set on the day, I was supposed to marry Seren, the love of my life. The woman who had started as a mark—yet another person to deceive in a long line of crooked assignments. The woman who had seen my heart and taught me that I could choose the hard path.
I wanted to choose the hard path because she waited for me at the end of it.
Just a few months past, I had worn layers of masks upon my soul. Not a single person had seen me as I truly was. I moved from job to job, in interactions with Claudian and courtiers and my own family, donning different faces and personas.
I was an actor—and an excellent one, at that—able to mold myself into the shape others desired. They loved it. I was admired for it, but even more important, these falsehoods allowed me to run from my past.
I did not have to be the boy who killed an innocent man, trading his life for the health of my sister. I did not have to feel weak or scared any longer. I provided for my family.
It was not until Seren opened my eyes that I realized how close I had come to truly losing them. It hurt the most to know that, if I had, it would have been by my own doing. I had betrayed them in actions and in trust, but it had not been too late.
She had seen me, down to my core. To the wounds on my heart, unhealed and aching still. Yet she loved me anyway. Seren might not have said the words aloud to me, but I knew it—as surely as I knew my own feelings—that she loved me.
And yet, my very nightmare had come to light. I could have my family, or I could have the woman I loved. I did not know exactly what Claudian and the council would demand of me, but I did not see a world in which I would be granted the opportunity for both.
Though my gut roiled with anxiety, I dressed in the outfit that had been tailored specifically for the event.
It was multifaceted—a gorgeous black and blue ensemble, woven in a subtle floral pattern.
Embroidered moons and stars in shining silver thread glinted in the light.
It was as dangerous as it was beautiful; pockets and sheaths were sewn in throughout, holding blades in case we needed more than mágik in the fight ahead.
The orangery had been bedecked in all manner of whimsical decoration. Crystals fell from the domed glass roof in a waterfall of rainbow light. Vines and pale gossamer climbed up intricately carved pillars, and a woven metal archway stood at the front of the open space.
Soft petals trailed along the floor, falling elegantly from the flowers which were secured to the back of each chair. The seats were empty, alone among the finery, but they would soon be filled with guards in fine clothing.
I could not appreciate any of it, because the moment I stepped through the door, it was clear that I would not have a choice between Seren and my family.
I feared I would end the night having lost them all.
“Seren,” I breathed.
Seren sat on the stone floor, her limbs bound together, in the shadow of the one man I hoped I would never see again.
Claudian loomed, ever smug and menacing, his hand raised as he gestured to the council. They were lined up against the wall, dressed in their finery, with Yvett and Adina poised between them.
“Welcome.” Claudian smirked as he tightened his grip on Seren. I stepped forward instinctively, and Claudian tutted in disapproval. “It seems you’ve forgotten that I own you, mercenary. I brought your family here to remind you.”
“Don’t touch them,” I growled, jaw clenching and unclenching.
“Oh, I won’t,” the prince assured me, “as long as you follow my every direction.”
Claudian hauled Seren to her feet and shoved her at me. I caught her against my chest, hands caressing her face and the bloodied hair at her temple. I did not bother asking if she was alright. I could see in her eyes—as I knew she could in mine—that nothing about this was okay.
“Take her to the dais,” Claudian ordered. “The coronation will begin shortly.”
I did not move, fingers clutching Seren as I tried to make sense of the scene before me. I knew the council had supported this—they had told me as much—but to see it in reality was crushing.
“Araceli?” Claudian called.
The air wielder dug her talon-like fingernails into my mother’s arm, and she cried out.
“Alright!” I gasped. “Alright.”
I led Seren to the dais, which had been adored with an arch befitting the wedding we might have had.
“What do we do?” Seren whispered.
“I… I don’t know.” I knew my expression betrayed my fear, but I could not have hidden it from her even if I wanted to. “How can we possibly fix this?”
“I will not let them hurt your family, Harkin. I promise.” I nodded, but in truth, I did not know what she could do to save us this time.
Music began to play, soft strings and the faint sound of the piano from the next room over.
We hadn’t wanted the musicians to be in the orangery itself, as it would have put them at risk when the battle began.
But I couldn’t believe the music was playing at all, so discordant with the situation at hand.
Ayla appeared in the doorway on Théo’s arm, with Safiya close behind. The three of them froze when they saw Claudian and the council and Seren bound at my side.
“Ah,” Claudian observed. “I see the entire motley crew has arrived. Please, join us.”
The trio slipped past the prince and the council with hesitant steps. They rushed to Seren with concern on their faces, but I could not take my eyes off my mother and Adina. Araceli and Ignatius shoved them into the corner of the room, unbothered as they crashed into the wall.
“Harkin…” Adina whimpered, and I ached to go to her.
The council turned away, gathering around Prince Claudian as they spoke in hushed tones. Guards filed in, dressed in doublets and velvet, and took their places in the highbacked chairs.
“Harkin.” Seren brushed her hand across my jaw, turning me to face her. “We will free them.”
Her bindings were gone, no thanks to me. I rubbed my hands gently across the raw skin at her wrists. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Seren shook her head, stroking her fingers through the ends of my hair. “This is not your fault.”
Our eyes locked, and in hers—one soft gray and the other deep brown—I saw nothing but the swimming of unspent tears and unbridled affection, love and fear and hope.
“I wanted to marry you,” I whispered on a broken sob.
“You still can.”
“Ren…”
“No, please. Just listen.” Her eyes squeezed shut.
“Nothing is going to happen to your family. I swear it. We will make sure they escape unharmed. But I don’t know if the rest of us will make it out of this alive.
I want to marry you and bind my soul to yours in this life and the next.
If something happens, I want to be sure we’ll find each other again. ”
I nodded—against all odds, against my better judgement. My heart answered for me. I could never deny her. “Yes.”
Théo did not hesitate, beginning the traditional Acsillan marriage ceremony in a whisper. Mágik brimmed in his upturned hands.
My soul answered his call, rising like a swell in my chest.
I pulled Seren closer, my fingers trailing delicately over her hair. It was tangled and bloody. She was not dressed in a wedding gown, but in torn trousers and a bloodstained shirt. Yet I could not imagine a more incredible sight. I was ever caught by the pull of her gravity.
I traced the shape of her freckles, drawing them into a constellation for her name.
“Harkin, please recite the vows of the soul binding,” Théo directed. His hand cupped the back of my neck, mágik sparking like tiny lightning bolts.
“Seren, the first time we spoke, I realized I was so far out of my depth. You were infuriating—not because I could not stand you, but because I could not stay away. You saw straight through me, to my very core. I love you, Seren Corso Sgalier. I am in love with you. On this day, and for the rest of my days, I bind my mind, my heart, and my soul to yours. I wish to never be parted from you. Long after I breathe my last breath, in this life and the next, I am forever yours.” I had never found the words before, with anyone else, but for Seren they flowed off my lips as a pen upon parchment.
Flawless, easy, right.
Tears slipped over Seren’s cheeks, and I bent forward to kiss them away, forgetting everything save for her. It wasn’t until her thumbs trailed along my face that I realized I had been crying too.
“Harkin,” she whispered, her voice brimming with affection.
“I spent so many years guarding my heart, rejecting connection and intimacy for fear of heartbreak—of losing the one I love the most. I thought it better to feel nothing than to feel everything, but you have proven me wrong.
In every touch and glance and whispered conversation about the things I hold dear, you have accepted me.
I am not Ordelésan or Acsillan. I am neither and both, and you accepted me without hesitation.
“You once asked me who I loved unfathomably… The answer is you, Harkin Aranti. I love you unfathomably. So, on this day, and for the rest of my days, I bind my mind, my heart, and my soul to yours. I wish to never be parted from you. Long after I breathe my last breath, in this life and the next, I am forever yours.”
I drew Seren into my arms, holding her close.
My wife.
I captured her lips with my own, our breaths intermingling. I kissed her deeply, slowly—then ravenously, as if it were the very first time and as if it could be the very last.