70. Chapter Seventy
In the center of our private oasis is a wide, grassy area with an open purple tent.
Underneath are purple and blue carpets, with more pillows everywhere.
In the center is a wooden table, set low to the ground, with more pillows as seats.
On the surface are gold chargers and white plates, gold silverware, gold goblets, bottles of unopened femire, and candelabras with lit candles.
All around are pillared candles, with two chandeliers hanging from the tent top.
Lush ferns and vines fill the surfaces, creating an intimate and luxurious feel. Waitstaff watch us approach our family; everyone’s already here, joyous expressions lighting up their features. It’s a beautiful picture, filling me with a sense of happiness and peace.
Orliana’s wearing a red dress similar to my style, with her pendant dripping from her neck. Her dark skin glistens in the candlelight, and when she laughs, it’s like her whole body lights up. Fynn watches her, his deep love for her painted all over his face.
When his gold eyes flick to us, he stands with a grin. “Ah, the late lovebirds! Thanks for finally joining us!”
Laughing, I let him bundle me up in a big hug and watch him do the same for Trinte.
Motioning us to the table, Fynn says, “Come, come. We’ve been waiting to open the wine.”
Talia stands when we’re closer, wrapping her arms around me first. In my ear, she whispers, “You look stunning and so happy.”
“I am,” I murmur, my heart filled to bursting.
She kisses my forehead, then turns to Trinte. “Ah, my young champion. Come here, son.”
Trinte looks stunned when she hugs him close. Catching my gaze, I watch his eyes turn misty.
When he folds into the hug, closing his eyes, I hear him whisper, “Thank you.”
Biting my trembling lip — because it’s way too early for tears — I find a seat next to Joulian. Moxie’s stomping through the greenery in the center of the table, pretending to stalk Greg, Joulian’s familiar. The blue crow hops, knocking over a small ornamental gold ball.
“Joulian,” Orliana scolds. “Get your familiar off the table, now.”
Moxie chews on a leaf, flicking her little tail. Joulian gives the purple ugopeg a pointed look.
Orliana rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers. “Moxiellie, stop causing havoc and set a better example.”
The ugopeg promptly trots to Fynn’s glass of water and starts drinking from it. The red Dragon watches her with amusement, but far more focused on twirling a strand of Orliana’s hair around a finger.
Trinte sits next to me, leaning on a hip and resting an arm on his knee.
Grabbing a grape from a bowl, he pops it into his mouth and grins.
Now that we’re all seated, the waitstaff opens the bottles of femire.
Once everyone’s glasses are full — minus Joulian, who’s drinking sparkling femire — we cheers in celebration of Trinte’s success.
Dinner is lavish, with five courses. Much to Orliana’s delight, it’s a lot of garlic infused dishes. Dessert is a chocolate cake, which Trinte informs me is the same cake they ate at the Têasté during the Weyr reunion.
By the time we’re done eating, the two moons are rising in the sky and the quiet desert comes to life with the sound of wildlife. The waitstaff have cleared the table, leaving us with mint tea.
Fynn grabs his teacup and clinks a spoon against it, quieting us.
The golden eyed Dragon looks at us each.
“Today was an intense day, to say the least.” Everyone chuckles, because that’s an understatement.
“My brother had the privilege of glassing a mountain after slaying the beast.” He lifts the cup of tea. “To Trinte.”
We all do the same. “To Trinte.”
Fynn clears his throat, his demeanor suddenly nervous. “Three months ago, all of our lives changed. Two worlds collided, and all of it led to this exact moment.” He looks at Talia with a soft smile. “To gain a mother is a gift, but to gain a mother full of such compassion? Priceless.”
Joulian’s already sniffling when Fynn looks at him. “Having you in my life is a joy. I’m so blessed to hang out with you every day, buddy.”
Joulian nods wordlessly, face already crumpling. Talia wraps arms around him, smiling.
To Trinte, Fynn says, “My brother … you’ve saved my life more times than I count. Even when it was the darkest, you never wavered.” Fynn chokes up; suddenly, everyone is sniffling a little. After inhaling a shuddering breath, Fynn says, “I’m so proud of you.”
I place a hand on Trinte’s arm, watching his face twitch with unshed emotions. He feels my stare and returns it with a smile.
“To Kyrielle.” Fynn’s use of my name forces me to look away. My cheeks burn when he says, “You helped save my brother. You’ve kept Orliana safe. You’re as much my family as anyone else at this table.”
Catching a tear at my lashes before it can fall, I nod, unable to speak.
He turns to Orliana. She looks at him with glistening eyes. He sweeps her hair over her shoulder, scanning her face. My pulse picks up, and I reach for Trinte’s hand.
“To the woman who brought me back to life, I can never thank you enough for standing beside me in the darkest times. For never shying away from the hard things, no matter how much it hurts. For giving me your patience, trust, and love.”
Fynn reaches underneath some of the greenery, pulling out a small, velvet green box. Joulian gasps, and finally, I can’t hold back my tears. Orliana’s face twists in confusion; understanding dawns, shifting right into joy and shock.
“No!” she says, reaching for his arm. To stop him or steady herself, it’s unclear. He beams, revealing a dimple, as his fingers split the box, revealing a gold ring featuring a large princess cut ruby surrounded by onyx stones.
“Orliana Veritas, I know it’s fast. I know it hasn’t been long. But I learned a long time ago that life is short and you need to embrace every minute of joy possible. Will you be my wife?”
“YES!” she screams, flinging herself at him, toppling them both over.
I let out a laugh that’s close to a sob, tears fully streaming down my cheeks now.
There’s not a dry eye as Orliana lands loud smacking kisses all over her fiance’s face.
Trinte kisses my shoulder as his brother slides the ring on Orliana’s finger.
Moxie lands on Fynn’s forehead, stomping on it with joy. He laughs deeply, ducking from the affectionate attack.
Joulian sobs, then scrambles around the table. Fynn makes an oof! sound as Joulian flops onto his broad chest. “Does this mean you’re going to be my dad?!”
Fynn rests a hand against the boy’s dark hair. Rising onto an elbow, he says with a soft smile, “If you want, buddy. I’d be honored.”
“Okay!” Joulian sobs louder. Orliana piles on, and the three of them clutch one another tightly.
I snuggle into Trinte’s chest, enjoying the scene of happiness. I have no idea if he and I will ever get engaged or married. Something worth discussing — further in the future.
When they’re all sitting up, a melodic voice behind us says, “Well, that was perfect!”
Luca and Reverie come out from the shadows, cameras in hand. Orliana shrieks and stands, yanking Fynn up with her.
“You did not!” She points at Luca. “I can’t believe you kept this a secret!”
She whirls onto Trinte and me. “You! Did you know?!”
I raise a hand, my other one holding Trinte’s. “Guilty as charged. The food was from the caterer we tried out weeks ago.”
She rushes over to give us both hugs, then immediately globs back onto Fynn’s arm. Orliana giggles, slapping Fynn’s arm. “You little sneak!” She rushes over to the photographers, giving them big hugs. “Oh, please tell me you’ll photograph our wedding! You have to!”
Luca chuckles, his huge frame swallowing her in a hug. “We’d be honored to be there.”
After hugging Reverie, Orliana motions to the table. “Come! Sit! Have a glass of femire!”
Luca’s forced to sit in a raised chair to accommodate his wings, and Reverie sits in a chair next to him. When fresh femire’s poured, we all toast. It’s been agony, hiding this from my best friend, but her reaction has made it all worth it.
After a few minutes of introducing Talia and Joulian to the photographers, we catch them up on the day’s events. Reverie eyes Trinte’s hand connected to mine. “So, I see the two of you finally gave in?”
My cheeks heat as Trinte huffs out a laugh. “You could say that.”
She exchanges a smug look with Luca. “Pay up.”
The Gargoyle raises an eyebrow. “I believe we bet on inappropriate things as prizes. Not audience worthy.”
Reverie glances at Joulian, then bites her lips together. Luca pats her thigh, and his tail wraps possessively around her ankle, giving it a little tug. I hear her inhale sharply, but Luca’s already focused on Fynn and Orliana.
“As soon as you both know the date, let us know. We’re pretty booked up, and I want to make sure we can fit you in.”
“How long have you been married?” Orliana says, eyeing the set of rings on Reverie’s finger. “When we saw one another at the battle, I never had a chance to ask.”
“The longest year of my life,” Reverie says dryly. The tail tugs more sharply on her ankle, and she laughs, bumping her shoulder against him affectionately.
Wax covers the table as the candles die out one by one. Soon, everyone is yawning. Joulian is the first to declare he wants to go to bed, so after hugs, he and Talia head to their bungalow. Luca and Reverie leave, with him throwing her over a shoulder. She giggles, grabbing his tail and licking it.
I wonder if that would work with Trinte?
Finally, it’s just the four of us finishing our femire. With a few sips left, Trinte says, “I’m deeply grateful for today.”
Orliana, staring at her ring with wonder, says, “Meeee too.” We all laugh; she looks up. “What?”
“I’m glad you love the ring,” Fynn says, kissing her temple. To his brother, he says, “What was it like, glassing the mountain?”
Trinte grins. “Incredible. I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Fynn matches the grin. “Me, too.”
Orliana juts a finger at him. “Do not think you can just go challenging someone.”
“Wouldn’t dream about it, future wife.” She visibly melts at the term. Then they’re both lost in a passionate kiss that has me looking away.
“Ready for bed?” Trinte murmurs.
At the scene unfolding on the cushions across from us, I huff out, “Yes, please.”
Without saying goodbye, we leave the two newly engaged lovers to do whatever they plan on doing and head back to our bungalow.
Within ten minutes, Trinte and I are tangled limbs in bed. He’s settled between my thighs, slowly thrusting and kissing me like my oxygen is his. As my sixth orgasm of the day slowly approaches, gently coaxed into existence from his tender love making, I let out a sigh of joy.
Cupping my head, rocking into me, he says, “What’s that for?”
Bringing my hands to his face, roving my fingers over his cheeks and jaw, I whisper, “I’d climb out of every single one of our graves just to have the chance to plant flowers with you.”
His smile, the one reserved just for me, increases my pulse. Lips hovering right above mine, he murmurs, “I love you, graves and all, Firefly.”