When Keelynn finally reached me, I couldn’t catch my breath. The snow-white blooms in her bouquet of hydrangeas trembled as she handed the flowers to her sister before placing her hands in mine.
Rían performed the ceremony—our third marriage to one another.
Time and again, this woman had chosen me, despite all my faults and failures. Once again, she had forgiven me my transgressions. For however long we had, we would remain at each other’s sides.
“Prince Tadhg O’Clereigh of Tearmann, do you take this woman to be your wife, to hold and to cherish in this life and beyond?”
“I do.”
Rían withdrew his dagger; the shiny blade reflected Keelynn’s wide eyes.
“The prince has requested a blood oath,” my brother explained. “If there are any objections, make them known now.”
Keelynn’s brow furrowed as she searched my face for answers.
“Our bond will remain for eternity,” I whispered to her. “Nothing, not even death, will separate us. But if you’d prefer a simple handfasting instead—” Not many Danú ceremonies included a blood oath nowadays, for obvious reasons.
She didn’t even blink as she held out her hand. Rían cut our palms and bound our hands with ribbons of gold and green. Blood dripped between us, magic from my palm finding its way to hers, healing both our wounds.
When the ceremony finished, everyone present laughed and cheered. Even Hagan let out a high-pitched shriek from where he bounced on Eava’s hip.
“Is it everything you’d dreamed it would be?” I asked my bride.
Keelynn shook her head. “It’s so much better because it’s with you.” Her gaze flicked toward our guests. “And because it’s with them.”
She was right. Who needed the support of a nation when you could have the support of the best people you knew?
35
RÍAN
Hagan smileda dreamy smile that usually preceded a terrible smell. Hopefully his shite remained inside the nappy instead of on my waistcoat like last time. Good thing I’d bought two for myself. When I looked up from the chair, I found Aveen staring at me, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, as if I’d just decapitated her best friend.
With such a small crowd present, she’d been able to drop her glamour. The sight of that silk gown hugging her curves made my heart slam against my ribs.
I shifted on the seat, my blood warming beneath the weight of her gaze. “What’s wrong? Is my hair sticking up?” I’d told Eava the top was too long to lay right—not that the old bag of bones had listened. I smoothed a hand over my head just in case.
Aveen blinked and blinked, her brow slowly furrowing as her gaze dropped to the dozy bundle in my arms. “I distinctly remember you saying that you hated children.”
“I do.” Children were smelly and loud and asked the most irritating questions. The younger they were, the more obnoxious I found them. Unruly little waifs, always covered in something sticky and brown.
Aveen pointed at Hagan snuggled in my arms. “That’s a child.”
“This is not a child. This is my nephew.” And as far as babies went, he was probably the most perfect one to ever exist. As if he knew I was speaking about him, he grinned, drool clinging precariously to his chubby chin. Definitely a shite coming.
The wooden chair to my right creaked as Aveen sank next to me and brushed a finger over Hagan’s dimpled fist. He smiled at her too, which made me like him even more. My nephew had impeccable taste.
“And if you had a son?” Aveen asked, glancing up at me from beneath the curtain of her lashes.
If I had a child, presumably it would be with her. And since I loved her and loved myself, surely that meant I would care for any offspring we had as well. “I suppose I wouldn’t throw myself from a cliff.”
Aveen’s mouth fell open. “You want children.”
“I never said that.” Having one and not loathing it was a far cry from wanting one. And there was the tiny issue of my mother to consider.
“May as well have.”
“Now who’s being ridiculous?”