Page 63 of Skyshade
“There’s a ceremony,” she said. “Some sort of hand ritual. Then, necklaces are presented, as is custom.” She nodded toward Isla. “You already have yours, of course.”
Isla froze. Was she supposed to have one for Grim?
Astria dragged her along, not missing a beat. “This is where I become useful,” she said, pulling a simple chain from her pocket. It reminded her of the one Grim had worn during the curses, with the charm that made him impervious to them. She handed it to Isla. “A family heirloom.”
Isla took it. It was cold and smooth against her fingers. She gripped it like an anchor through her confusing emotions as Astria continued to lead her through the castle. She wasn’t sure where they were going, until they reached the end of the wing.
Then, she remembered.
The Nightshade castle had always made her feel like she was drowning in ink. Every surface was black. Most windows had been built over during the curses, and the floors were gleaming sheets of dark marble. It felt like being underground, trapped, without any sunlight or nature.
But, on its edge sat an orb of life.
Grim had built it for her.
It was a greenhouse. The walls were glass, and every shade and shape of flower bloomed before her. A fountain sat at its center, with a statue of a smiling woman holding her tiny dragon, flowers in her hair and between her fingers.
Standing in front of it was Grim.
There were hundreds of people in the room. Watching. Judging. Even more were outside, observing from beyond the glass.
But it might as well just have been them.
He was wearing armor without spikes and his shining black cape. Her own dress had a sheer cape with roses knitted into the fabric, a nod to her Wildling realm.
Grim had chosen this place. He must have known it would feel like home. He must have known it would mean a lot to her that he had included the Wildlings, who had their own section right behind him.
She remembered Grim presenting the greenhouse to her. It was her wedding present. She had always bemoaned the lack of color and life here, so he had built her this. A spot of life in Nightshade, just for her, his Wildling wife.
She stepped forward.
The crowd watched her. Some looked curious. Others regarded her like an abomination.
Grim looked at her the same way he had at their first ceremony. Like she was the beginning and end of his world. Like he would be content to live in this very moment forever.
He broke into a smile. People whispered. They seemed unnerved by it. She wondered if his people had ever seen him smile.
He reached out his hand.
She took it.
When she turned, she finally noticed the woman behind Grim, the one who would be handling the ceremony.
Eta. The leader of the prophet-followers. She frowned. Why was she here? She hadn’t even considered that she left the mountain.
Had Grim made the climb again to ask? Had they let him in this time?
She didn’t seem to be the only one surprised by Eta’s presence. Members of Grim’s court—and many of the guests—whispered, watching.
“Today, it is my honor to join the ruler of Nightshade with the ruler of Wildling. A powerful union that has not existed in millennia.”She paused and looked around meaningfully at the guests. “A union that was fated. A partnership that was written.”
Silence, then whispers. She guessed many on Nightshade held the prophet’s opinion in high regard, because many in the crowd gasped at this revelation.
Grim’s idea to have the wedding to gain support for their union was working.
She was told to face Grim. To raise her hand. He was told to meet it. His hand was huge, engulfing hers. His fingers gently slid against her own, callouses scraping. Sparks whispered down her arm at his touch.
“The clasp,” Eta said, and Isla assumed she meant the necklace, the one she had for Grim. She dropped it in the prophet-follower’s grip with her other hand.
