16

“Great day for a wedding, huh?” Preston whispered.

“Um, yeah,” I whispered back. “Great day for it.”

Both of his hands were clasped together tight, his fists and knuckles like a hammer dangling at his waist. I was doing the same. Didn’t know the first damn thing I was supposed to do with my hands, standing here in front of this massive audience.

No, see, that was my first mistake, thinking of them as a group of people who had come here to judge me. These were all friends and family come to celebrate probably the biggest party of my life. They were all there to see me and Xander get married, and then we’d have a great time afterward with plenty of booze and cake. Nothing to worry about.

And yet all I could do was worry. We’d rehearsed the ceremony plenty of times already. Everything was set to go off without a hitch. Lore’s crystal buzzed softly in the air between us, practicing his lines under his breath as if he couldn’t pull up any of a thousand officiant scripts from his memory banks and read them automagically text-to-speech style.

“You nervous there, Lore?” I asked, maybe in some feeble attempt to deflect my anxiety.

“It’s my first wedding, Jackson. I think I have every right to be nervous.”

“You’ll ace it, don’t worry. Just like you ace everything else, whether it’s shopping for groceries, or baking, or firing lasers.”

“Th-thank you for the reassurance, Jackson. And I’m sure you’ll smash your first wedding, too.”

And hopefully my last one.

Little glass drones floated about, the ones Niko and Flint had promised, clicking and flickering as they captured our matrimonial memories from every imaginable angle. Click, flicker. Hopefully they didn’t capture how terrified I looked.

I was wearing the simplest and yet most elegant suit I could afford — or that Beatrice would sell me without thrusting me straight into bankruptcy. It was extremely comfy for how snappy I looked. Comfort was very much one of my greatest concerns. To a guy who basically lived without the encumbrance of shirt sleeves, a suit was practically a straitjacket.

But this was worth it, especially seeing how well my party matched. Preston and Reza looked similarly very smart in their own suits, their matching ivory tie-and-pocket square combinations, those shiny shoes. The day had been so busy that I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Sedgewick and Niko.

They stood across the aisle, the dapper members of Xander’s party, led by an extra dapper Beatrice Rex, who’d elected to wear a disarmingly sexy tuxedo dress in her capacity as Xander’s best man.

Oh, and that was how we’d ended up dividing all of our friends. Niko and Sedgewick did gravitate more toward Xander, being the youngest in our group.

“Everything okay there, Pryde?” Reza’s leonine mane of hair stood perfectly gelled in place even when he leaned in to check on me. “You’re looking especially fidgety at the moment.”

I tugged on my collar to loosen it a bit. “All good here, Reza. Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, Jack. No one’s here to make fun of or look down on you. You and Xander handpicked all the guests. They’re here because they love you.”

He clapped his hand on my shoulder, then slipped back into position. A rare droplet of sweetness from Reza Arshad, of all people. That actually helped. He was right, and I’d told myself that exact thing already. These people had only come here to celebrate with us.

It was only the waiting that bothered me in the end. I knew that about myself already. But I had to put my mind on something else. Xander was going to walk that aisle any moment now. In the meantime, I could busy myself with quietly greeting our guests. I was a big boy, wasn’t I? Big man in a suit.

Fatima was there, our fae merchant friend, this time with her human disguise — the one she’d worn in the Black Market — completely cast off. Flint Lockstone was there, too, dressed very smartly and not at all like the leather vest-loving action movie hero and adventurer I knew him to be.

Even Old Giuseppe had turned up to support our love, which was awfully big of him considering, well, everything. And Harlock the butler, he wouldn’t miss seeing his young Master Xander getting married for the world.

Eleanor Grouse had taken time off her busy schedule of rejecting applications of all kinds at Guildhall to attend our humble hoedown. Also in attendance was one of her infamous servants, a ghostly inspecter dressed in shadowy robes.

No one seemed to pay the inspecter any mind. These people had experienced far greater horrors in their time. Eleanor Grouse herself, for one thing.

Most of the guild masters had attended as well, Kaoru Minamimoto in a pristine white kimono that signified his station as the Scribe of the Thousand Hands. Irina Belkova of the Ringing Hollow wore a dress in a suitably sheer fabric that resembled glass, as icy in demeanor as her beloved son Niko.

At a casual glance, one would assume that the seat beside her was empty, but it was in fact occupied by Yekaterina Belkova, her mother, who had ascended to such heights in the glassmaking arts that her body had begun to take upon more crystalline qualities.

Master Gertrude Goodness resembled an elaborate pastry more than ever, her dress and hat like the tiers of a cake. Master Lobelia was shrouded in a lush gown of interwoven flowers, their petals seeming to drift and sway with her every breath.

Master Vikhyat wore an arresting cross between a tuxedo and a suit of armor, with a roughshod iron collar and cuffs in place of a tie and cufflinks. Ingrid, one of his favorite apprentices who’d fought alongside us against Dietrich Sturm, sat beside him.

And of course, there was Madame Catherine Grayhaven herself.

I thought it was very polite of her to consider dressing down for the occasion. The material of her gown gleamed with a faint metallic sheen, the only extravagance a pair of gray wings extending from the back of her neck and draping over her shoulders. Her winged capelet quivered every so often, shedding one or two feathers that vanished before they hit the ground.

And speaking of feathers, the ambient murmur of the crowd fell to a hush as a gryphon appeared at the end of the aisle. Black and ivory ribbons streamed from his feathers as he stepped gracefully down the carpet, some tied neatly in bows, others left loose to drift languidly as he walked.

Zephyr had complained loudly and often about the indignity of being bedecked in all these human adornments, but all it took was a gentle reminder of the proud, battle-scarred, heavily-decorated imaginary little girl who’d inspired him to agree.

I could hear our guests whispering as Zephyr strutted pompously down the aisle. “Impressed” didn’t quite cut it. Even in the arcane underground, mythological creatures weren’t exactly a common sight at weddings.

Zephyr slammed one paw onto the ground. “You may retrieve the precious jewels from my plumage, friend Preston. I have defended them with my life.”

Keeping a straight face, Preston offered Zephyr a treat from his pocket. We might have agreed on dehydrated chicken meat, with Zephyr graciously accepting that a wedding was not the right place for mechanically separating a rotisserie chicken from its skeleton.

He took Preston’s treat gently in his beak, bowing his head closer. With permission granted, Preston carefully detached our wedding rings, which dangled from a ornate loops of black and ivory ribbon around Zephyr’s chest.

To the gryphon’s credit, and especially to someone who still refused to grasp the concept of clothing and accessories, Zephyr wore the rings well, as proudly as a set of military medals. I made a mental note to have something custom made for him later, a thank you gift from me and Xander. I already knew Zephyr would complain, but he’d secretly love it all the same. Maybe a collar with a pendant in the shape of a whole roasted chicken.

With the rings secured, Zephyr strutted off to the side, head held high, proud as ever. I grinned to myself in quiet disbelief. We had a gryphon at our wedding — at our wedding in the Court of Summer, the Palace of Briars. This was a magical occasion, an actual dream come true, when once before, I’d never even imagined I’d get married in my lifetime.

And here it was happening at last to Alexander Wright, of all people, my close childhood friend, then my enemy, then my lover and my very best friend. I should have been pumped instead of nervous. I should have been exploding at the seams with excitement. I clenched my fists tight, trying to hold back my enthusiasm.

And then I caught my first look at Xander on the carpet, and suddenly I was holding back tears.

I tried to avoid looking directly at him at first. He was too beautiful, like staring into the sun, so radiant I was afraid I’d burn my eyes out. I examined his parents first, his loving escorts. That trip to Milan had definitely been worth it. Edric Wright cut a striking figure in his suit. Wilhelmina wore an emerald-green gown that seemed to be woven from thousands of little leaves, her hair styled up as pretty as a flower.

And then there was Xander.

Xander looked incredible in anything he wore — absolutely anything. You could throw the boy in a burlap sack with holes for the arms and he’d still be the sexiest person in the room. But in his wedding-day best? I would have given ravishing him on the carpet more than a passing thought if my heart wasn’t about to explode from fondness.

The black of his suit jacket and pants perfectly matched the black of his hair, and the same went with the white. The ivory tie and pocket square lent a touch of cream against the blushing bronze of his skin. Blushing more than usual, I would wager, because we were both so overcome with emotion.

His eyes sparkled with his barely contained joy, bright as gemstones, as shards of crystal. In the next few minutes, this utter dreamboat would become my husband, my partner, my lover until the end of our days. Gods above and below. I was the luckiest man alive.

We stared at each other across the garden like lovelorn school boys. I couldn’t decide if I was about to break into a nervous giggle or a wheezing sob. Both felt so inappropriate, and yet so completely correct. Somehow I held it together as his parents walked him down the aisle.

A single leaf fell from the branches above us, settling gently, perfectly among the locks of his hair, a little kiss from the Summer Court, a tiny flourish sent by the Verdance. In no time at all the Wrights had reached the dais. I felt so completely unprepared, like this was the very last thing in the world I could deal with right now.

And yet a single smile and a single longing look from Xander was all it took to give me the reassurance I needed.

I turned to the sound of hushed conversation, what I could only assume were murmurs of approval and whispered admiration from our guests. I locked eyes with King Oberon, sat in the front row with the ever-loyal Sparrowheart at his side. How generous of him to offer us this, of all things, when it was only a reminder of the tragedy that befell his own bond to Queen Titania. What a kindness he’d done us.

Seated behind him were various high fae nobles from the Summer Court, the lords and ladies of the land, and who was I to spoil their fun or risk their ire by denying them a chance for a long overdue party? A human wedding, too, curiosity of curiosities.

But seated next to the king in pride of place were our parents — the Wrights on one side, the Prydes on the other. Mom and Dad were only holograms, of course, wearing their best formal clothes, reconstructed and enhanced by the AIs, and projected by Whitby’s little crystalline body, which hovered slightly above their seats.

What an incredible gift that Lore and Whitby had prepared for me. They were only wavering ghosts, bluish imitations of my parents as they lived, but their presence felt so very real. Octavian clenched his fist and pumped it in the air. Luciana beamed with pride.

The dam very nearly broke.

I truly couldn’t believe that I’d managed to hold it together this far into the ceremony. My body was a trembling vessel so close to overflowing with love and happiness and tears. One little nudge and I would spill over. I gazed at Xander, my heart aching and heavy and full. I knew he would catch me, every last bit of me. I couldn’t wait to pull him into my arms, seal this all with a kiss, and make it forever.

“Dearly beloved,” Lore began, and yet again I had to carefully control my breathing to hold it all in as the rest of his words washed over me and rolled off my skin.

“Dearly beloved,” he’d said, an entity handcrafted by artificers, then bestowed intelligence and sentience. Emotions were never supposed to be a part of the package, and yet both Lore and Whitby had proven beyond doubt that they were capable of feeling for others, of acts of kindness and love.

This was the legacy of my parents, and this was exactly what I wanted to carry forward in the rest of my life with Xander, with all of our friends. I was surrounded by love. I was so, so fucking lucky.

I sniffled, scratching the corner of my eye and pretending I wasn’t just checking for tears. Niko wrinkled his nose in distaste. I could hear his thoughts as he grimaced. “Big, hairy baby.” I stifled a small laugh, grateful that it wasn’t tears that needed stifling. Niko leaned over to Sedgewick, very softly but very obviously whispering the words, “Jack is losing it.”

“Who’s losing it?” Beatrice hissed, quiet enough that she wouldn’t interrupt Lore, but with enough expression to look a little pissed. Preston took the tiniest step closer to see what was up, the shifting weight of his muscular body causing the platform to creak. Reza craned his neck and glowered, his glare shooting sparks at the other groom’s party.

And out of nowhere the words came.

“Love you, Jack,” Xander murmured so softly, so sweetly, picking up on everything zinging through the air between all of us. I smiled broadly at him, mouthing the words back.

Lore cleared his throat. We shuffled our feet and straightened our backs, each trying our best not to look like the most inattentive student in class. Me and my fiancé and my friends, just a bunch of chaotic misfits who happened to be well-dressed for one day. It was perfect. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“And so we have come to witness the union of this rarest of pairs,” Lore continued, “an accomplished artificer and an academic of the arcane.”

Soft whispers and nods of agreement from the wedding guests. I bet they didn’t know that an artificer’s intelligence could be so well spoken. Or so long winded. Or so fond of alliteration, for that matter.

“Brilliant Xander may have his sharp tongue and his sharp wit, but all his blades and points are as melted chocolate and warmed honey when it comes to his beloved Jackson. And our dear Jackson may be rough around the edges, so strong and tough on the outside, but as soft as a marshmallow on the inside. A heart of nougat, some might say.”

Chuckles and polite laughter this time. Lore hadn’t been a member of Mother Dough for even a few months and already with all the dessert jokes.

“Indeed, for all their differences, what these two have in common is all that matters in the world: love. So hard and craggy they may be on the outside, but so pliant and soft on the inside.”

Another murmur of approval from the wedding guests. The vows. Yes. Any minute now.

“Like a chocolate lava cake, but with a crusty, crisp exterior. Or a truffle with praline filling, only it’s coated with hard caramel. Or a cream puff that is, uh, similarly coated in hardened caramel.”

I leaned in to the floating crystal, whispering out of the corner of my mouth that faced away from the crowd.

“I think they get the picture, Lore.”

“Well, I am trying my very best, Jackson,” he hissed back. “And now for the vows. Xander, if you please.”

I swallowed hard, steadily avoiding Niko’s gaze lest I imagined him calling me a big, hairy baby in his head again. And that was exactly why we’d planned it this way, Xander agreeing to go first because we both knew I’d dissolve into a blubbering mess if I had to say my vows first. Click, flicker went the glass camera drones.

I waited for him to reach into his suit pocket for the sheet of paper where he’d no doubt scribbled, crossed out, and re-scribbled all his words of love for me, except he never did. My beautiful betrothed had memorized it all, a Grayhaven graduate through and through.

He lowered his head very slightly, looking up at me through his lashes, through a fringe of hair that would only just help to hide the first traces of tears, if they did indeed break.

“Jackson, I’ve known you since we were both just kids. We only lived the exact width of a street from each other. We used to play together, sometimes in your house, sometimes in mine. We’d chase after each other, get lost in all the rooms. Mother and Father would have to send Harlock to find us and fish us out of the depths.”

From somewhere among the wedding guests, Harlock the butler blubbered into his pristine white handkerchief.

“And then we grew up and our lives went in opposite directions. The day I left for Grayhaven — the day I knew I’d be so far away from you — it broke my heart. How I longed to look out my bedroom window and see you on the other side. Somehow fate saw fit to have us mend our friendship, but it didn’t stop there. We fell in love.”

I gritted my teeth. Not now. I couldn’t break now. Xander grinned, the corners of his eyes glittering with new tears.

“Now I start each day opening my eyes and seeing you in bed beside me. The very first thing I see in the morning is the most beautiful man in the world. My partner, my beloved, my best friend. We’ve been through so much together, you and I, stopped the worst from taking over the world — over the cosmos.

“And that happened because you welcomed me into your world, shared your friends with me, your family, your space, your heart. You’re a kind man, Jackson Pryde, and that’s what brought us together.” He raised his hand, swishing it in a circle all around us. “It’s what brought all of us here together. I never did have many friends, but looking around us now, I can’t believe how quickly my family has grown.”

My eyes scanned the gardens, meeting the twinkling and tear-stained faces of the people who had indeed become so important to us, to our lives.

“I swear to stand by you no matter how great the threat. I promise to carry your burden no matter how heavy. There’s nothing that can possibly stand between us, nothing that can stop us, for as long as we have each other. I love you, Jackson Pryde, and I can’t wait to wake up to the sight of you for all the rest of my mornings. Forever.”

My jaw clenched so tight that I was worried my face would freeze that way. My heart. Gods, my heart. The only thing lovelier than having someone to love was knowing that he loved me just as much in return. Beatrice sniffled. Niko stared pointedly away from the dais, from me and Xander.

I rubbed at my eye with one fist, failing to pretend that I got a speck of dust in there. I reached for the sheet of paper in my pocket, the one I’d folded and unfolded so many times that I’d worn the grain out, scored the page into eight increasingly brittle sections. This was the real reason I needed to hold it together. A single tear would hopelessly smudge the ink on my vows, if not disintegrate the long-suffering paper altogether.

“I promise to make you breakfast — that doesn’t sound right. Even if you steal the blankets sometimes — yeah, that’s not it either. Sorry. Wait. Here it is.”

Soft laughter came from all around us. Even the trees and the wind sounded like they were tittering along, humoring their odd human guests. Xander chuckled, wiping a fistful of tears away.

“Alexander Wright. You’re the one with all the brains and the fancy education, and you know that I don’t do words all that well, so I’ll just try my best and speak from the heart. You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever met. Like wow, what a bodacious hunk, and each and every day I remind myself to be grateful for how lucky I am.”

He rolled his eyes jokingly. “Stop,” he mouthed, even as our friends and family laughed.

“Because it’s the truth,” I said, my eyes lifting from the paper, my mouth going on autopilot, because apparently I didn’t need a script anymore. I balled it up and threw it over my shoulder. “I am the luckiest man I know. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve saved my life. Never mind how many times you’ve made me laugh, or how the very sight of you smiling can lift my spirits, even when I’m having the worst day. Just the worst day. I’m talking apocalyptic.”

Xander sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek, down the perfect curve of his smiling face.

“I can’t offer you everything, Xander Wright, but I offer you everything I have. My heart, my body, my soul. I promise to give you all the gifts I can afford, all the back rubs I can muster. I promise I will do everything to make you smile, to light up your life whenever I can, to give you an easy, comfortable, and happy existence.

“I promise to protect you from anything that may endanger us, or our family, or our love. I promise to shield you from harm, to build you a home filled with nothing but love and laughter. I’m at my best when I’m with you, and I swear we’ll have the best life together. I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known, Xander Wright. I’ll keep loving you until the stars fade.”

Shouldn’t have thrown my vows away. It was so soft from being manhandled it could have made for some decent tissue paper. Wilhelmina had the right idea, dabbing at her eyes with a pretty lace handkerchief. Couldn’t use my pocket square for that. My husband would kill me.

Oh, gods. My husband!

“And now, the rings,” Lore said, the words stern and powerful, like he was issuing a command.

Preston offered us the rings — dear, sweet Preston, strong and reliable as a rock, both his demeanor and his hands. Good, because I was trembling. Xander, too, shaking like a leaf, the poor thing.

A circle of warm gold slipped over my finger, the band crowned with a glimmering black diamond.

“With this ring,” Xander said, with trembling voice, “I thee wed.”

I returned the favor, perhaps gripping his hand a little too hard to try and steady myself. I slipped the black diamond ring onto Xander’s finger — no more enchantments this time, not since the mixup with our engagement rings. Only symbolism, and adornment, and adoration, these matching golden loops. Infinite. Endless. Me and Xander. Click, flicker.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Gleeful, nervous laughter stuttered out of my throat. Xander’s cheeks puffed up when he stifled his own giddiness, both of us too excited for words, laughing at nothing, or at the world’s funniest joke. We were married. Married!

“By the power vested in me by OvernightOfficiants dot com, I now pronounce you partners for life. You may now kiss your husband.”

Xander took me by the waist and the back of the neck, then kissed me hard. I kissed him back, surprised, smiling, laughing. The gardens erupted with applause. Xander dipped me and kissed me even harder. That wasn’t part of the plan, but I loved it. He pulled me back up, grinning as we broke the kiss.

“Worried I was going to drop you?” he asked in a whisper, his words barely audible through the hoots and howls of our loved ones.

“Never,” I whispered back, kissing him hard and dipping him, too, giving him a taste of his own medicine. Xander laughed against my lips, gripping my shoulders tight. The Palace of Briars roared with the sounds of celebration.

We’d have each other’s backs, literally, just like this. Forever. Just me and my husband, Xander Wright.