Page 199 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

A draft of air gently pushed my hand upward. It was Camrick, acting like the brother I wished I’d had years before. He winked when I took over, presenting my hand. When Owain grasped it, a comforting heat spread through me as our bond awakened.

He slid the ring on, inspected it for half a heartbeat, then stood, still holding my hand. The unoccupied one lifted up and tilted my chin to meet his gaze. “I love you,” he said, shadows crowding the edges of his eyes with a kind of softness I hadn’t seen from them before.

He shifted to whisper into my ear, “I promise this ring won’t blow up.”

Exactly the right words to bring a smile back to my face amidst the overwhelming emotions.

The cheers crashed over us like a wave, until the stone walls threw the sound back doubled. Reina was crying softly on Richart’s shoulder. Camrick finally let the goofy smile blossom on his face. And the snow scattered the light in every direction like the gods themselves had chosen to bear witness.

I looked up at Owain, and he was already studying me. He leaned to press his forehead to mine. The cheers in the courtyard became nothing more than background murmur as I looked into his indigo eyes.

Snow began to fall around us as I kissed my fiancé for the first time. A single flake caught in his lashes and melted before either of us thought to move.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he whispered. The words settled into the bond between us, becoming hope as much as truth.

The world would find us harder to break than it expected.

Epilogue 1

Owain

Faced with an avalanche of concerns from the council, I resolved, at least temporarily, to think about none of them.

The corridors were quiet at this hour, only men shifting in armor and the sound of the winter breeze moving through the castle’s eaves. I’d been king for less than a month, married less than a week, so the sound of my father’s and brother’s titles assigned to me continued to be a shock.

A kingdom preparing for war had a distinct cadence. The melody was punctuated by the clang of hammer on steel, the bark of orders in the courtyard below, and the heavy, rhythmic tread of men preparing for a future thrust upon them by greed. The din filled the spaces between thoughts until it was hard to remember what silence had ever felt like. It had already settled into the stones of the keep.

The situation was moving fast. Darreth had barred the Assembly from its borders without drawing a sword. No official envoys would be admitted. Emrys and Isca had stopped just short of declaring war—exactly the position Larethia found herself in. And Gelida was in disarray.

It was a topic on everyone’s lips most days and nights. Yet, as I approached our rooms, the sounds of war lost the battle to beauty and peace.

Lunette was singing to herself. I didn’t know the tune, but its beautiful, flowing notes conjured images of a languid early autumn river in my mind. With her soft lilac eyes and fiery auburn hair, she was still the woman I couldn’t look away from. Seeing her now took me back to that cozy cabin where we first met—and the vibrant explosion of yellows, reds, and oranges bleeding through the open windows.

I eased the door open, trying to make as little noise as possible. Through the gap, I could see her at the writing desk. Here, in private, she was my Luna, not Queen Lunette. Her gown’s sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and an ink smudge marked her wrist from her writing. She sat sideways in the chair, one leg tucked under her, feathertop of her quill waving in the air as she sang softly.

The simple tiara Anne and Reina had finally convinced her was now a daily necessity rested on the corner of the desk. She’d removed it and placed it beside her, treating it as if it were a simple bonnet, completely free from the self-consciousness I’d expected her to show during these early weeks.

But she looked completely, utterly at home.

Mine.

My wife, my mate, my everything. I still didn’t know why Fate had blessed me with her, but I thanked the goddess with my every breath.

Behind her Muffin was attempting to climb the curtain beside the balcony door. A ribbon of green silk trailed from his mouth. I looked from the ribbon to the open drawer beside Lunette’s desk, then back to him.

Muffin froze.

I narrowed my eyes.

He narrowed his right back then resumed climbing as if kings were beneath his concern.

Lunette sanded the page, and the melody shifted. I must’ve made a sound, or the bond must’ve carried my attention to her senses, because she finally noticed me staring at her.

“You’re lurking in the shadows,” she said, pointing the quill at me, lips curved.

“Just…standing in the doorway of my own castle.”

“Mmm.” She returned to her correspondence. “Have you resolved anything productive in the doorway, or were you planning to stand there until I undress for bed?”