Page 96 of Crown of Storm and Silence
"Indeed." Seraphina's smile widens, revealing far too many teeth. "I do hope you'll be cooperative during your stay. Uncooperative guests tend to have such unfortunate experiences with the local wildlife."
"Ladies," I interrupt before this can escalate into actual violence, "Can we move on. I would love to keep dwelling on the aesthetics, but I want to get on with the ceremony as soon as possible. I'm quite eager to be bound to my wife again."
"Of course," Seraphina agrees, producing a ledger that whispers secrets when she opens it. "I've prepared acomprehensive schedule for your stay. Three days of preparation, purification rituals, and ceremonial requirements. The blood bond renewal tonight, purification tomorrow, and the wedding ceremony at the stroke of midnight on the third day. Very traditional timing for demon realm weddings."
"Three days?" Nesilhan asks, and I can hear the trap closing in her voice. I want to haul her away from Erlik's claws and eliminate the wedding coordinator. I should have known that my father would want to keep us here as long as possible.
"Oh yes," Erlik confirms, his black eyes studying her face that makes my blood fucking boil. The bastard likes taunting me. "These rituals require proper... preparation. The magical alignments must be perfect; the ceremonial components precisely arranged. We can't rush such delicate work. After all, we're dealing with the impossible—life created from light and shadow, prophecies that reshape reality, power that could topple gods." His smile turns predatory. "Such magnificent potential deserves our full attention."
"Accommodations have been arranged," Seraphina continues, consulting her whispering ledger with professional efficiency. "The bridal suite is in the east tower—lovely views of the Garden of Eternal Lamentations. Very atmospheric. The groom's quarters are in the west wing, because tradition demands separation before the ceremony."
"No." The word cuts through the air with absolute finality. "We stay together."
Erlik raises an eyebrow with mock surprise. "Oh, my darling boy, the tradition?—"
"Fuck tradition," I snarl, my shadows erupting outward with enough force to crack the marble beneath our feet. "My wife stays with me. End of discussion."
"How... protective," Seraphina murmurs, though her ledger snaps shut with obvious displeasure. "Though I suppose we could arrange adjoining chambers?—"
"The same room," I interrupt, stepping closer to Nesilhan in a movement that screams possession. "The same bed. The same air. We're already married, in case you've forgotten—this whole production is just family theater. And I don't separate from my wife for anyone's entertainment."
"And the fairy," Seraphina adds with casual dismissal, "can stay in the auxiliary chambers. We've prepared a charming little space in the lower levels. Excellent acoustics—you can hear the screaming from three different torture chambers. Very immersive."
Banu's response is immediate and acidic. "Oh, how thoughtful! And here I was worried you'd stuck me somewhere unpleasant. Nothing says 'valued guest' like the sweet lullaby of tortured souls." She examines her nails with exaggerated interest. "Though between your face and screaming victims, I'd probably choose the screaming. At least they have an excuse for looking tragic."
"Well," Seraphina says with false sweetness, "where else would one house the entertainment?"
"Entertainment?" Banu snorts. "Sweetheart, I've seen moss grow with more personality than you've shown. The only entertaining thing here is watching you pretend those cobwebs you call hair are intentional." She tilts her head. "Or is decay just the fashion in the Shadow realm now? Hard to keep up."
"Banu should have a room near our chamber," Nesilhan says firmly, cutting through the verbal sparring. "Lady Banu is my advisor."
Erlik waves a dismissive hand. "Of course. Family accommodations for family friends. Now then—" His smile turnspredatory. "Shall we proceed with the blood bond renewal? No point delaying the inevitable."
"Finally,"I mutter, already moving toward the throne room. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can stop pretending this is anything other than an elaborate trap.
The throne room reveals itself in all its theatrical glory—obsidian and crystal and enough magical amplification to raise the dead. Or bind the living, depending on your perspective.
"Magnificent as always," Erlik says, surveying the preparations. "Seraphina does such lovely work with ceremonial spaces."
"It's certainly... something," Banu observes dryly. "Very 'ancient evil meets interior design budget.’"
The threat implicit in his words makes my shadows writhe with protective fury, but the poison leaves me no choice. I can feel it spreading further with each passing moment, silver fire eating away at what's left of my humanity.
"Nesilhan," I say quietly, offering her my hand. "Are you certain about this?"
She looks at me—really looks at me—and I see the moment she makes her choice. Not just to save me, but to trust me. To believe that whatever happens next, we'll face it together.
"I'm certain," she says firmly, her fingers intertwining with mine. "Let's go remind the universe that love is stronger than poison."
We walk toward the ceremonial circle together, hand in hand, while shadows gather around us and the very air hums with anticipation. Behind us, I can hear Banu making increasingly creative threats about what she'll do if anyone tries to serve her substandard refreshments during the ceremony.
Despite everything—the poison, the trap, the certain knowledge that my father is planning something far more elaborate than a simple purification ritual—I find myself smiling.
At least if we're walking into damnation, we're doing it with style.
And excellent comedic timing.
33
