Page 74 of House of Embers (Royal Houses #5)

Chapter Sixty-Five

The Wedding

“My work here is done,” Parris said as he did up the last button on the back of her dress.

Thankfully, Parris’s shop had been unharmed in Artisan Village in all the chaos with the Red Masks. And he had gladly agreed to make her wedding dress. He’d wanted months, and Kerrigan had laughed in his face. No way was she waiting that long.

“Thank you, friend.”

“Give us a twirl.”

Kerrigan turned in a circle before the trifold mirror. The gown was exceptional—a tulle strapless number with off-the-shoulder sleeves that hung loose around her arms. The bodice was corseted, with tiny cream Corsican sunflowers sewn across the boning and down the full tulle skirt.

Benton and Bayton had spent hours on her unruly hair to make it into the elaborate updo and worked on her makeup until her skin glowed.

The best part was that she was completely recognizable.

She wasn’t obscured by the hours of work but enhanced.

She felt nothing like the rebel who had taken on the Society, and maybe that was for the better.

“Marvelous. Send in the troops,” Parris joked.

The door opened, and her wedding party was waiting—Darby, Clover, and Hadrian.

Darby entered in her green tulle gown and sufficiently oohed and aahed over the dress, hair, and makeup.

Hadrian and Clover, dressed in black suits with green cravats at their necks, followed behind her, Hadrian wheeling Clover into the room.

While she had made it out of the worst of the explosion coma, she was still fragile in a way she had never been before.

Loch managed her chronic-pain symptoms, but there were new pains that made it difficult to walk.

Amond and Darby hoped they would get her back on her feet, but it would take time.

Clover whistled. “Look at you.”

“You like it?” Kerrigan asked.

“Better than flying leathers.”

Kerrigan rolled her eyes. “I look good in leather.”

“A little risqué,” Hadrian said with his nose turned up.

Clover swatted at him. “Leave it, sweetheart.”

“That’s what I’m going for,” Kerrigan joked. “Risqué.”

“Half of the known world is going to be at this wedding, so I would hope not,” Hadrian said.

Darby shushed him. “She looks divine. Are you ready?”

“To marry Fordham? Absolutely.” Kerrigan shivered. “In front of the entire world? I don’t know.”

Darby linked her arms with Kerrigan’s, holding up her dress. “You’re a natural.”

The original four left the room behind and headed through Waisley to the double doors that led to her waiting groom.

Kerrigan breathed out, slow and steady. She hadn’t seen Fordham since the night before.

She’d lain in her bed all alone, wondering if she should shadow-jump to his room.

She’d felt the warmth down the bond, a teasing of it, tempting her to do it.

But in the end, they’d both decided to stick to tradition, not that tradition much cared for them.

A string quartet began, and one by one, Darby, Hadrian, and Clover headed down the aisle. The doors closed behind them, waiting for Kerrigan to emerge.

“Not too late, am I?”

Kerrigan turned around to find Dozan Rook standing in a black suit, the green cravat at his throat so incongruous with the red she was used to seeing on him.

“What are you doing here?” she gasped. “You’re in the wedding party.”

“I didn’t think it was right for you to walk down that aisle alone.”

A tear came to her eye, and she quickly dabbed it away. “Dozan, you’re not supposed to make me cry on my wedding day.”

He chuckled, and it was a welcoming sound. “I saw what you were when no one else did. I thought that I could be the one to give you away.”

“I don’t think ex-boyfriends are supposed to give a girl away.”

“Well, good thing I was never your boyfriend.”

“Good thing,” she said. “And that you’re marrying Fordham’s sister.”

“She is in on this, you know,” he said, taking her hand and placing it on his arm as they faced the closed double doors.

“Oh, I have no doubt. Otherwise, she’d kill you.”

“That she would,” he agreed. “Let’s hope we don’t see any of those shadows from either of them.”

She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “You’re an ass.”

“Is that how you speak to a council member?”

“ I’m a council member too,” she chided.

“Well, we’re both lucky then, princess.” The doors creaked open. “Let’s go make you a queen.”

Kerrigan stepped out of the house to the audience rising to their feet.

Her eyes locked on Fordham’s, and for a moment, she was lost to him.

Her love, her mate, her groom. She wanted nothing more than this moment in all these long months of turmoil, and now it was here, and it was too good to be true.

He did a double take at Dozan on her arm, but Wynter put her hand on Fordham at his side. And anyway, what did it matter? Kerrigan and Dozan were nothing in the grand scheme of things.

She and Fordham were the world.

Kerrigan passed a blur of familiar faces.

She could hardly keep up with who all was in attendance, watching her with tear-streaked faces as she walked to Fordham.

She couldn’t help but notice the seats that weren’t filled, the people they had lost along the way.

It was a solemn moment in an otherwise happy occasion.

But everyone who was still alive and could be here was here. It helped that she had opened up a door straight to her estate for the few days leading up to the wedding, letting everyone travel there with ease rather than risking the trip in the snow.

Luckily, the snow had held off nearly to Geivhrea, but a chill still whipped through the estate.

Or perhaps that was just Titania’s influence.

As promised, Kerrigan had allowed Titania to host their wedding.

She had taken full control of Waisley and transformed the premises into a festive winter wonderland, save for this singular meadow that seemed to stretch on farther than reasonably possible.

The weather here was balmy compared to the winter frost that was threatening to roll in from the north.

Her dress would have been entirely impractical if not for Titania’s magic.

More flowers were in bloom than Kerrigan could possibly name, as if she were walking to her groom in a verdant garden perfumed with flowers and their guests in festooned, white-backed chairs.

Titania hadn’t even blinked when Kerrigan had confessed that she refused to wait for a spring wedding.

Kerrigan stepped up to Titania, who was seated for all to see and marvel over—and marvel they did—in the front row. The mother of the Fae put her hand on Kerrigan’s brow, a blessing for the union.

“Thank you,” Kerrigan breathed.

Titania nodded. “No, thank you .”

A gasp rang out across the room. Thanks were commonplace now, but from the first Fae, it meant a debt owed.

“Not between us,” Kerrigan told her. “This is the end of that debt. We’re glad you’re here.”

Titania acknowledged it as regally as possible. “Go then, daughter.”

Kerrigan smiled gratefully and then continued to her waiting groom.

Dozan offered his hand to Fordham, who took it with a firm shake. Neither of them would have guessed they’d end up brothers. Dozan, instead of taking a seat, took the spot behind Wynter at Fordham’s side, his approval evident for all to see.

Then Kerrigan moved to Fordham’s side and stared up at him in shock and awe. The magic of the wedding seemed to move at lightning speed. Rings were exchanged. The precious vows they had shared in Ravinia Mountain were spoken aloud to the world.

And then the final questions were asked of them, and they both said, “I do.”

“I now pronounce you joined in an unbreakable union,” the female officiant said. “You may kiss your bride.”

Fordham pulled her against him and pressed their lips together.

The rest of the party cheered, but they seemed to disappear into the moment.

It was as if Kerrigan and Fordham were in a pocket of the universe where only they existed.

Nothing and no one else. Just like they had always dreamed it would be.

“My husband,” Kerrigan said, her hand on his jaw.

“My wife,” Fordham said.

Then they lifted their joined hands over their heads to another roar of applause.

This was what it was all about.

This was what made it all worth it.

This was living.