Page 117 of Fragile Oath

“Yes, if we’re to be in a kingdom that may or may not hate us with soldiers who may or may not have been secretly working for the Viper, at least we have each other,” I added in a lighter tone. “And Lithlinglau. And my occasionally dysfunctional family. All we need, really.”

I felt rather than saw her tense for the smallest frozen moment before she forced herself to relax.

“Allwe need?” she clarified.

Her cheeks were pink from more than the snow, her ice-blue eyes wide with uncertainty. Perhaps if not for that, and the barest hesitation she had shown, I would have answered offhand. Instead, I tilted my head, running through the last thing I had said and trying to suss out her meaning.

Oh.

I cleared my throat against the sudden unrelated tightness, picturing a new generation full of hope and promise and love. Squeezing her a bit tighter, I spoke in her ear.

“I can think of a few more things. Or six or seven,” I offered, mostly teasing her.

“Two,” she corrected quickly.

I pressed another kiss against her forehead. “Well,” I drew out the word, smirking down at her. “We don’t have to decide right now.”

“Well,” she repeated in the same tone. “We can safely decide against seven.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “You never know.”

Did she hear the echo of the moment on the rooftop when she had insisted she would never need to call in her life debt? Did she feel, as I did, the momentary awe of realizing how close we had come to never having each other, to never havingthis?

One decision gone wrong, and we never would have wound up here. Or hell, one decision gone right, in our case.

Something in Galina’s gaze told me she did understand.

“No,” she agreed softly, peering up at me just as she had the first time we danced on a rooftop even colder than this one…with snow in her hair and stars in her eyes. “You never know.”

Epilogue

GALINA

It was unseasonably cold tonight.

Lanterns were lit for warmth on either side of the two distinct masses of people. Richly dressed forms shivered in their black and white shawls, all but the King of Socair, and probably my parents, wherever they were seated.

It was hard to tell from where I stood at the back of the aisle, nestled amongst the trees. I wasn’t cold, though. Excitement coursed through my body, warming me from the inside out. Besides, my dress had sleeves. They were thin red silk, but they covered me from my collarbone down, almost gracing the floor. Heavy brocaded crimson silk made up my skirts, trailing in soft folds behind me whenever I walked.

The music swelled, and I took another small step toward the aisle. Jocelyn and Oliver were with me now, but they would be walking down first to take their seats. In Socair, we met our groom alone. I hadn’t wanted to ask my father to break tradition when he had broken so many already.

We both had.

As I drew nearer, I caught sight of Davin’s family seated near the front, though he was still out of view, waiting for me at the end of the aisle, no doubt looking devastatingly perfect in his ceremonial kilt. It was still hard to believe that we were both here, safe. That no one would show up at the eleventh hour to take this hard-earned bit of peace from us.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, taking in what I could of the guests from my vantage point tucked behind the trees.

The king and queen of Lochlann sat in a sea of red-headed girls, next to the captain of the guard and his tiny wife. Behind them, Gwyn and Gallagher were on either side of Avani. Malishka sat at her feet, and her skirts trembled suspiciously like perhaps there was a rotund, furry animal in her pockets. She stared with haunted eyes at the floating candle in the lake. Mac’s memorial.

Her smile was sad and wan, but it was resolute, nonetheless. She had worn the same smile as she helped me design my dress and every piece of my trousseau. Gwyn had helped also, even as she pretended she didn’t want to be there while she doled out even more opinions than the designer had.

Rowan had arrived too late to partake in that, but not too late to partake in staying up all night with Davin and the case of vodka she brought. Here was hoping Gallagher had broken his rule about healing hangovers, since I was absolutely certain he could.

The music swelled, and Jocelyn turned to me.

“That’s our cue.” She held her hands out, ready to fix any stray hair or thread, but there were none. She smiled softly. “I never have to worry about you,” she said with a small grin.

Then she nodded at Oliver, and together they helped bring my veil down over my face. The floor-length crimson fabric was artfully attached to a ruby-and-diamond headband, in the style of Socair. My mother had brought it, with a reserved comment about how she always thought red would be a better wedding color on me.

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