She wouldn’t live even a fraction as long as he would, but she’d live the days they had left together to their fullest, knowing he loved her just as she loved him. It was more than she’d ever dared to hope.
A smile on his face, he drank her in with his exploring gaze, and her cheeks warmed.
“I think he does like the dress,” Bianca whispered in her ear with a giggle.
She shushed Bianca and approached the balustrade. “Is it time?”
“It is.” He extended a hand to her, here, in this blooming courtyard of daydreams. “Will you do me the honor?”
She took his hand, descended the steps, and let him help her into the saddle. He gave a nod to Bianca and Gabriella, thick as thieves, who watched them leave. Bianca even gave her a wink. The troublemaker.
Their teasing made her heart flutter, and here, enshrined in Veron’s arms, she had all the reason in the world to be giddy.
Her eyes closed, she tucked her head under Veron’s chin, settled into his embrace, breathed in his pure forest-stream scent. “You’re sure you like the dress?”
A soft breath. “I am. It suits you, my love.” A light, playful tone danced in his deep voice. “But I do have something to ask you,” he added, and that playful tone faded.
“Hmm?” She opened her eyes, straightened a little.
He let the silence stay a while. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
She looked up at him, but there was no room to see his face. Now, minutes before their Offering, he doubted her?
“I once told you I couldn’t release you,” he said softly. “But now, Aless, if you tell me this isn’t what you want, I will help you, whatever it takes.”
That’s what this was about? He’d told her in Stroppiata that he couldn’t release her, but she didn’t want to be released. She wanted this—him—with every fiber of her being.
But he… he wanted her to choose this, not just accept it. He supported her decision, whether it was to do what he wanted or not.
If they weren’t in the saddle, and about to stand in front of hundreds of people, she’d tackle him right now. “Veron, I want a life with you. I choose this. I choose you.”
He let out a heavy breath. “That’s a relief.” A few deep breaths. “But I wanted—I needed—to ask.”
“And I love that you did.” She nuzzled his chest as Noc took them to the front of Baraza Gate, where no less than three hundred guests surrounded the vine-wrapped ruins. The Bloom shimmered all around them, glittered, and the gentle glow like stars all around was the pixies in attendance.
One raced from the rest, a little glowing star, and landed on her shoulder with a happy chime in greeting. A little pink-haired and leaf-wrapped pixie.
“Tiny,” she breathed, and smiled. “You came.”
“Tiny?” Veron asked, bending to look. “Hello,” he whispered brightly.
Tiny fluffed her hair and crossed her legs, fluttering her wings as if to demonstrate their shimmering beauty.
“Did you do something new to your hair?” Aless asked, receiving a lively wing-fluttering in reply.
Xira, the mystic from the lifespring, stood at the top of the ruins’ steps in her violet robes, her white hair ruffled by the breeze. While Queen Zara—Mati—seemed to preside over nearly all events in Nozva Rozkveta, Offerings were the mystics’ preserve.
Veron dismounted and helped her down from Noc’s saddle. “Thank you, old friend,” he said softly, patting his neck.
Noc swished his tail and sprightly headed off to the side, where Arabella took in the whole assembly with interest, turning her horned head this way and that. Dhuro and Gavri stood with her, occasionally whispering things.
Veron took her hand, and together, they ascended the steps to stand before Xira. When her eyes met his, he was smiling, and she couldn’t help but smile, too. They were doing this. They were finally doing this.
“Nozva Rozkveta bids you welcome,” Xira announced to all the guests. “Today we gather in support of Prince Veron of Nozva Rozkveta and Princess Alessandra Ermacora of Silen as they make the Offering to each other, before Deep, Darkness, and Holy Ulsinael, and pledge to walk their lives together. Let us take a moment to welcome Holy Ulsinael here, to bless their union with his dark grace.”
Xira clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and bowed her head, as did Veron, as did Mati, as did every dark-elf in attendance, and Aless did the same.
Holy Mother, bless our union. Holy Ulsinael, bless our union.
She prayed, willing with all her heart that her prayers be heard, and when she opened her eyes, both Veron and Xira were grinning at her. Her cheeks warmed, but she only held his gaze, even as that playful grin warmed her cheeks even more.
Xira took their hands and joined them. “Make your Offerings.”
Holding her hand, Veron stroked her fingers, his grin fading to a pensiveness, intensifying those warm golden eyes as he shifted in his boots. In Bellanzole, he’d arrived with a full arsenal of weapons and made an Offering to her right there, in L’Abbazia Reale, in the hallway. It had been a stunning moment, one she’d never forget.
Today, he had no sword, no bow, no knives, no shield, nor scroll.
He stood before her, holding her hand, regarding her warmly. “Aless, when we first married in Bellanzole, I offered you power, survival, skill, defense, and wisdom. I didn’t know you then,” he said to her, searching her eyes as a subtle smile claimed his lips. “But I know you now, and you require none of those things from me. You’re a force to be reckoned with in your own right, and it is my great fortune to be by your side.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and shallow breaths were all she could muster.
“Alessandra Ermacora, princess of Silen, I, Veron of Nozva Rozkveta, offer you my love, my loyalty, and my life”—he held her hand to his chest—“to harness for your ends or ours, as we walk our lives together from this day forward for as long as the Deep allows.”
His life?
His golden eyes stayed locked with hers, and her shallow breaths only became shallower.
His life—his life—
Did he mean… a lifebond?
She gasped. “Veron…”
He couldn’t! Holy Mother’s mercy, a lifebond? Offering to share his life force with hers, to strengthen her, to weaken as she weakened, to die when she died?
He nodded to Xira, who held a bright, metallic little star, shaped like a crystal cluster.
“I’m a mortal,” she whispered. “You can’t—”
He kissed her hand. “It won’t make you Immortal. But together, we’ll have something more than a mortal life, and something less than an immortal one. That much I know.”
This was… She shook her head. “Veron, are you sure—”
“I want to spend our lives together, Aless. Always together. Whether that’s a hundred years or a thousand, whatever the Deep, Darkness, and Holy Ulsinael allow. Please make me the happiest man alive and say yes.”
Say yes? Say yes to a lifetime shared with Veron, to years and decades and centuries in love, in joy, together? His sacrifice was enormous, and she wanted to argue, but as he held her gaze, pressed his lips to her hand, he gave her his answer.
“Yes,” she whispered, and when his smile broadened, so did hers. “I accept your Offering.”
A beaming Xira nodded to her.
It was time for her Offering. She’d planned to Offer him her knowledge, her boldness, and her ambition… but he had been right. Those weren’t the things they truly needed to Offer each other. “Veron, prince of Nightbloom, I, Alessandra Ermacora of Silen, offer you my love, my loyalty, and my life, too,” she said, threading her fingers through his, “to harness for your ends or ours, as we walk our lives together from this day forward for as long as the Deep allows.”
He held both her hands, and grinned. “I accept your Offering.”
Xira held out the small, bright metal cluster, and placed it between their palms. As they squeezed, there was a pinprick, and Xira held their hands between hers, chanted in Elvish, and when she finished—despite the pinprick, there was no mark, no blood.
“You are now lifebonded,” Xira said, “joined in life and death, able to sense each other, draw each other, call to each other.”
What that meant, she’d find out in the coming days, but as long as she got to be with Veron, the lifebond was perfect.
“What Offerings made and accepted today before the Deep, Darkness, and Holy Ulsinael, let no other pursue,” Xira declared to the guests. “We swear this by the Darkness.”
“By the Darkness,” the crowd murmured, and Veron’s lips met hers.
Chapter 29
After an evening of feasting, games, and dancing—for the humans in attendance—Veron opened the door to their quarters with a sigh of relief.
“So you’ll take me hunting tomorrow?” Aless asked, breezing past him as he shut the door. “I need more practice.”
“Perhaps not tomorrow,” he said with a smile. When she pursed her lips, he added, “The Stone Singers and stavbali are breaking ground on the library tomorrow. I think you’ll want to be there.”
“What?” She jumped into his arms, squealing. “Tomorrow? Veron, really? Tomorrow!”