There’s a ringing silence following Shira’s words. Kain has his arms crossed, a pensive look sketched into his hard features, while Loren writes down a few notes.Likely composing the next chapter to our story,Jaylie thinks.
But there are gaps in the tale.
“I still don’t understand your part in this, Alora,” Jaylie says gently. “Why did you agree to the wedding at all?”
“Oh! I didn’t. Of course I didn’t.” She points to Kain, his axe still held threateningly at his side. “Hilariously, he was right about the whole enchantment thing. But it was Aurelio who enchanted me, not Shira. When he first made his proposal, my parents were delighted to accept. He had it all: power, prestige, political standing. And he arrived withsomany gifts.” She grimaces at the memory, full lips pressed in a pout. “I hated him, of course. Shira had toldme everything by that point. But for appearances’ sake, before the proposal was finalized, I accepted his gifts. And when my maid clasped the necklace around my neck—” She snaps her fingers. “My mind was gone, locked under his charm. Honestly, I can’t recall anything that happened between that point and when Shira disenchanted it.”
“It was a hell of a thing,” Shira mutters. “It would have been a lot easier if I’d had something likethat.” She juts her sharp chin in the direction of the orb.
Again, the circle is quiet. Jaylie can’t think of any other questions to ask, and the others look properly satisfied. Kain is the first to speak. He strikes the butt of his axe loudly on the cobblestones. “Well,” he rumbles. “I suppose we’ll just have to kill him, then, won’t we?”
Loren frowns to himself. “He does deserve it, I think.”
Jaylie blanches. “We’ll want to clear Shira’s name first,” she stresses. “Or they’ll paint us all as the villains of the story.”
Kain bares his teeth in a fanged grin. “I’ve been the villain many times before. It’s made no difference to me, so long as I can sleep at night.”
“Wise words, Kain,” Morgana barks with a laugh. “I’m in.”
Loren rubs his palms together. “Well, then. We’ll need a plan, won’t we?”
Shira ducks her head in one sharp nod. “Of course. Yes. Come with me.”
As the others rush away to begin their preparations, Jaylie stops Alora and draws her to the side. They stand underneath an awning covered in vines raining purple leaves as Jaylie wrings her hands nervously.
“I just want to tell you how sorry I am,” she starts. Her throat is tight and there’s pressure behind her eyes, making it difficult to continue. “If I had known what Donati had done to you, if I’d known that you were under that spell…I would have never gonethrough with the wedding. It’s such a sacred ceremony, and I hate that you were forced into it. However unknowingly, I hate that I played a part in it.”
Alora reaches forward and clasps Jaylie’s hands in her own. “There is nothing to apologize for, priestess. As you said, you had no idea.” She squeezes Jaylie’s hands comfortingly. “The ceremony was never completed, anyway. We are not married. I am not bound to him.”
Jaylie releases a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, feeling an invisible weight lift from her shoulders. She bows her head over Alora’s hands and presses a brief kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you.”
When she lifts her head again, a small smile curves at the corners of her lips. “I was thinking, if you ever do desire to be married…Well. I would be honored to bless your marriage. I imagine your allegiances may be with other gods, or you may not wish for it to bemeif it would remind you of all that’s happened, but—the offer stands. Should you ever wish it.”
Alora is quiet for some time. She peers upward at the purple vines swaying around them, and when she looks back to Jaylie, her gaze is intent. “How soon could you conduct the ceremony?”
Jaylie blinks. “As soon as you like.”
“Come with me.”
As per Alora’s instructions, Jaylie waits to enter the garden until the moon is at its highest peak in the sky. On her way down the spiraling stairs of Shira’s tower, she gently knocks against Loren’s door. The tower is much bigger on the inside than it appears—impossibly so, really—and Shira had gladly provided rooms for each adventurer. As Jaylie waits for him to answer, she gently cradles a ball of pink light in her cupped hands.
The light illuminates the bard flatteringly when he opens the door wide, seemingly careless of the fact that he wears nothing more than his undergarments. He poses in the doorway, arm propped against the frame, hip jutted out to the side.
“I’ve prayed this day would come,” he says confidently, his voice pitched low. “Are you here to finally answer my prayers, priestess?”
“Marlana’s mercy, Loren,” Jaylie hisses. “No!” She pauses. Considers.Maybe later…“Not now. I need your help with something.”
Loren deflates, but as Jaylie steps close to whisper her plan in his pointed ear, his expression brightens with intrigue. “…It’s what she wants, but it also means her parents never get to make the choice for her,” she finishes. “How quickly can you get ready?” Her dark eyes take in Loren’s state of undress, though this time, she lets her gaze linger.
“You’d be surprised by how many times I’ve had to dress quickly to make a grand escape.”
“I don’t think I’d be surprised at all, actually.”
Loren huffs. “Give me a few moments.” And then, teasingly, “Would you like to watch?”
Jaylie rolls her eyes. “Loren,hurry.”
In an impressively short amount of time, Jaylie and Loren rush down the staircase hand in hand. Loren has his lute strapped over his shoulder and sports a beautifully embroidered emerald jacket and black dress pants. Jaylie herself is dressed in her ceremonial robes of peach, pink, and cream. She steps carefully to keep her garlands of gold coins from clinking noisily as they descend.
