“Marry me,” he repeated, his expression entirely serious now. “Be my wife. Allow me to be tremendously, embarrassingly devoted to you for the remainder of our days.”
“Are—are you certain?” Iris said, sudden insecurity washing over her. “I—my family has nothing to offer. The Starspun name is tarnished, and the scandal itself has barely passed?—”
“Someone accused me recently of hoarding lumyrite-derived wealth, so I suspect that particular hoard will suffice quite comfortably for us both.”
A bright peal of laughter burst from Iris’s lips at that.
“And as for scandals,” he added, “surely they prevent life from becoming too dull?”
She shook her head, though a smile tugged irresistibly at her lips. “And the tea house,” she said firmly. “I do not want to manage it from afar. I wish to behere.”
“I can imagine you nowhere else,” he said, his gaze fixed on hers, “as long as you consent to share your study with me.”
A profound joy, deeper than any she had ever known, spread through her. “Then yes,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Yes, I will marry you, though I warn you that when I promised to argue with you always, I meant it.”
“I would have it no other way,” he murmured, before lowering his lips to hers once more.
As they stood entwined in the early morning light, Iris felt the countless possibilities of their future unfold around them—not as something tenuous or insubstantial, but as a certainty. Whatever paths lay ahead, they would walk them together, their lives now folded into one shared future.
Epilogue
It is here!Today is the day! After all these weeks of preparations and planning! I find myself sitting here in bed, watching the sun rise, filled with such a riot of emotions that I scarcely know how to contain them all. Last night, Grandmother presented me with starlight embroidered gloves to match the veil she wore on her wedding day. White, with traditional starspun threads, crafted especially for me by my aunt. They are exquisite! Grandmother even shed a tear when she gave them to me. I cannot help but remember how cold she was when I first arrived in Bloomhaven. Can you believe we have come so far?
First: A remarkable development indeed, considering she once looked at you as though you were a particularly disappointing teacake. Second: Why am I being subjected to these emotional outpourings at this uncivilized hour?
Because you are the only one I can speak to with everyone else still abed! And I simply cannot sleep a moment longer. My mind is racing with a thousand thoughts. I cannot believe this day has finally arrived! Five weeks of preparations have felt both endlessand impossibly brief. Do you suppose Jasvian is awake as well? Is he nervous? I cannot imagine him pacing about Rowanwood House in his nightclothes, but perhaps he is staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes until
Lord Brooding is undoubtedly engaged in some tediously practical task such as reviewing his vows for grammatical precision or meticulously arranging his cravat pins. Possibly drafting a schedule to ensure the day proceeds with maximum efficiency. ‘Matrimonial logistics,’ if you will.
You’re terrible. He’s not nearly so rigid anymore. And how many times must I ask you to stop referring to him as that? He hardly broods at all these days!
No, I suppose not. Now he merely gazes at you with such nauseating adoration that even Lady Rivenna has been moved to occasional eye-rolling.
Oh I do so love those adoring looks! They make my knees weak and fill my entire body with
Please spare me the intimate particulars of your physical responses. I am a notebook of refinement, not a repository for your amorous sensibilities. We have discussed these improper confidences before, and I remain steadfastly uninterested in the precise manner in which your pulse quickens in his presence.
Such prudishness from an inanimate object! And—oh how the gloves and veil sparkle! They continue to catch my eye from across the room. I cannot stop staring at them. Grandmother’sgift means more than I can express. To see her truly happy for me rather than merely relieved at our family’s salvation is something I never expected. Though I still find myself smiling whenever I recall her utterly flabbergasted expression when Lord Jasvian Rowanwood—the very man with whom I so publicly quarreled at the Opening Ball—formally requested my hand in marriage.
She was not the only one shocked. Half of Bloomhaven is still coming to terms with this dramatic transformation from sworn enemies to devoted lovers.
It is marvelously romantic, is it not?
Yes, nothing says ‘true love’ quite like beginning with venomous hostility followed by chandelier destruction.
A memory I shall cherish forever.
I perceive you are employing mockery at my expense.
I would never! It is indeed a moment I shall never forget. And oh I cannot WAIT to see him standing there at the end of the aisle today! He’ll be wearing that new coat he commissioned—it complements the light gray in his eyes so perfectly. But I still worry about the gathering itself. What if someone causes a scene over the presence of human guests at a fae wedding? What if my paper butterflies refuse to cooperate with the flower arrangements? What if Orrit attempts to assault Lady Thornhart with another scone for suggesting the cake is too simple?
If any of those delightful scenarios unfold, I expect a full account afterward. Particularly the last one.
You’re not helping!
On the contrary. I am helping you confront the truth that minor catastrophes are inevitable. The question is not whether something will go wrong, but whether you will allow such trivialities to diminish what is, by all accounts, meant to be a joyous occasion.
When did you become so wise?
