Page 149

I snorted. “Sure, Thief. You’re terribly fearsome.”

In truth, I was certain my king was a little frightened of Gwyn when she had a plan, and by the look in her eyes, she was not opposed to maiming the king.

Kage abandoned our chamber with a final look over his shoulder. Those dark eyes burned with a thrill, but also apprehension. I could understand the feeling. If one damn thing went wrong to interrupt this day, I was certain I’d combust.

Once the door closed, Gwyn faced me, the same determination carved on her face. “As for you. Get washed, then you belong to me.”

“You’re scary.”

“Good. Go.”

Palace bells rang out hours later. I’d been soaked in a honey and wildflower bath, offered chopped fruit to ease my nervous stomach. Gwyn had braided my hair and added combs with chipped emeralds crusted on the edges. Somewhere in the chaos of painting lips, tying bodices, and pinning hair, Torie and my grandmother joined.

Gaina fastened a silver necklace around my throat. She hugged my shoulders from behind, peering at me in the mirror. “This was your mother’s when she wed your father.”

I smiled at her, fingering the teardrop charm in the center. “I miss them.”

Gaina held in her hands two violet stones. “Ah, but they are here, Sweet Iron. Do you not feel the joy?”

True enough there was a burn in the room, gentle and subtle, but there all the same.

My grandmother leaned close to whisper. “By the by, do you still have those spells I wrote out for you all those seasons ago?”

A flush teased my cheeks. “Yes, Mam. You know, they’ve been read by many.”

“Then there will be a great deal of happy lovers in the land.” She patted my cheek. “I care little who reads, so long as my boy understands how to treat my girl.”

Pleasure spells and declarations that love could draw out the fiercest power had been penned by Gaina when Kage and I were to be wed the first time. Tucked with the missives between battletorn lovers—mine and Kage’s words—we’d kept them all, locked in a box inside our chambers to remember all that had happened to bring us here.

Once Torie helped Gwyn finish braiding my hair, they topped my head in a crown of pink blossoms and sprigs of glossy ferns.

By the time Markus arrived—clad in a fine blue tunic and polished black boots—the sun was setting over the knolls.

“You are beautiful, sweet girl,” Markus said, holding out his arm.

I smoothed the silver lace along my full gown and gripped his elbow. “Thank you. This has been a long time coming.”

Gaina threaded her arm on my opposite side. “Then let’s not waste another damn moment.”

The outer lawns of Briar Keep were transformed. Trees glittered like starlight with silver light spells that flickered lazily as though overtaken in fireflies. Lanterns were strewn over walls, satin runners lined the grass, and ribbon tied flowers marked the backs of every seat.

Markus led us to a mossy path where spell coated flowers burst in shocks of gold when shadows crossed in front. It was a fairy tale.

Once we rounded a bend in the path, a curtain of willow branches split on its own and opened to the crowd seated in the wooden chairs.

Mages from Myrkfell wore grassy headdresses with twigs and spruce limbs. Their clothes bore more furs and their cheeks were pinker with the approaching Frostfell winds. Seers from the Sanctuary were in place humming their prayers of well wishes in their fine burgundy cloaks. But those who mattered most were seated in the front.

Gwyn was nestled with her family and Queen Torie. They’d spent the day preparing me, but they glittered in satin gowns and crystals in their hair.

Cy and Hugo boasted their Soturi ranks—freshly pressed dark tunics, gold hilted blades on their hips, all brawn and strength and bawdy mutterings as we approached. Hakon perched beside Cy on the empty seat.

My heart cinched. We’d left it empty on purpose, a symbol for Asger, a hope he might at last make himself known.

I was certain most everyone was as lovely as the sunrise, but I could not peel my eyes from the man beneath the vine wrapped bower. Much like me, Kage had been stuffed into finery, had his hair tousled and braided on the sides, the front of his throat was inked in temporary runes. and his eyes were lined in kohl, small nudges to his status as a battle mage king.

Markus and Gaina led me to his side and he pressed a gentle kiss to my knuckles as an old, withered seer stepped forward with a headdress made of tangled twigs and leaves.

“It is customary to speak a vow to the goddess,” said the seer, but stopped when Kage held up a hand.