THE HAPPILY
PENNY
The farm had never been so beautiful.
The land spread out around us, bathed in sunshine and blanketed by a blue sky.
People spread around us too. Dozens of our friends and family members gathered, standing in uneven rows and all turned toward Ben, who stood before Kit and me, ready to bind our lives together with words older than any of us.
Behind Ben, the sunflowers were in full bloom. The dense green stalks stretched overhead, topped with bright yellow petals like sunbeams. The perfect backdrop to the picture of my forever.
Kit’s hands curled around mine, his palms clammy with sweat.
But I clung on, holding his fingers and his gaze and seeing the promises before he voiced them.
Vows he’d already made, devotion he’d given every day since we met.
Looking back now, I fancied the thought that he’d always loved me at least a little bit.
What other madness would convince a man to abandon his home and life and lead a stranger across the province to certain death?
Kit wanted to do right in all things, but most of all, he wanted to do right by me. And he had. He did. And I knew he would. Confirming as much in front of a crowd of well-wishers was merely a formality. A tradition.
But, gods, I did love weddings.
I bounced on my toes, my heart too full for stillness while I tried—and failed—to school my expression into something suitably solemn while Ben cleared his throat and lifted his hands to begin.
“Before these witnesses and before the gods,” his deep voice rumbled, “we join two souls and bind their fates as one.”
The crowd quieted, the only sound the wind moving through the sunflowers and the chirp of distant birds.
Ben’s words fell so steady and sure I was positive he must have practiced them.
When we’d asked months ago if he would oversee, he’d been nervous, claiming he’d never done this before, but you wouldn’t know it now.
At his prompting, Kit and I changed our grip, clasping wrists instead of hands. I dragged my thumb over the chain I’d presented to Kit after last year’s harvest, the last bit of silversmithing Warren ever did.
We were already tethered. Already bound. But I would take any chance I could find to make Kit all the more mine.
Ben motioned next to the onlookers, specifically to my mother, who stood near the front in her finest dress.
Tears shone on her cheeks, but she smiled as she came forward with a length of cream ribbon in her hands. When she arrived beside Kit and I, she gripped his elbow and turned him toward her.
“It is an honor to gain a son today, and a blessing to see Penny so cherished.” Her face was somber, but far from sad. Kit’s throat bobbed with a swallow as he looked down at her, his profile aglow in the afternoon sun.
“You are the answer to prayers, Kit,” Mother continued, then nodded to me “His and mine.” She pulled him down and kissed his forehead, then turned to me.
“Penny, it has been my privilege to watch you grow into the man before me today. I’ve no doubt you’ll continue to live a life of honor and love.
I’m so terribly proud of you.” She wavered a bit this time, reaching for me the same way she had Kit.
Before she got hold, I released Kit’s wrist and threw my arms around her, dragging her into a tight embrace.
She sobbed once against me, clutching the ribbon in the tight space between us.
“Your father would be proud too,” she whispered.
I dipped my head to kiss her cheek, tasting the salt from her tears before she pulled back.
Kit and I renewed our hold, wrist to wrist and arms braced.
Ben wasn’t the only one who’d practiced.
I’d made Kit rehearse this night after night, though I’d kept my vows to myself. Those would be special, spoken once and with all the devotion in my heart.
Once our grip was sure, Mother wrapped the ribbon carefully around our wrists. She lifted her hands to her lips and kissed them, then pressed them to our cheeks.
“Thank you,” I mouthed to her, and she nodded while blinking watery eyes.
She returned to her place, and I faced Kit again.
He was as dashing as ever. Buttoned up in brown and black brocade that made his eyes look rich and impossibly deep. He stood tall, back straight and shoulders squared, and I decided he must have been proud, too. Of us.
Ben lifted his ribbon—simple linen dyed blue—and draped it over the one Mother had used to join our hands. Kit’s fingers twitched beneath mine, his thumb brushing against my skin, a quiet promise that steadied me even as my heart thudded like a drum.
“With this cord,” Ben said, looping it once, then twice around our wrists, “you are bound not by law or by land, but by choice. By the keeping of one another.”
I swallowed hard and blinked against the sting in my eyes. Breath caught in my lungs, going stale as I rehearsed the promise I’d made to myself not to cry.
“May the seasons turn kindly upon you,” Ben continued, his voice softening, “and may your bond hold fast through storm and harvest alike.”
He looked between us then, and a knowing glint lit his eyes. “Speak your hearts, if you wish.”
Kit’s breath hitched, and despite the breeze and the birds and the people clustered around us, that was the only sound I heard.
He leaned in until his forehead nearly touched mine.
“Penwell Oliver, I don’t belong to you, but with you, for every day that I have left, and what is mine will always be yours.
I will spend every night by your side, and be the first thing you see when you wake. ”
His fingers tightened around my wrist, not needing any cord or ribbon to hold them there.
“You will have my first, and my best, and I will gladly keep you for all of your days. You have my life, and you have had my death, and you will have everything that comes after. We are partners, always. Equals, to the end. This is my vow to you, my husband.”
My promise to make it through this with dry eyes was broken long before he finished speaking. I wasn’t sure how Kit endured it without even a lip wobble. He smiled, still so close I could feel the warmth of his breath, and I straightened back long enough to mop my shirt sleeve across my face.
“Gods, I should’ve gone first,” I sputtered, already choked.
Soft laughter rippled through the crowd as I tried to get my wits about me.
I’d known my vows for months. I started writing them the day we returned to Forstford and began building this life.
They were a promise I’d put into practice, long before today, because I simply couldn’t wait for this moment.
Now it was here, and I finally had my chance show Kit everything I hoped he already saw in me.
To tell him all the things I prayed he already knew.
Despite the urge to throw myself into his arms, I kept my footing steady and my spine straight. My eyes were lined with tears, but focused, and I swallowed down a swell of emotion to speak before I was overcome again.
“Kit Mosel, I vow to you the first and best I have to give. Every morning when I wake, it will be for you. Every night when I cry out, it will only be your name.”
Kit’s face darkened with blush, and my stoic mask cracked in a smile. I stepped into him then, chest to chest and hands gripped so hard between us they’d begun to tingle.
“I will be a shield for your back as you are for mine,” I told him. “Your partner and protector. And beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life and into the next, my forever darling.”
Kit’s thick lashes fluttered, beading up with tears that made me almost giddy. I wanted to kiss the wobbly smile off his lips, but there was a bit more to be done to seal our union, and I wouldn’t forestall that for anything.
I loosened my fingers, cueing Kit to do the same, and we drew back, sliding our arms apart and pulling the twin ribbons into a tight knot.
Beside us, Ben wiped his own damp face and declared, “Then before all gathered, and before the gods who keep watch, your hands are fasted. What you hold now, hold always.”
The crowd erupted in cheers, and the sunflowers bowed in the breeze as if they, too, were celebrating.
Kit and I turned to face our friends and family, the ribbons held high between us.
I wanted to jump or run or spin until the world blurred, but before I could move, Kit caught me.
His arms wrapped around me and lifted until only my toes brushed the ground.
With his hands firm at my waist, I framed his face with both palms and dove in for a lingering kiss.
He was blushing again by the time I freed him to take a breath, and he set me down just as the onlookers began to approach.
I could count on Sayla to lead the pack, dragging Warren along while cradling her newborn to her chest.
“Well, you’ve gone and done it now, Kit,” she said, smiling wide. “Made my brother the happiest man in the province.”
Kit hugged me to his hip so we could face them side by side.
“It’s only fair I should return the favor,” he replied.
“Pen tells me you two may soon be following my lead in this area as well.” She nodded to the infant sleeping peacefully in her arms, a baby girl she named Cinna.
Kit hiked a brow at me, and his lips chased it with a bemused smirk. “Spreading that around, are we?”
It still felt like a dream. When Sayla first wrote to us last winter that we were going to be uncles, I’d been happy for her. She was building the life she’d dreamed about since she was a girl. Building a family.
Even still, there was a twinge of jealousy there for the children I was certain I’d never have. But I had Kit, and Ember and Nutmeg—not to mention the handful of other animals we collected over the months—and that was a kind of family, too. It was enough, and I was content.
Until Kit plucked Sayla’s letter out of my hands and tucked himself up close to me and said he’d like to give her the same news someday, that she was going to be an aunt.
“We’ve had some good practice taking in strays already,” he’d said as he mopped the resulting tears off my face.
“There are plenty of kids in need of a home, too.”
I didn’t think there was a single dream of mine that this man couldn’t make come true.
I squeezed closer to Kit and wrung the knotted ribbons between my hands. “I had to tell someone!”
Sayla laughed and shifted Cinna higher against her shoulder before holding her out toward Kit. “Well, you may as well start practicing. I could use a rest.”
Kit froze, wide-eyed, as the tiny bundle was carefully pressed into his arms. He released me to adjust his hold, settling the baby close to his chest.
We’d seen her a bit, even held her in the days we’d been here preparing for the wedding, but Kit was ever enthralled. He moved subtly side-to-side, staring down at Cinna’s peaceful face and brushing back the tufts of her pale blonde hair.
I took it all in: the farm, our family gathered around us, my husband cradling the child who looked like hope itself. It was a glimpse of everything I’d ever wanted, all the pieces of a future I’d barely dared to dream.
But I wasn’t dreaming. I was awake—alive—and seeing more clearly than I ever had.
And when I looked at Kit, he was already looking back. Even with the newborn nestled in his arms, his eyes found mine and held fast, as if to say, This is only the beginning.