“Keris …” Tears flowed down her face, cutting stinging paths over her ravaged cheek.
“Maridrina and Ithicana are bound by marriage,” he said, dropping to his knees before her. “And soon to be bound by common blood with an heir. I … I would offer you the same union between legitimacy to the throne and ending the war. I ask you all now to bend the knee to the rightful Empress Maridrina and Valcotta. If you’ll have me.”
This is a dream, she thought. It has to be.
Yet as she stared down into the azure eyes that possessed her soul, Zarrah knew that it was real.
That against every odd, they would be together in a way that honored their nations, and themselves.
“I will have you.” She dropped to her knees, kissing his lips. “From now until the end of days, I will have you.”
Only Keris, Lara, and Aren were not on their knees, but they stood with their hands pressed to their
“Because,” he said, “it should be signed by Maridrina’s queen.” Clearing his throat, he said loudly, their kingdom first,” he said quietly. “That is the cost of the title, to ever and always put the nation and
“I will have you.” She dropped to her knees, kissing his lips. “From now until the end of days, I will have you.”
“WELL, WHAT DO you think?” Keris leaned back, admiring the white stone construction,
the masons working on the final decorative touches.
“It’s smaller than Ithicana’s bridge,” Dax answered, and Keris turned to glare at
him, only to discover his friend was grinning. “It’s a fine bridge, Your Highness. I look forward to walking back and forth over it many times.”
It was a fine bridge.
Not just in its construction—Keris had approved every detail—but in the meaning of it, for it crossed the Anriot, connecting both sides of Nerastis. No more would Maridrinians and Valcottans skulk across the rubble of bridges torn down with violence, braving alligators and worse for illicit encounters with one another. Now they would walk freely, trade freely, and in time, he knew that Nerastis had the potential to become the greatest city on the continent, for it united the two most powerful nations.
“I need to get back to the palace,” Dax said. “Her Grace holds to a schedule, and we are to be on a ship back to Vencia in an hour. If I make Sarhina late, I’ll be subjected to her verbal flagellation.”
“That’s a big word, Dax,” Keris murmured. “You’re spending too much time with politicians.” For all his distaste of snakes and his fear of Sarhina, his friend had taken well to the role of ambassador, traveling back and forth between Vencia and Eranahl, as the weather of the Tempest Seas permitted.
Not that peace was in question, with Lara’s place in Ithicana more secure by the day and Sarhina ruling Maridrina as its much-beloved queen.
“Likely so,” Dax agreed. “But the pay is good, and I’ve come to have a certain fondness for snake meat.”
“There are worse things.” Keris considered the date, then said, “Ithicana might have its heir by the time you return again.”
“I pray so,” Dax answered. “Will give Aren’s harridan grandmother something to do other than hassle the rest of us, though I expect she and Lara may come to blows during delivery.” He then clapped him on the arm. “I should really go. Take care of yourself, Keris.”
“Likewise,” Keris answered, watching as Dax crossed over the bridge to the Maridrinian side, disappearing into the mass of construction along the waterfront.
Saam straightened from where he leaned against a pillar, the rest of Keris’s Valcottan bodyguard hovering behind him. “Ready, Your Highness?”
Keris gave one last look at the bridge, the sight bringing an unexpected flood of emotion into his heart, and then he nodded.
“Good,” Saam said. “Because it looks like the Empress has arrived.” Lifting a hand, he gestured to the Valcottan palace, where Zarrah’s personal banner slowly rose up the flagpole, the sight causing Keris’s heart to quicken.
She was here.
Keris forced himself to hold a measured stride as he walked through the streets, construction loud and raucous on all sides, his guard watchful for any threats, for there were still many who would not allow old grievances to die. People who clung to old ways and even older hatreds, and would not hesitate to put a knife in his back, prince consort to the Empress or no.
He’d married Zarrah soon after her coronation, both of them still bearing bruises and wounds from their fight with Petra, and there had been something fitting about that. Theirs was a star-crossed love, but they’d fought long and hard to change the alignment of those stars, and their scars were markers of that victory.
Zarrah was Valcotta’s Empress. The Imperial Army’s general. The rebellion’s heart. And now she was his wife.
Keris relished the feel of calling her so, and sick of propriety, he took two quick steps and jumped onto a barrel. Reaching up, he hauled himself onto the roof of the building.
“Your Highness!” Saam shouted. Then, when he was ignored, “Keris! Come back!”
He left Saam’s voice to chase him on the wind as he cut over the rooftops of the city, traveling routes he’d investigated many times before and arriving at the palace long before he would have if he’d taken the streets. Leaping the gap between a roof and the palace wall, he nodded at the wide-eyed guard watching him, then descended the steps two at a time to the courtyard below.
Zarrah, surrounded by an escort commanded by Daria, was handing off the reins of her horse to a groom. He drank in the sight of her. Her face still bore the marks from Petra’s claws, and likely always would, yet rather than diminishing her loveliness, they gave her a fierce beauty. She wore no armor, and the silk of her trousers and blouse clung to every curve, the leanness of the starvation
“I need to get back to the palace,” Dax said. “Her Grace holds to a schedule, and we are to be on a she’d endured in prison vanquished.
“That’s a big word, Dax,” Keris murmured. “You’re spending too much time with politicians.” For He watched the corner of her mouth curve up as she recognized the sound of his steps, though she didn’t turn. Allowed him to watch her right up to the moment he stood before her, bowing low.
“Imperial Majesty.”
Her dark eyes caught his, pulling him into their depths as she murmured, “Husband. I was under the impression that you weren’t supposed to be exerting that shoulder.”
Husband. Hearing her say it sent a flood of desire rushing through his veins, and he lifted her into his arms. “Tell anyone asking for her time that she will be busy for the next few hours,” he called over his shoulder at Daria.
Daria smirked and shouted, “A few hours? You’re a man after my own heart, Your Highness.”
But Keris was already walking, carrying his wife, his empress, into the palace. Bemused servants bowed low as they passed, and Zarrah said, “Your shoulder, Keris.”
“Is fine.” He climbed the stairs, heading down the hall to the royal chamber, the guards outside the door swinging them open at their approach. “No interruptions.”
As soon as the door shut, her legs were around him, her lips on his.
“I missed you,” she said between kisses, her fingers in his hair. “I’m sorry I took so long.”
There had been demands for her in Pyrinat as she established her control, her rule, just as there had been demands for him here, negotiating terms with Sarhina. But Keris didn’t want to think about any of that. “You’re here now.”
“Good,” Saam said. “Because it looks like the Empress has arrived.” Lifting a hand, he gestured to Laying her on the bed, he started on the buttons of her blouse, but there was no patience left in his soul, so Keris pulled. Tiny silver buttons rained across the bed, Zarrah laughing even as she made him promise to buy her a new wardrobe.