“Forget I said that,” he said, closer to me when I looked up. “I have no idea what I was talking about. Maybe I didn’t even say that.”
My lips twitched. “You totally said that.”
“You’re right. I did. Forget it.” His eyes searched mine. “Tell me why this terrifies you. Please?”
My breath snagged. “Because you…you could break my heart again. And what we’re doing? It’s bigger than us, and even your brother. You have to know that. We could actually change things. Not just for your people, but also for the people of Solis.”
“I know that,” he whispered, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes luminous.
“And things are already complicated and messy, and acknowledging what I want—what I feel—just makes it all the more complicated and scary. Because this time…” Tears burned the back of my throat. “This time, I don’t know how I will get over that. I know that probably makes me sound weak and immature or whatever, but it’s just something I know.”
“It’s not weak.” Casteel came forward, but he didn’t stand there. He didn’t sit beside me. He lowered himself to his knees in front of me. “Your heart, Poppy? It is a gift I do not deserve.” He placed his hands on my knees as he lifted his gaze to mine. “But it is one I will protect until my dying breath. I don’t know what that means.” He stopped, curling his fingers into the leggings, into my skin. “Okay. Fuck. I do know what that means. It’s why I’m in awe of everything you say or do—everything you are. It’s why you’re the first thing I think about when I wake and the last thought I have when I fall asleep, replacing everything else. It’s why when I’m with you, I can be quiet. I can just be. You know what that means.”
He took one of my hands and pressed it to his chest—his heart. “Tell me what that means. Please.”
Please.
Twice in one conversation he’d said that, a word that didn’t pass his lips often. And how could I refuse?
I didn’t just focus on him to get what I was now learning was a cursory reading of his emotions. I opened myself, forming the invisible tether to him and what he felt. It came back to me in a rush, and it was shocking.
Not the heavy and thick-like-cream feel of concern. He worried—about what was going to happen to his brother, his kingdom, to me. It wasn’t the cool splash of surprise that made me think he didn’t quite believe this conversation. The tangy, almost bitter taste of sadness was minimal, and the only time his agony hadn’t been raw and nearly overpowering was when I’d taken his pain from him. That surprised me, yes, but what shocked me more was the sweetness on the tip of my tongue.
“Do you feel that?” he asked. “What does it feel like?”
“Like…it reminds me of chocolate and berries.” I blinked back tears. “Berries—strawberries? I’ve felt that from Vikter—from Ian and my parents. But I’ve never felt it like this—like it’s more decadent somehow.”
And I thought I knew what it was. It was the emotion behind the long looks and the seeking touches. The feeling behind the way his arm always tightened around me when we rode together and why he was always messing with my hair. It was the emotion that drove him to draw that line he wouldn’t cross with me. It was why he wouldn’t use compulsion, and it was what allowed him to want to protect me but demanded that he allow me to protect myself. It was how when he was with me, he didn’t think of his kingdom, his brother, or the time he’d been a captive.
And it was one of many things forbidden to me as the Maiden.
It was love.
“Don’t cry.” He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the center of my palm.
“I’m not crying. I’m not sad,” I told him, and he grinned. The stupid dimple in his right cheek appeared. “I hate that stupid dimple.”
“You know what I think?” He kissed the tip of my finger.
“I don’t care.”
The dimple in his left cheek appeared. “I think you feel the exact opposite when it comes to my stupid dimples.”
He was right, and I shuddered.
Casteel let go of my hands and stretched up, cupping my cheeks. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine, and I swore I felt his hands tremble. “Always,” he whispered in the breath we shared. “Your heart was always safe with me. It always will be. There is nothing I will protect more fiercely or with more devotion, Poppy. Trust in that—in what you feel from me. In me.”
Trust.
As Casteel, he’d never asked me to trust him. He knew how fragile that was. One crack could bring it all down.
But I knew what I felt.
I nodded. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
“Neither do I.”
“I…I don’t know what that means for us,” I whispered. “Your people and your parents…they don’t trust me. You’re basically the closest thing to immortal there is, and I’m…my lifespan is a blink. What do we do now?”
“We don’t worry about my people or my parents or our lifespans. Not right now. Not even later. We take this day by day. This is new to you, and in a way, it’s new to me. Let’s make a deal.”
“You and your deals.”
His lips curved into a smile against mine. “Let’s make a deal that we don’t borrow tomorrow’s problems today.”
Tomorrow always came soon enough, but I nodded. Because in the same breath, tomorrow wasn’t today’s problem. “I can agree to that.”
“Good.” He drew back, and I thought there was a sheen to his eyes. “If we’re going to do this, for real, then I feel like I need to make amends. And I know the list of things I should apologize for is long, but I think I should start with this.” He moved then, rising so he was on one knee before me.
My heart hadn’t stopped racing and swelling from the moment we started to really talk. But now, it beat so fast, I didn’t know how I didn’t pass out. He took my hand, and I wondered if he could feel it trembling.
He could.
Casteel folded both hands around mine, steadying my hand. “Penellaphe Balfour?” He stared up at me, and there was no teasing glint to his eyes, no smirk to his lips. No mask. Just him. Casteel Hawkethrone Da’Neer. “Will you do me the honor of allowing me to one day become worthy of you? Will you marry me? Today?”
“Yes. I will give you the honor of becoming my husband, because you’re already worthy of me.”
Casteel’s eyes closed as he shuddered.
“I will marry you.” I dipped down, kissing his forehead. “Today.”
It was like nothing and everything changed after I accepted Casteel’s proposal.
I stood in the bathing chamber, skin mostly dry as I tied the sash on the robe. A pink flush stained my cheeks, and there was a near feverish brightness to my eyes.
It was strange, the nervous flutter in my chest and stomach. Marrying Casteel wasn’t something new, but it was real now, and that changed everything.
What was also strange was the unexpected feeling of lightness, as if a tremendous, suffocating weight had been lifted from me. I hadn’t expected that. I’d thought more guilt would settle on me after admitting what I felt to Casteel. Instead, the guilt and the feeling that I was betraying others and myself had left me.
As I dragged the brush through my drying hair, I realized the guilt had actually left me in the cavern. I just hadn’t realized it.
And even though a lot of unknown still faced us—the encroaching Ascended and what felt like the first act in a war that hadn’t been decreed yet. How Casteel’s parents would respond to the news of his marriage, and if his people would ever accept me. His brother and mine, and the whole biological differences between us that would one day become an issue, gods willing, when I aged and he barely showed signs of the passing decades—I was going to do exactly what Casteel had said.
We wouldn’t borrow from tomorrow’s problems. Or even the problems we could very well face in a handful of hours. Because I was about to marry the man I’d fallen in love with.
The man I knew felt the same, even if he hadn’t spoken the words.
I was happy.
I was scared.
I was hopeful.
I was excited.
And all of those emotions were real.
A knock on the main door drew me from the bathroom. I opened it to find Vonetta waiting, a splash of red draped over one arm and holding a small pouch in the other.
“I hear there’s going to be a wedding today,” Vonetta announced as she swept into the room. “One that Kieran is going to be so irritated he’s not here for.”
“I sort of, kind of, wish he was too. Not that I’ll ever admit that to him,” I said, and she laughed. Closing the door, I followed her into the bedroom. “It doesn’t seem right that he’s not here when Casteel marries.”
“It does feel weird, but I’m relieved. Not that he’s missing the wedding.” She looked over her shoulder at me as she laid what turned out to be a gown across the chaise. “But because he won’t be here later.”
“I know.”
“Casteel is…he has a good heart. What he did by sending Kieran away? They’re bonded, and I…I don’t know if anyone else would’ve done that.”
“He does have a good heart,” I agreed, feeling my cheeks flush. Vocally complimenting Casteel wasn’t something I did often.
A smile appeared as she turned back to the gown, straightening the skirt. “Anyway, Kieran is probably glad he’s not here for the actual ceremony part.”
My heart skipped a beat. I knew very little about an Atlantian wedding ceremony. The ones in Solis sometimes lasted days. The bride would cut her hair, and there was bathing in water anointed by the Priestesses and Priests. There were no vows, but many feasts. A particular part always came to mind when I thought of the Atlantians. “Can I ask you something?”