Page 131 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
All Talemir could do was take comfort in knowing that his former apprentice, his brother in arms, was on his own path now, and that they would no doubt one day meet again. He knew in his bones that Wilder Hawthorne had a much bigger part to play in the destiny awaiting the midrealms.
‘It’s time,’ Dratos drawled, tossing his pipe aside and jumping down from the ledge, happily clapping Talemir on the shoulder.
Talemir mirrored his grin. ‘Finally,’ he said.
Standing upon the small platform, warmth spreading through his chest and tears prickling his eyes, Talemir looked at the faces before him. Fendran and Adrienne stood right at the front, beaming back at him, while Gus, sporting a brand-new knitted jumper, was grinning at Adrienne’s side.
But standing a little further away was someone else. Someone Talemir did not expect.
Towering over everyone else was Malik the Shieldbreaker.
Talemir clapped a hand to his mouth at the sight. How in the realms had he got here? After everything Malik had been through, travelling across the realms was the last thing Talemir would have expected from him.
Tears streamed down the giant Warsword’s scarred face. Smiling broadly through them, he nodded to Talemir from across the way, an enormous dog sitting at his feet, wagging its tail.
But the first notes of a harp soon drifted down the aisle, and Talemir stared at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
All the air left his lungs.
Drue walked towards him, delicate wisps of shadow swirling at her ankles courtesy of their people, in a dress not of traditional white, but black and red, the same hues as his wings.
And she looked every bit the Queen of Night.
The gown was made of dark lace and sheer, shimmering fabric that kissed Drue’s collarbone and clung to her arms in elegant sleeves. The plunging neckline accentuated her breasts, the material cinching in at the waist only to flow out freely from her hips and drape elegantly around her legs, a daring slit up one thigh, the train trailing behind her.
As usual, Drue’s blue eyes were lined with kohl, but she had painted her lips a deep red to match her dress, while her hair had been braided and swept up into a regal bun at the back of her head, flowers threaded throughout.
Only when she reached him at the podium did Talemir breathe.
Drue smiled. ‘Hello, Warsword.’
‘Hello, Wildfire,’ he murmured, his throat thick with emotion as he grasped her hands in his.
Before their friends and family, amid the blooms and gentle tendrils of shadow, Talemir Starling and Drue Emmerson exchanged vows.
Love was a language of few words, older than humanity, older than the ancient power that thrummed in Talemir’s veins, but a language he understood intimately thanks to the woman before him – his wife.
A single tear tracked down Talemir’s cheek and Drue kissed it away, her eyes bright with tears as well.
The ceremony was short and simple, the promises between them expressed in the silver rings they exchanged, and the first kiss they shared as husband and wife.
Wife…The word chimed through Talemir like a bell as the small crowd gathered around them, embracing them, kissing their tear-streaked cheeks and shaking their hands.
Drue Emmerson was hiswife…
The celebrations wenton late into the night. They danced and drank and laughed with their people, their family. When Talemir embraced Malik and tried to introduce his oldest friend to Drue, words failed him and fresh tears tracked down his face. The giant former Warsword simply grinned at Drue and pulled her into a bear hug. If only Wilder had been there to see it.
It felt like an age before Talemir had the opportunity to pull Drue aside. Her face was flushed, her eyes alight with joy.
‘There you are, husband,’ she said, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
‘There you are,wife,’ he said, smiling against the lush curve of her lips. ‘Can I whisk you away somewhere?’
‘Please,’ she murmured.
Talemir swept her up in his arms, the fabric of her gown billowing as he freed his wings and launched them into the night sky, the stars winking all around them.
He took her to a secluded spot in the nearby mountains, one he’d spent hours preparing earlier that day. He had scattered midnight rose petals, arranged dozens of candles and readied a basket with wine and food. He had also prepared a makeshift bed of blankets and cushions, knowing that they would want a private moment just between the two of them after all the festivities.
