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She turns to address Ris.
“I’m sorry it took so much for me to come to my senses brother.”
“Don’t worry sister, the slate is wiped clean.”
“Well, congratulations to you both. I shan’t trouble you any longer.”
A wave of realization comes over Rhovier’s face as if remembering an important detail.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” she says, removing a silver elven charm from her breast pocket. “This is for you Ezra.” She pins the charm on his suit before taking a step back. There’s a glimmer in her eyes as she winks at us, then disappears into the crowd.
“Well,” I stammer. “I never expected that from her in a million years.”
“Me neither,” replies Ris, breaking into a laugh. “I thought I was about to see my wife and my sister brawl each other.”
“I’m just done taking shit from anyone who thinks I’m below them.”
“This defiance of yours… keep it, it’s a good thing.”
We smile at each other, taking one another’s hands as we proceed. Who I presume to be his parents turn to us as we approach, brandishing warm smiles.
“Hello my son,” greets his father.
“You were magnificent up there,” adds his mother before turning to me.
“Sienna, it is a pleasure to meet you again after so long,” she says, bowing to me.
“Indeed. My name is Rocelot, and this is my wife, Rhobuna, if you don’t remember our names.”
He bows to me too as I return the gesture.
Dark elves curtseying to me… I can get used to this.
“I remember Rocelot but thank you for the reminder. I thank you both for allowing us to hold the wedding here. Your gardens are lovely.”
“Thank you,” beams Rhobuna. “It’s a relieving sight to see our son so happy. For the past two years, he seemed off.”
“And now it looks as though he’s regained his strength,” chuckles Rocelot. “If I didn't know any better, I’d say you are his muse.”
“Believe it or not, I only figured that out recently.”
“Guys,” interjects an embarrassed Ris. “There’s someone important I’d like for you to meet.”
He steps forward, our son Ezra looking shyly at his grandparents.
“Hello, how do you do?” greets Rocelot, shaking the boy's hand.
“Such a handsome boy, like her his father!” exclaims Rhobuna. “He really looks like the both of you.”
Ezra reaches out for his grandmother, who happily takes him into her arms. Ris wraps an arm around my waist, the both of us smiling as we watch two generations come together.
“I just want for you to know,” says Rocelot. “We truly do view him as family. Caste and race do not matter here, and I hope for Vhoig to continue developing its progressive nature.”
His statement comforts me, knowing I’ve been accepted into a welcoming family.
“Thank you, that really means a lot,” I exclaim.
“So, any plans for a honeymoon?” asks Rhobuna. “No marriage is complete without one!”
