Page 127 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
Nes balked. “Mama!”
“It’s true.”
Ehmet chuckled morosely. “It wasn’t my mum posthumously. I wish Hothan wasn’t gone, so we could get to know one another again and...”
“Bond?” Mamasuggested.
The king nodded his big head.
“Ah, well. That’s the way life is, unfortunately. But you did bond with him, both of you, in the same way. Have you worked your magic together yet?”
Nes flicked her gaze to Ehmet. “No.”
“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the empty lawn. “There has to be something we can both imagine at the same time.”
“Did we have the same final examination?”
“A miniature harpsichord?” he checked.
She nodded, beaming.
Ehmet held out a palm as a stage, and upon it, they wove a glossy instrument with no legs and a missing lid. It played a twinkly, discordant tune.
“Needs work,” Mama commented.
“It’s quite good, honestly,” Nesrina said to Ehmet. It wasn’t easy, weaving with a partner. She was even more impressed by the twins’ accidental dragon.
“For a first try, I agree, quite good.”
They decided to try again later, and let their creation fizzle away.
“Aren’t you supposed to get married, love? Come on kids, let’s go.” Grabbing Nes by the hand, her mama turned and walkedherinto Stormhill, as if she were the guest, not about to become the bloody duchess in an hour’s time.
Chortling, Ehmet followed behind.
Underthebrightmiddaysun, protected by a canopy of leaves woven by Hevva, Nesrina walked down the aisle with Ehmet by her side. On her left, Thera and Aylin clutched each other’s hands, beaming at Nes, and crying. The twins stood with her mother, up near the front. Hevva was acting as the officiant, and Kas waited for Nesrina at theentrance to the temple—which she’d agreed to call that, on the condition he keep worshiping her there.
Kas grinned, his tiny mouth pulled wide, and his hair in wild disarray from his nervous hands that currently clutched his jacket to stay still. She smiled back, unable to stop tears from fogging her vision, adding a mystical quality to the afternoon.
“Congratulations, little sis,” Ehmet whispered, passing Nes off to Kas at the altar, and going to join his children. The tradition was an old one, still practiced by many, in which the father of the bride handed her off to her new spouse. Selwassans no longer believed women were possessions of men, but most kept up with the wedding practice. It was sweet, when it came down to it.
Since Hothan couldn’t be there, for obvious reasons, Ehmet had offered to escort her, and Nes agreed. To anyone observing, except those in the know, it appeared as though the king was taking his duty to his people seriously by standing in for the deceased relative of a Selwassan subject. Hevva, Ehmet, Kas, Nesrina, and her happy-faced but weepy-eyed mama were the ones with all the facts. Well, Nekash, too, but he was imprisoned beneath the stone floors of Kirce.
Ehmet and Hevva wanted to wait a few years to inform the twins that Nesrina was their aunt in more ways than one. Everyone was happy with the current arrangement which brought her into their family, and allowed the twins to call her aunt, regardless of which branch she swung in on.
“Eth ye de mi, m’ekina,” Kas whispered, taking her hands and drawing her attention from the gathered crowd to him.
“Mi tilal,I love you,” she replied, standing on tiptoes as he bent to kiss her.
“You’re not supposed to do that yet!” Della yelled.
“Are you ready to begin?” Hevva laughed.
“Yes,” they replied together.
Their intimate handfasting was followed by a much larger celebration in the village of Stormhill. Kas drove their curricle through town one-handed, while she waved at the villagers for both of them, and their hands, bound in green ribbon, lay entwined atop her thigh. It was clearKas was well-loved by his people—theirpeople—and they were more than happy to open their hearts to her, too.
They climbed down to wander the streets, bound together, physically, for the duration of the night, and bound together, emotionally, forever.
