Page 124 of In Her Own Rite

He grins, looking me up and down, knowing something’s up. He walks forward and takes my hand, and I lead him up the stairs, to the second floor landing and towards the part of the newfikarigthat’s meant for us.

It’s a gorgeous house—all hardwood floors and tall, arched windows to let in the light. I never imagined I’d live in a place like this after growing up in the little fisherman’s hut my parents shared near the eastern shore. But with how well Saroan Salts has been doing, and the success of Kieran’s work these last few years, our budget was way higher than we first thought. Sometimes as Maren and I laugh in the sun room downstairs, or take a walk in the garden together, I have to remind myself that this is real.

Our part of the house is a three-bedroom section on the far end of the second floor. I pull Kieran behind me, intertwining my fingers with his as I lead him to the door of our new bedroom.

“Okay. Close your eyes,” I say, turning around to look at him.

He does as told, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips. He looks so beautiful, standing there like that, and for a second I take in the curves and angles of his face; the soft edges of his beard and the freckles sprayed over his cheeks and forehead, darkening now that we’re heading into spring. I want to remember all of it—commit this moment to memory. And though I’d planned to show him the room right away, I can’t help myself. I bring my arms up around his neck and lean him down to kiss me.

He wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me into him.

“Is this the surprise?” he murmurs against my mouth.

I shake my head and reach for the door handle behind me, pressing down and pushing the door open.

“No. Look.”

Kier looks up at the room behind me, and I watch his face as his eyes widen. He and Seb moved the bed and mattress in last night, but Maren and I spent the whole morning decorating with things we’ve been finding for the last few weeks. I don’t have to look behind me to know what he’s seeing. Soft linen sheets on the bed in different shades of ocean blue and deep teal. A little dark wood bench at the foot of the bed, with some yellow pillows and a blanket artfully placed on top (styled by Maren, of course, who wouldn’t even let me sit on the bench until after Kieran had seen everything). Above the bed we’ve hung a large painting of the ocean, and across the room, I set up a full-length mirror next to a leafy green tree and a gorgeous wooden dresser Caspar made.

“Em. It’s beautiful,” he says, walking in past me.

“No white sheets,” I say proudly. “And no duffle bag under the bed, you can check. I’m here for real. Together with you.”

He turns around to face me, and I see his eyes go to something above my head.

“Oh, and look,” I continue, gesturing to the wooden dresser. “Quite an upgrade from the chair where you had to keep your clothes, huh?”

But Kieran doesn’t react, and instead he walks towards me, eyeing the wall next to the door frame. I turn around, following his gaze. Hanging there is the painting I made of us at the quarry years ago, mounted in the wooden frame he gave me for my last birthday.

“You hung it up,” he says, eyeing the painting. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“What, the frame?” I take his hand as he eyes it. “No, I loved it. It was so thoughtful. I just—I don’t know. The drawing made me sad. It was us on the night you left.”

“It was us on the night I first kissed you,” he says, looking down at me.

I nod. “Yeah, I guess. But I didn’t like looking at it for a long time. It made me sad to remember.”

“Not anymore?”

I shake my head. “Not anymore. Those years aren’t wasted to me, remember? They brought us here. To this house. To our future.”

I take his hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs over the backs of his palms. He’s still wearing my black hair tie around his wrist, though it’s starting to come loose at the place where the two ends of the elastic come together. We’re going to have to get him a new one, one of these days. Or maybe something a little more permanent.

“I have something for you, too,” he says. “I was gonna save it for later, but maybe now’s the right time.”

“Yeah?” I ask, looking up.

He nods and leads me downstairs, then out the garden door across the wide expanse of green, and to the little wooden shed Seb suggested he can use for woodworking. Kieran’s still keeping the workshop he has in town, but since we’re living on the other side of Moon Lake now, we thought it might be nice to have another place for him to work.

He puts his back against the doors of the shed, grabbing the handles of the doors behind him. I can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “What is this?”

“I made you something,” he says. “I started working on it when I came back to Saroe, when you and the others were still on Halluk. But I think, in a way… I think I’ve been working on it a lot longer than that.”

“Okay,” I say quietly.

“I… Wait, I don’t know. Maybe I should do this another time,” he says.

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