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Story: Fawn

The arrival of my sisters, along with Fawn’s friends, Luna and Petunia, sets my heart pounding with anticipation. They slip into the front row. Persa joining her mates. Estelle beside them. Luna takes her place beside her fearsome orc mate and the young boy with his father’s coloring, who grins up at his grandmother and mother.

Estelle offers me a small, encouraging smile and a nod.

Gods. Why am I so nervous?

It’s not like she will suddenly change her mind… will she?

A trumpet sounds, and the grand double doors at the entrance open.

There she is. Fawn. Such a simple name, yet it perfectly encapsulates everything that she is, and that quickly, all my worries fade away.

Sweet and beguiling.

Ravishing.

Saucy and playful.

All ours.

She enters, flanked by Jude and Nox. Behind come Eiden and Gideon.

Her whimsical dress is made of pale gold silk—the color matching my suit—encrusted with jewels that sparkle in the sunlight streaming down from the grand hall’s high, domed ceiling. Her long, luscious hair is intricately curled and likewise sparkles.

Yet it is her eyes, those pretty brown eyes shining with love, that capture and command my gaze.

Under the fanfare of trumpets, she glides toward me, past bowing nobles and dignitaries. There is a blush on her cheeks. Her smile is a little wobbly. My love is nervous too.

Nox passes her hand to me with a bow and steps back to join her other mates.

I bring her hand to my lips. “You look beautiful, my love.”

Fawn

The celebrant steps forward to address the hushed crowd, and the ceremony begins.

I repeat the worlds of acceptance, of joining, of taking the responsibility of being a queen.

Not once does Seven relinquish my hand, which trembles within his.

The event feels unreal, like I’ve stepped outside myself and am watching from afar. So, it comes as a surprise when I realize the ceremony is reaching its climax. The celebrant takes the first crown from a velvet cushion and places it upon Seven’s head, an ornate golden scrolling design filled with gems.

Another crown, the same but smaller, is waiting on the second velvet cushion.

Seven takes this one.

“I, Seven, the firstborn of Cranston, Master Stag, and the seventh coming of Cernunnos, claim Fawn as my queen.”

Crown in his hands, he carefully sets it atop my head.

It has surprising weight.

He leans in to kiss each cheek and then lightly upon my lips. He smiles. Taking my hand within his, he turns me to face the waiting crowd. “I present to you, your queen, Queen Fawn!”

The crowd cheers. “All hail Queen Fawn! All hail Queen Fawn!”