I reached for Meghan’s hand, exhaling slowly as I made my oath.
“Meghan Chase,” I began, gazing into her eyes, “from this day forth, I vow to be your husband and your knight, to stand with you when no others will, to protect you and your kingdom with everything I have for the rest of my life. I swear I will be faithful, and I will love you until the very last breath leaves my body. Because you have more than my heart and my mind—you also own my soul.” Meghan gave me a brilliant smile, her eyes going misty behind the veil.
“Ash,” she murmured, and even though she didn’t say it out loud, I heard the echo of my True Name in her voice. “It’s because of you that I can be here today. You have always been there, never wavering, protecting me with no thought for yourself. You’ve been my teacher, my knight and my only love. Now, it’s my turn to make that promise.” She squeezed my hand, her voice soft but never faltering. “Today, I vow that we will never be apart again. I promise that I will be forever by your side, and I will be ready to face everything the world has to offer us.”
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“Very touching,” remarked Grimalkin, scratching behind an ear. We both ignored him, and he sat up with a sniff. “Well, then. Shal we end this exercise ad nauseam? If there are any here who object to this joining, let them speak now or forever hold their peace. And if you do object, please have a valid reason for the objection so I do not have to stay here while you debate the problem.” I could sense the rulers of both courts wanting to say something, argu-ments and objections ready to burst forth. But what could they offer? I wasn’t part of the Winter Court, a mere mortal, and Meghan was a queen. There was nothing they could say that was a valid argument.
Grimalkin knew it as well, for after only a moment or two of strained silence, he stood up and raised his voice.
“Then let it be known, before these witnesses and the courts, that these two are joined forever as husband and wife, and let no force in the mortal world or Faery tear them apart. I now present to you the Queen and Consort of the Iron Court.” He yawned and looked at us affectionately. “I suppose now is the part where you kiss the—well, never mind, then.”
I had already raised Meghan’s veil and drawn her close. And beneath the great tree, in the midst of a roaring, hooting faery crowd, I kissed my new bride until everything around us faded away.
Time passed, and I slowly adjusted to life in the Iron Court. I became used to the gremlins scurrying around the castle, trailing Meghan like faithful dogs yet still managing to wreck havoc where they passed. I no longer went for my sword when a squad of Iron knights approached Meghan.
The curious, suspicious stares when I passed grew less and less frequent, until I became just another presence in the castle.
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The Iron fey, I discovered, were a much more structured group than the faeries of Summer and Winter. Except for the ever-chaotic gremlins, they welcomed order, understood rank and hierarchy and the chain of command. I was prince consort to their queen, second only to Meghan herself: therefore, I was to be obeyed. Even Glitch, Meghan’s First Lieutenant, rarely questioned me. And the Iron knights obeyed my orders without fail. It was strange, not having to constantly watch my back for fear someone might stick a knife in it. Of course, there were always squabbles and politics within the Iron Court, as there were in any court of Faery. But for the most part, the fey here were more straightforward and businesslike, not seeking to trap me in a deadly game of words just for the fun of it.
Once I figured that out, I began to appreciate the Iron Realm a lot more.
Especially when, as a mortal, I could do things I never would’ve dreamed of doing as a fey.
Not long after the wedding, I awoke alone in the bed, with light coming from the room adjacent to us—Meghan’s office. Rising, I wandered into the room to find Meghan sitting at her desk with the small, f lat screen she carried around like a tablet. It was a truly foreign device to me; with a mere touch of the screen’s face, she could pull up “files” and
“email,” make pictures bigger or smaller, or whisk them away with a f lick of her hand. I, of course, thought it was Iron glamour that allowed such magic, though when I mentioned this to Diode, a hacker elf in charge of the castle’s computer systems, he laughed so hysterically he couldn’t answer me, and I left in annoyance.
“Hey,” I murmured, slipping my arms around her from behind. “What are you doing?”