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Asher pulls away, wiping the endless tears from my cheeks. He presses his lips to my cheeks and licks my tears away, swallowing them down like they belong to him. “Forgive me, Pen. Forgive me for being such an idiot. For lying and keeping things from you and for not being brave enough to face what I feel for you.”
I let out a long breath, leaning my cheek against his chest. “There’s nothing to forgive,” I whisper.
“But there is, Penelope. Please, I need to hear it.”
I pull away to see the last traces of agony written in his features. With my fingers, I trace his eyebrows, cheeks, lips. My touch drifts to the edge of his scar, the bumpy skin familiar beneath my fingertips. Asher shivers, closing his eyes when I touch it. Letting out a sigh, I nod. “I forgive you, Asher. But please, no more lies.”
“No more lies,” he promises. “I don’t think I could survive anything like this again.”
A grin tugs at my lips. “And there are only so many diamond mines in Nord available for you to pledge your love to me. I’m not sure how much bigger than this you can go.”
Asher chuckles, a deep, warm sound that rumbles through his chest and into mine. He touches his nose to mine, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “The only thing I could give my Queen was a slice of her own country back before I pledge my life at her feet. I’m not planning on screwing up like this again.”
“What will your father say?”
“I don’t care.” The words slide out of his lips so surely that I know he’s telling the truth.
Whatever happens after today—after the Roston diamond mines are signed over to Nord’s national resource group—it won’t change the simple fact that has changed the course of my life forever. “I love you,” I say, tilting my head toward his to ask for another kiss.
“You have no idea how much I love hearing those words, Pen.”
“So say them back.” I grin.
Asher’s lips brush mine. “I love you.” He lays a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m in love with you.” Another kiss. “And I’ll never stop loving you.” A third kiss to seal that vow I thought I’d never hear. Asher drops to his knees and lays a soft kiss on my stomach, letting out a shaky sigh. “And you, baby, I’ll devote my life to making you happy. I’ll do anything for you, anything for your mother, anything to make sure the two of you have everything you need. I promise.”
I thread my fingers through Asher’s dark hair, sighing out the last of the chill inside me. He’s the boy who walked through fire and lived—and the man who broke through the layer of ice around my heart.
My one, my only, my everything. My Asher.
Epilogue
Penelope
Asher and I get married on a cool September afternoon, about six weeks after our conversation in Roston. We do it at the Summer Palace, where we can have privacy. It’s quiet, with only family and a few close friends in attendance—but it’s perfect. Asher looks dapper in his navy suit, his eyes shining when he watches me walk down the aisle.
I struggle not to cry the whole ceremony, which is a feeling I’m still not accustomed to. I’ve spent the past decade feeling cold distance from my emotions, but I can’t say I mind. Feeling all my emotions without restraint is intense, but it’s worth it. It means I can open myself up to love and let myself believe good things are coming.
After the ceremony, when we make it to the main ballroom of the Summer Palace, I lean my head on Asher’s shoulder. Beside me, my husband stiffens. I follow his gaze to the corner of the room, where his brother Logan stands by the wall. Over the past few weeks, Asher’s told me about Logan—about how inadequate he felt next to him when they grew up. How Logan and he were pitted against each other, and how he wishes things had been different between them.
Asher invited his whole family to the wedding and expected none of them to show up, but I guess he was wrong about that.
His brother is handsome, in a prettier way than Asher. He doesn’t have the ruggedness that I love in my husband. Logan pushes himself off the wall and walks up to us, chin down. He glances at me, bowing. “Your Majesty.”
I squeeze Asher’s hand, inclining my head at his brother.
My husband clears his throat. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“To your wedding? I wouldn’t miss it.” Logan’s eyes shine, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “I just wanted to say…congratulations. You deserve happiness.”
Redness flushes over Asher’s cheeks, and he drops his head. I can tell he’s struggling for words. My brave, selfless man, who gave everything up to prove his love for me, is surprised that his brother made the trip up here. Surprised to hear a kind word from him.
I extend my arms toward Logan, wrapping him in a quick hug. “Thank you for coming.”
Asher does the same, clearing his throat as he pulls away. He looks dangerously close to crying. He extends a hand toward his brother and they shake, holding each other’s gaze.
Emotion chokes me—even more than when I walked down the aisle. Asher’s parents might not be here, but his brother’s presence means a lot. It means there might be a chance for reconciliation with his own family. It means, maybe, he didn’t give everything up to be with me.
Music starts, a waiter appears with drinks of champagne and sparkling grape juice for me, and I welcome Logan to my palace, my kingdom, my life.
