The groomsmen began their walk next, led by Hood, who paused at the end of the river rock path while the others fanned out on the side opposite us. The wedding march began to play as Linus stepped into view.
The oxygen punched out of my lungs, and Lethe had to elbow me to remind me to breathe.
His tux was simple, but I had seen the bills and was aware how much simple cost a man of his station. Despite the heat, his face wasn’t dewy, all thanks to a sigil I designed to put the kibosh on the idea he should wear makeup. I didn’t mind the makeup as much as the fact it concealed his freckles, particularly my favorite cluster, the one shaped like a daisy under his left eye, and I wasn’t giving them up for the sake of photos that could be manipulated later.
Tonight he wore his hair slicked back in a tail, and already my fingers itched to set the long strands free.
His mother joined him, her dress a crimson sheath with a high lace collar and elegant sleeves that ended in cuffs at her wrists. Everyone rose when she took his arm, and together they walked down the aisle.
Vision blurring, I accepted the Grande Dame’s hand when she offered it and bent to kiss each of her cheeks before she took her position as officiate behind the podium where an open grimoire awaited her.
Linus and I had written our own vows to supplement the ceremony, and we had done it on Eileen’s pages so they would be preserved, and she would be included too.
Hood stepped forward once the Grande Dame was in position and clasped hands with Linus. He drew him into a brief man hug then gestured down the aisle he and Lethe and Midas had paved for us.
“Today you each walked this path in love,” he said, managing to include us both in his speech. “May you use it to find your way back to each other should you ever get lost. Moss will grow over it in time, and grass will spring up around it, but it will always be there, right beneath the surface, if you’re willing to look.”
How easy it was to picture a bench positioned at the end, where we met to resolve all our problems. Or an arbor we strolled under while discussing any issues that might arise. How easy it was to picture a future with Linus, period.
Tears threatened yet again, hotter this time, and I had trouble seeing the moment Linus stepped past Hood to join me, but his hands were cool in mine, and his grip sure. He was ready, and so was I.
“Last chance to chicken out,” I whispered. “I won’t even bawk at you if you run.”
“Your friends and my family would tar and feather me if I tried,” he murmured back. “This is the happiest day of my life, Grier. The only way I’m leaving this spot without you as my wife is if you command me to do so.”
“Would you leave if I ordered you to go?”
“I would do anything to make you happy.”
“Even break your heart into tiny pieces?”
“Even that.”
“Where is Sir Bonks-A-Lot when I need him?” I rubbed my thumbs across his knuckles. “This doubt we both carry? About ourselves? About each other? We’re setting it down tonight, right here, on this very spot, and we are never picking it up again.”
He rolled his shoulders as if shrugging off the weight forever perched there and smiled his tiniest smile. “As you wish.”
A throat cleared, jerking our attention to his mother, who looked ready to start tapping her foot. “Are you two quite done?”
“Yes,” we said in unison, gripping each other’s hands tighter.
“We are gathered here tonight…” her voice rang out, strong and sure after years of speaking in the Lyceum, “…beneath the full moon, in all Hecate’s splendor, to join this man…”
There was more. There must have been. There had to have been.
But I didn’t register anything beyond the steady navy gaze piercing me down to my soul.
As usual, Linus must have been paying better attention than me. He spoke to me, and I couldn’t have told you for the life of me what he said if we hadn’t already practiced this part. The blood rushing in my ears blocked the rest, and the spots in my vision warned me I hadn’t breathed since he started talking.
“I promise to love you all the days of my life,” he ended. “I am yours.”
A sob caught in my throat, and I had to swallow several times before I could stammer out my vows. I might as well have stuffed my cheeks with marshmallows for how much sense I made to my own ears, but as a tear rolled down to fall off his chin, I figured I must have gotten the important parts right.
Puffed up with importance, Oscar presented the pillow, which was fading through his fingers as he ran out of oomph. Ribbon secured two simple platinum bands in the center. Linus collected mine, and I his, before Oscar lost corporality. Happy to set the pillow aside, he grew brighter without the drain on his energy then zipped over to Corbin.
Keet, pleased to have the pillow to himself, nestled down and began chewing on the ribbon, fraying its edges.
As was my right, I had been in charge of Linus’s wedding band, and I took great pains to ensure the sliver of platinum fit over the lip of his engagement ring since he never took it off and refused to cooperate even long enough for the jeweler to solder them together. And, as was his right, he had selected mine.
“By the power vested in me,” the Grande Dame continued, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your groom.”
I flung my arms around Linus’s neck and hauled him down to me, kissing him with every ounce of love in my heart. He returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around my waist and dipping me until my hair brushed the petal-strewn path. Laughing, I clung to him, almost tipping him over and on top of me.
Now that would have made one heck of a front-page photo.
The Grande Dame resumed her place with a recitation of our parents, our titles, blah, blah, blah.
“There is one small thing.” He drew me upright and cupped my hands between us. “Feel this?” He nudged my finger over a bump in the ring that I hadn’t noticed when I tried it on weeks ago. “Press it.”
The bump was a lever of some kind, and it caused hidden sigils to ignite across the band in bright light. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Wait for it.”
“Wait for…?” This time I did swoon. “It’s not real, right? Tell me it’s not real.”
The smooth band had transformed, and I couldn’t decide if fae glamour or necromantic magic fueled the change, and it didn’t matter because oh my goddess what had he done?
A five- or six-karat emerald-cut diamond now perched on my finger. The halo design meant even more diamonds, all of which skirted the line of being too robust to be called pavé, were crusted around the center stone. Even the band was littered with them. It was…massive. Elegant but obnoxious about it.
This was the kind of ring that knocked Society expectations out of the park, the kind of bling his mother would approve of, the kind of rock that might throw my back out over time if I didn’t start wearing a brace or trucking it around in a wheelbarrow.
It was all the things that everyone anticipated, and that’s why I doubted it. Linus would shower me with jewels if I let him, but he knew symbols such as these were meaningless compared to the diamonds dangling from my neck.
“The plain band is quite real, but yes, the rest is a complicated glamour.” He tapped the stone and left a fingerprint. “The day we selected our rings, you told me simple was best. You never wanted to take it off once I put it on you, and now you won’t have to for work.”