CHAPTER 49
THE HOUSE OF THORNE
They healed what was broken. For peace, they sacrificed.
It was the morning of her wedding. Kara woke to an empty bed.
For an instant, panic rose–
Gone, he’s gone–
Her gaze fell on the ivory gown hanging near the window – waiting for her. The morning sunlight spilled across the fabric, making the crimson and emerald flowers glitter gently.
It’s real.
Reason returned. She remembered now. It was tradition.
Bride and groom don’t share a chamber the night before.
She’d forced herself to do it. Sebastian hadn’t been happy, but she couldn’t be by his side every moment forever.
She reached for their bond – it pulsed with warmth, steady and glowing in her chest. He was there.
They’d been practicing sending thoughts across it, without Caldris magic, without pain in their scars, and had been getting better at it.
I’m awake, she whispered down their connection. Checking for cold feet?
His reply came quick and certain, rough with affection. Never. Though I’d kill to be beside you right now.
It’s tradition, remember, she teased softly. I can’t cling forever.
Tradition be damned, came his grumble, fierce and unrepentant. But I’ll wait.
Just a few more hours, she assured him.
I’ll hold you to that, Lady Thorne, he answered.
The title sent a rush of joy through her.
By tonight, it would be true. She was still smiling when the first bell rang.
Then the second. There were footsteps in the corridor – many footsteps, approaching fast. The door flew open before she even rose from her bed, her mother sweeping in with Alys and Sienna at her side.
Rowan and Saffra weren’t far behind. They were all talking at once, correcting, rearranging, laughing.
It was chaos. Delightful, wonderful chaos.
The Keep came alive; bells rang, voices echoed off stone, servants hurried past with trays and ribbons and flowers. Dressers darted in and out, carrying reams of silks whilst maids trailed behind, arms laden with crimson blossoms.
This is really happening.
Kara hardly had time to breathe before she was pulled into the middle of it all.
Rowan and Alys claimed her first, seating her before the mirror.
Rowan’s deft fingers wove a delicate crown of braids – the style of Thorne brides – whilst Alys threaded narrow plaits down the length; a Hale custom.
Alys pinned crimson and emerald flowers into the braids, so it shimmered with both fire and forest. Hale and Thorne entwined.
They left much of her dark hair loose, tumbling in soft waves down her back.
When they were done, Kara laid a hand on her hair in wonder.
It was a far cry from the simple braid she usually wore.
It was Saffra’s turn next. She placed a tiny pot of balm into Kara’s hand, smiling broadly. “A touch of rose, nothing more. You’ll look radiant.”
Kara wrinkled her nose. “Radiant or ridiculous?”
“Radiant,” Saffra said, dabbing the faint stain across her lips before Kara could say a word. “Trust me.”
Sienna poked her head out from around a bouquet she was arranging, her voice deliberately soothing. “Let her do it, Kara. It’s the custom. Besides–” she smiled knowingly, “Sebastian won’t stop staring at you either way.”
Kara gave a small sigh of surrender, stilling long enough for Saffra to add a hint of berry at her cheeks and a touch of kohl to her lashes.
Her mother came up behind her. “Oh, Kara,” Eliyana said tearfully. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”
Kara reached for her hand. “Thank you, Mother.”
Rowan was the first to break the hush, smirking as she leaned against the table. “Gods above, if anyone had told me three months ago my brother would be marrying the Hale girl sent to drag him back to the gallows, I’d have laughed them straight out of Thorne.”
Sienna snorted. “It’s still hilarious that the Council really thought this one would bring him back in chains.”
Kara’s face burned. “Please don’t remind me.”
“Oh, I will,” Rowan said sweetly. “I heard you knocked him on his arse before his charm won you over.”
“We are not talking about that,” Kara moaned, covering her face with both hands. “Absolutely not.”
“I did say he was nice to look at,” Alys added with a grin. “I take full credit for pointing that out at the Arcalon.”
“It was the Fire Trial, wasn’t it?” Sienna said, her tone mock-serious as she placed a final flower in the bouquet. “That’s when it happened. He threw himself into the flames for you, and you thought: yes, that’s the man I’ll marry.”
“That was not what I thought!” Kara protested hotly, but Sienna just arched a brow at her.
“Of course it was,” Saffra teased, nudging her shoulder. “We’ve all seen the way you two look at each other. Even back at the Arcalon. You never stood a chance.”
“I regret inviting every single one of you,” Kara grumbled.
“Too late,” Rowan said smugly. “We’re your family now.”
“I’m doomed,” Kara muttered, though her voice was warm with laughter.
Eliyana clapped her hands once, her smile bright with amusement. “Enough teasing, girls. The dress! It’s nearly time.”
Alys and Sienna exchanged a quick, excited glance, already reaching for the gown hung in the window.
Rowan and Saffra swooped in to help, laughter and orders cutting over each other as they eased Kara into the ivory lace, fastening buttons and smoothing layers.
The whole room buzzed around her. At last, Sienna pressed the bouquet into her hands.
Crimson blooms spilled over her fingers, the colour vivid and beautiful.
Kara turned towards the mirror for a final glance – and hardly recognised herself.
Not the Healer, or a warrior, not the Council’s prisoner, or the girl who had stumbled, broken, through grief.
A bride.
Sebastian Thorne’s bride.
The woman she had always meant to be.
Arcanth, thank you. Thank you for giving him back to me. I will be forever grateful.
The answer came, unexpected and ancient, resonating through her bones.
The Arcanth stands witness.
The Healer. The Warrior.
Kara gasped, gripping the bouquet tighter as the warmth of the blessing flooded her.
The Arcanth had spoken. To her. On her wedding day.
To bless their union. She bowed her head in awe, in respect.
And then it was gone, so quickly it was like she’d imagined it.
But she knew she hadn’t – the warmth still lingered.
She didn’t say anything to the others. That message had been for her.
She would tell Sebastian later, but for now, she held it close.
The bells tolled. It was time.
They walked together towards the great hall, where the guests and her husband-to-be waited.
Saffra peeked in to make sure Sebastian was safely sequestered behind the doors before allowing Kara to continue down the corridor.
She and Rowan slipped into the hall to take their seats, leaving Kara with her mother and her witnesses.
Sienna and Alys were radiant in their matching crimson gowns, faces alight with love and joy.
Kara’s chest ached with gratitude. She’d chosen well.
Her mother gathered her into a final embrace. “I know you’ll be happy, Kara. And I’m so happy for you.”
Kara’s smile faltered as she pulled away. “I wish Father agreed.”
Her mother’s mouth thinned. “Yes, so do I. I’ve told him – argued, pleaded, but your father... once he decides, he is stone. I fear nothing will move him now.”
The hurt must have shown on her face because her mother said hurriedly, “But I am not him. I will never turn my back on you, Kara. Whatever comes, you’ll always have me.”
“And me,” Alys said, touching her arm lightly.
“I know,” Kara said softly, then asked her mother, “You’ll walk with me?”
Eliyana’s eyes filled with tears as she took her arm. “It would be my very great honour, Karalynna.”
Kara steadied herself with a deep breath. The carved oak doors loomed before her. Beyond them, her future waited. Her stomach filled with butterflies. Hands trembled with nerves. It was madness; she was more nervous now than she had been at their Soulbonding.
That wasn’t in front of hundreds of people though.
His voice came, steady and sure. I’m waiting.
She smiled, despite the nerves. I’m here.
And then the doors opened.
Sebastian had faced armies, the Council, stood knee-deep in blood, and not flinched.
But standing at the front of a very full Thorne great hall, waiting for Kara Hale, even with his father at his side, he almost couldn’t breathe.
He wore the ceremonial garb of his House – a formal black court coat and trousers with silver detail, a crimson cape clasped at his shoulder.
No sword. Weapons were forbidden at weddings.
He didn’t like that part. He felt naked without steel at his hip.
His hand kept twitching towards the hilt of a blade that wasn’t there.
But he’d relented.
Damn tradition.
He’d tied his dark hair neatly back, his face now clean-shaven.
So different from the fugitive she’d chased through forests and camped beside in mud and abandoned barns.
He almost looked like a lord again. Kara had been right, it seemed like half the realm had turned up.
Even Hale healers had come. Sebastian had caught sight of them that morning, slipping quietly into the Keep.
They’d defied Alaric’s decree. Come for Kara anyway.
It was more than he’d dared hope for. They stood hidden at the back of the hall, their green cloaks a quiet rebellion, though they hadn’t said a word to him.
Kara had no idea they were here. He was looking forward to the moment she saw them, when she realised not all of Hale had abandoned her.
Tobias clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Your mother would be proud.” Sebastian turned, startled, meeting his father’s gaze. There was unmistakable pride there. Then he added, gruff as ever, “Now stand tall, boy. Face her like a Thorne.”
And Godsdamnit, he straightened at the words.
The doors opened.