Chapter 50
IT WAS A QUIET—for the moment—assembly in the gathering room. For a place usually the sight of planning for battles, or for fight-weary Sentinels to rest and recharge, the room looked almost festive. Garlands of mistflowers draped the walls, candles cast a golden glow, and the fire on the hearth warmed the room. Even the Sentinels looked different; all had cleaned up as best they could, donned their most presentable clothes, and stood now eagerly awaiting something they had not seen in too long—a genuine, honest day of celebration.
Kye took Brander’s offered arm, touched despite herself at how much care he’d taken, his jaw clean-shaven, his usually somewhat wild hair neatly combed, and his black coat looked both formal and new, as if he’d had it stored away.
Her own dress was something she had never expected. She had thought she would become pledged to Drake wearing the plain ceremonial robe that was the best she had, which was not saying much. But last night, his mother had knocked on the door to his quarters, which Drake had turned over to her for this night. While, she suspected, the Sentinels did their best to get him drunk on this, his last night of being unattached.
Iolana Davorin had brought an offering, and one Kye found hard to refuse, one of her own gleaming white robes.
“I would offer it merely because you are pledging to my son,” she had said. “But please know it is out of respect as well. I have learned of the woman you have become. You are not only that artist of no small talent I remember, but a brave, bold woman and fighter, and a perfect match for him. You hold his heart, and I know you will see to it well. And I will wait as long as it takes for you to, not forgive me, but accept me as one who loves him, too.”
Kye had bitten back the comment that rose to her lips, that abandoning him and her other children was hardly an act of love, because she was beginning to see it had been just that. But an act of love for this place, this mist-shrouded planet they all cherished. She had seen with clarity that her son was the only one who could save it, and so she had offered him up, and done what was necessary for him to learn what he had to learn. Kye understood, but she still couldn’t quite give it her blessing.
But she could accept this offering. As a first step.
And then Eirlys had joined them to fuss with the robe, and, to her surprise, said Mara Clawson and Tuari and others were all bustling about in the gathering room, preparing. When Eirlys was done, Kye found herself looking in the polished metal that served as a mirror at a woman in a gleaming white dress, tucked in at the waist and flowing out gracefully behind, and with a garland of white mistflowers around a loose knot of long, dark hair that looked as if one good tug would send it cascading down.
She would not shame him, she thought as they stepped into the gathering room.
Eirlys left to stand with her brother while Iolana had made her way to the front of the room to stand before the mantel of the hearth, the most imposing structure in the room. She would, as the wife of an elder of Ziem, perform the pledging.
“Of all the things I regretted as I slipped so close to death, the biggest was that we had not pledged. I would have you own my name and my soul formally, before everyone, as you already do between us.”
She had not hesitated for an instant at Drake’s heartfelt proposal. She had realized, with a pang, that he was also assuring she would not be alone should he truly die, that she would have his family as her own. But she remembered her own wish, as he lay dying, that they had not let the war stop them, and she understood.
To her surprise, she heard music, a quiet, gentle tune from past days, played with some skill on a lap harp. When she saw it was gruff old Pryl at the strings, she felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. She smiled at the man, and saw his own eyes look suspiciously moist as he smiled back. The music changed, his fingers picked up the pace, and a joyous fanfare blossomed from the strings.
And then she saw Drake and her breath left her in a rush. He was dressed in full black—his father’s pledging clothes, Iolana had said, her eyes moistening when she’d recognized them and realized he’d kept them all this time—but for a slash of white mistflower on his shoulder. Tall, strong, his eyes bright and clear, his dark hair brushed back from that face so beloved with or without scars.
A face no longer masked. It bore scars in actuality now, but thanks to the skill of his mother, they were already fading. But it was the first time he had ever appeared before them all without the Raider’s disguise, confirming what Brander had told them. She also knew that this meant his life in Zelos as he’d known it was over. As did he. But he had told her he did not mourn this, not with her beside him.
“Where I will ever be,” she had whispered back, vowing to treasure him even more after nearly losing him forever.
Brander bowed as they reached him, handing her off to his brother in all but blood. And Kye’s sister also in all but blood, but soon also by law, did the same for Drake by lifting his hand and placing it over Kye’s in the traditional way.
Iolana began, reciting the pledging ceremony that had been banned on Ziem since the arrival of the Coalition. This simple act, once so common, so affirming, was now an act of defiance, and everyone there knew it. It added another layer to the already joyous occasion, and when the final words were spoken, when she and Drake were bound together for eternity, she felt nothing short of triumph. And in his eyes she read the same emotion; they had not just pledged to each other today, they had pledged to their world.
“You have sealed what was a given, you were made for each other,” Iolana whispered to them. “Ziem has their first family once more.”
And that night, there was no sneaking back to the alcove, no hiding, no worrying who might overhear. For instead, they had another gift from his mother, one glorious night alone, with no one to interrupt, in a surprising cave warmed by the mountain itself, and planned for their every comfort.
“Revel,” she had said with a wink. “Time enough to worry about what’s coming. For tonight, just be with each other.” And then, after a moment, she looked at her son pointedly and added, “And work on that wish of mine.”
It was much later, when they had sated the first driving need, made even more powerful by how close they had come to losing it, when she finally asked. “What wish of hers?”
Drake, to her amazement, flushed. Lowered his eyes. “Something she wants, when Ziem is free and safe to explore once again.”
Kye didn’t dwell on what that was going to take, she wanting nothing to mar this night. “What is it she wants?”
His mouth quirked as he at last met her gaze. “A grandchild to explore it with.”
A sudden burst of emotions flooded Kye, things she had never felt, had never dared let run. A child. Her child. Drake’s child. It was insane to even think of and yet . . . when Ziem is free and safe to explore once again.
“We should work on that,” she said, knowing he would see her acceptance of his mother’s wish for what it was, acceptance of everything. They would be a family, that first family of free Ziem.
“With pleasure, my mate,” he whispered. And set about the task.