Page 80 of Faeling (Monstrous World #4)

Molly blinked up at her with watery eyes. Her brilliant smile almost blinded Ravenna, and Molly threw her arms around her, catching her in a tight embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered back.

“Not the veil!” Hilde yelped.

Molly released her, wiping at a stray tear. Still smiling, she helped Hilde straighten all the nonexistent creases in the long veil.

The royal quarters quickly returned to chatter and giggles. Asta kept the jokes and teasing flowing while Eydis dutifully kept Ravenna fed. Molly and Hilde worked their magic, and by the time the afternoon sun began to saturate the rooms, Ravenna was ready.

Heart full, she took a moment to soak in the cheeriness and love.

Had she ever seen what her life would be like now, surrounded by friends and love, she likely wouldn’t have believed it. Perhaps that was why she never saw visions beyond defeating Amaranthe. Perhaps, however strangely, her gift knew she had to discover it for herself first.

Whatever the truth, Ravenna was grateful. For her friends. For her new life. And most especially for the handsome orc awaiting her.

The sun blazed through the tall windows of Ninevar’s Basilica, drenching the red limestone in shafts of glorious color. Hundreds of orc-kin crowded between the columns, eager for a glimpse of the new queen.

None more so than Vallek. Standing before his throne on the dais, his heart pounded a little harder in his chest as horns blew, announcing her arrival.

A hush fell over the crowd, all leaning forward for that first peek.

Orcish paladins and denizens made up most of the ranks, but a few different faces underscored how much Balmirra had evolved.

Near the dais, standing with Eydis, Hilde, and Asta, were the fae Allarion and his human mate Molly.

To their left, a whole contingent of unicorns, Oberon at their head, all cloaked in velvet and brocade.

It made for an already unprecedented sight—and then, from the far side of the basilica, she emerged.

Shafts of light from the window behind him haloed her in a warm glow, making her shine like the rising moon.

A gown of silver silk draped artfully from her lithe form, billowing sleeves reaching almost to the floor and cascading behind her with a long train.

Subtly embroidered with flowers and unicorns in white thread, the fabric moved like water, rippling in a current that brought her ever closer to him.

Vallek descended the steps to meet her, entranced by the ethereal beauty come to bless him.

Dazzling as a diamond and shining even brighter, her lilac skin shimmered opalescent.

Hundreds of crystals sewn into the gown caught the light, as did the teardrop bobs dangling from her ears and the waterfall of diamonds dripping down her elegant neck.

Some of her long tresses had been secured with pearl-encrusted pins, while the rest hung unbound to wave behind her.

From the dark cascade fell a long veil, gleaming gossamer lined in the finest lace.

The veil spread behind her along the length of the basilica, a slithering wisp of fabric that contrasted her dark hair and iridescent purple wings.

He didn’t know how she’d managed it, but little diamond and silver bobs hung from the points of her wings, tinkling as she moved. All-Mother, she was a goddess incarnate, blessing the very stones she walked upon.

All of his breath had fled his lungs by the time she stood before him. He hurried to fill them again, catching her scent of jasmine and cloves. A rumbling purr rattled in his chest as he offered her his hand.

A shy smile touched her rouged lips, and she slid her hand into his.

Vallek watched as her eyes went distant, and for a moment she didn’t move. It’d been so long since he saw her have a vision, he’d almost forgotten what it looked like.

After a moment, though, she was back with him. He lifted a brow in question, but she smiled wider, a comely blush stained her cheeks. His purr deepened; he couldn’t wait to hear what she’d seen.

Hand in hand, they mounted the dais steps. Her veil swept down behind them, a waterfall of glistening elegance.

They turned to face each other, and Vallek smiled down at his beautiful bride.

Gods, he was the luckiest bastard alive.

There were a handful of moments when the crowd stood silently, anxiously awaiting the rites, but Vallek wasn’t hurried by their anticipation. No, he wouldn’t be rushed. He intended to savor this day and the sight she made.

Lifting their joined hands, he kissed her knuckles.

“You’re more beautiful than the moon,” he murmured.

Another lavender blush colored her cheeks. “Do I look like a queen?” she whispered back.

Vallek’s answering smile was ferocious. “Oh, yes, sprite. Every bit. Down to your slippered toes.”

Taking up a little pot of ochre, Vallek popped off the lid and dipped a finger into the pigment.

Cupping her head so, so gently, he carefully used the ochre to paint a line across one cheek.

“For you.” Another line on her other cheek.

“For your kin.” And, with his heart in his throat, the third line across her forehead.

“For me. Before the Ever-Father and our kin gathered today, I stand before you, to take as your husband.”

Her chest rising with a nervous breath, Ravenna dipped her own finger into the pot.

Painting the first line across his left cheek, she said, “For you,” and then the second across his right, “For your kin.” She lifted onto her toes and Vallek bent so she could mark him with the final line.

“For me. Before the All-Mother and our kin gathered today, I stand before you, to take as your wife.”

Joining hands again, Vallek asked, “Will you take me, sprite?”

“Yes.” Her soft little hands squeezed his. “Will you take me?”

“Oh, yes.” And cradling her hands against his chest, he pulled her to him to seal their bargain with a kiss.

The crowd erupted in cheers, filling the basilica with noise. They clapped and stomped and hooted—and although it rang in Vallek’s ears, he could hardly hear it past the blood rushing there.

A little peck wasn’t enough, he greedily kissed his wife, telling her how he’d missed her today, how proud he was to stand beside her, how he would crawl to her on his belly if she ever asked, and most of all, how grateful he was to be hers.

They’d just begun to earn a few chuffs of amusement at the length and depth of their kiss when Vallek finally pulled back. Satisfied to see her rosebud lips swollen from the kiss—and in no doubt that his were now redder with her rouge—he whispered, “Are you ready?”

Grinning up at him, her violet eyes sparkling, she whispered back, “Make me your queen.”

Rumbling with pride, Vallek motioned for an attendant left of the dais to step forward. Lifting the lid of the box the attendant bore, Vallek picked up the crown he’d had made for her. Not a coronet, not a tiara or diadem. This was a crown, made for a queen, to be worn by once and future queens.

Their line, now into the future, crowned by her blood and his.

He presented her with it, a circle of gold with artful spires all studded with amethysts and rubies. Bowing her head, she accepted the weight as he placed the crown upon her head.

When she lifted her gaze to his, her eyes sparkled as brightly as the two ribbons of diamonds that dangled from either side of the crown.

Gods, it almost didn’t seem real. All he’d planned, all he’d worked and fought for—he gazed upon it all now, saw everything he could ever want or hope for reflected in her eyes.

Be it the gods, fate, destiny, he didn’t care who had blessed him, just that he was blessed to have her.

A gift, a partner, a wife. She was and would be everything to him.

Together, they turned to face the cheering crowd. Over the din, Vallek proclaimed, “Your queen!”

Thunderous shouts and stomps met his declaration.

“Queen Ravenna!”

“Queen Ravenna!” they cheered back.

“King Vallek!” she cried.

“King Vallek!” they called. “All hail their names!”