Page 65 of Bound By Blood
Willem's jaw tightens, but he nods stiff agreement. Political pressure outweighs religious preference, at least for now.
Three days later, I stand before their altar wearing ceremonial armor polished to mirror brightness, clan braids woven with copper wire that catches chapel light. The assembled witnesses, Lord Edran, Lady Jazmin, selected nobles whose support matters, watch with expressions ranging from curiosity to barely concealed horror.
Let them stare. Let them judge. History will remember this moment differently than they imagine.
Eirian appears in a traditional white gown that flows like water around her slender form, but I notice details that speak to a deeper truth. The embroidered willow patterns honor her healing gifts. The silver thread recalls moon-touched totem magic. The pendant at her throat bears both cross and carved leaf, symbols of dual loyalty.
She hasn't abandoned who she is. She's expanding it.
Willem's voice drones through ritual words that hold little meaning for me, but I watch Eirian's face as she speaks responses learned in childhood. This ceremony matters to her in ways I'll never fully understand, connects her to traditions that shaped her before we met.
Just as clan binding will connect me to powers she's only beginning to comprehend.
When time comes for vows, I speak in clear voice that carries to every corner of the chapel.
"I, Drokhan of the Stoneborn Clan, take Eirian of House Thorne as wife under human law and sacred witness. I pledge protection, provision, and partnership until death releases these bonds."
The words feel strange, formal and constrained compared to clan oaths that invoke earth and fire and blood. But they serve their purpose, creating legal framework that shields our love from Church interference.
Eirian's vows ring with a conviction that makes my heart swell. "I, Eirian of House Thorne, take Drokhan of the Stoneborn Clan as husband under Church law and divine witness. I pledge love, loyalty, and partnership until death parts us."
Until death. As if death could part what the Grove has joined.
Willem's blessing sounds grudging, but rings with proper authority. "By the power invested in me by Holy Church, I pronounce you husband and wife under sacred law."
The kiss that seals our union tastes of promise and challenge, love and defiance. Scattered applause echoes through the chapel, polite acknowledgment of political necessity rather than genuine celebration.
No matter. True celebration awaits in the Grove.
Lord Edran's reception proves appropriately restrained. Noble guests offer careful congratulations while eyeing my warriors with continued suspicion. Conversations flow around safe topics, weather, harvest prospects, trade negotiations, while carefully avoiding mention of the alliance's deeper implications.
But I catch meaningful glances between Eirian and several younger nobles, exchanges that speak to growing support among those who see opportunity where their elders see only threat.Change often begins with the young, spreading through those unburdened by old hatreds.
Seeds planted in fertile ground. Time will show what grows.
As evening falls, we retire to chambers that now officially belong to both of us. Legal recognition transforms rumored scandal into accepted reality, provides foundation for everything we hope to build.
"One ceremony complete," Eirian murmurs as she removes the formal gown, revealing the simple shift beneath. "One more to come."
"The Grove binding will be different." I gaze at her careful movements, reading excitement beneath nervous energy. "Clan ritual calls on powers your people fear, speaks to truths your Church denies."
"I know." She turns to face me, grey eyes bright with determination. "I'm ready."
Are you? Can anyone be ready for transformation that deep?
But I keep such doubts to myself. Tomorrow brings new challenges as we prepare for the journey back to clan territory. The Grove ceremony will test Eirian's commitment in ways Church wedding never could, demand choices that reveal the true depth of her courage.
Two worlds joined by love. Two ceremonies binding separate truths into single reality.
Outside our window, refugee fires burn steadily, small lights that represent hope for both our peoples. Tomorrow we return to the mountains, where deeper magic waits, where ancient stones will witness vows that reshape the world.
Let the Grove decide if we're worthy of the power we seek to claim.
But tonight, I claim my humanwifefor the first time.
I push the heavy window open, a gust of cool mountain air flows in. Eirian stands by the bed, her back to me, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm hue over her skin. She turns, her eyes meeting mine, and the world narrows down to this moment, this space, this woman.
Her smile widens, and she reaches out, her fingers trace intricate ink work on my chest. "Tonight is so special?"
