Chapter 11

Islept. That was a weird side effect of whatever Iggy did. I sort of liked it, but it was obviously bothering Eli.

"Are you injured, Geneviève?" He was propped on one arm staring down at me. He touched my forehead carefully, and then took my pulse. It was sweet, if not for the reason. I'd bled all over him, been injected with venom, stabbed, shot, and magically depleted. I was, in sum, accident-prone.

"I think so." I didn't feel unwell. "Sleepier than normal, but I feel okay other than that. Honestly, my magic feels . . . obedient. It's not overwhelming or humming or anything. Maybe I just finally settled into my bones."

Eli didn't look convinced, but he took my hands and asked, "Shall we stand before the world and proclaim our love?"

I pulled him down and kissed him before slipping by him with a laugh and flowing to the main room. Out there, Mama Lauren was waiting with veritable baskets of flowers and hair pins.

I dutifully sat on an ottoman while she started twining blossoms into my hair.

Eli fixed coffee, glorious man that he was, for all of us, and said nothing as my mother fussed and jabbed and twisted my hair into something fitting for the future queen of Elphame.

"Boss?" Allie came in with a glass bowl of what appeared to be gemstones. "I have a gift from Lady B."

My mother looked at the cut-glass bowl. "I told her it was too much."

"What?" I looked closer, feeling the magic in the stones calling me. Carefully, I reached out a finger and felt the impossible flutter of ethereal wings.

Looking past the magic I could see gleaming emeralds of a Birdwing, rich sapphire of a Blue Morpho, translucent near-opal Amber Phantom, the ruby Red Lacewing, deep amethyst of the Purple Emperor. They were temporary, neither real nor living, but to create such an illusion was a degree of magical mastery that left me speechless.

The faux jewels were in a net that draped over my hair. The effect of flowers and gems on my already sapphire-hued hair was stunning.

"Time to go, Eli," Jesse called from the doorway. He walked inside and came to a dead stop when he saw me. "You're not as funny looking as you were when we were kids, Gen."

I flipped him off. Then I said, "You're shirking on your man of honor duties."

"What? I thought you said that over here—"

I snorted in laughter at his panic, even though Mama Lauren swatted me. "Geneviève. Behave. Both of you."

My childhood bestie and surrogate brother said, "Yes, Mama Lauren."

"Sorry," I said unapologetically. "But you should see your face."

"Wench." He rolled his eyes and turned to Eli. "Come on, man. Your bride is a vicious thing. You sure you want to do this? We could hit the beach and—"

"I have no doubts," Eli said loudly and clearly. "Eternity will not be enough to make me tire of Geneviève."

"Your life, man. She snores. Cuts her toenail in the kitch—"

"Liar," I said. "That's you."

Jesse walked over and stared down at me. "You're gorgeous, Gen. Strong. Kind. Fearless. He's a lucky man, and I'm proud to call him family."

Mama Lauren sniffled.

"No tears!" Jesse and I said in unison.

She gave us a watery smile, pulled me to my feet, and hugged us both. "My babies."

And Jesse and I both did that awkward man-pat on her shoulders. Weepy women were dangerous, especially mothers.

"Right, well, I'll be taking the groom." Jesse backed away quickly. "See you at the . . . wedding."

Once the two men were gone. Allie looked at us and said, "I'll go check on the other bridesmaids."

And then I was alone with my mother, who was still giving me a weepy smile.

"Let me get the dress," I offered and all but ran to the bedroom where the simple unbleached cotton and lace dress was. I'd seen the confectionary-looking dresses online and in stores, as well as in illustrations sent from Elphame. They were lovely, but they weren't me. So I'd chosen what looked like a long dress with a slit in case I had to run.

No, really. I understand people thinking I'm paranoid, but I was just kidnapped and held in a pirate's lair. These things happened.

So slit, simple, and natural.

Over that was a lace layer that went on a bit like a duster or a cardigan. It added the delicate layer that everyone else seemed to want, and I will admit it made me feel feminine. The hex-woven belt, shot with spun gold, was the only truly extravagant item, but it was commissioned by Eli. He brought me the materials and asked me to create a wedding sash.

He wore a matching one.

I walked toward my mother with the belt in hand. "Will you?"

Silently, aside from stray sniffles, she wrapped it around my natural waist and tied it so that it hung down. It would sway as I walked, but that was fine.

The last touch was the butterfly veil that draped over my hair. My face was uncovered, but the net of gemstones on my hair added a weight to my step. This was it. My wedding. A flicker of panic rose in my throat.

"You love him." My mother kissed my cheek. "And he loves you."

I nodded. We were already bound unto death, but it felt somber to proclaim my tender feelings in front of the whole of Elphame. These were mine, and I hating feeling exposed.

We walked toward a field where it felt like the world had gathered. Thousands of faeries gathered. A path of blossoms led me toward Eli, where he stood waiting. My mother walked me to him.

"I give you my child unto your safe-keeping." She took his hand in hers, and then she took mine in her other hand. She pulled them together, so our hands were clasped.

Then Mama Lauren stepped back. Loud enough for all to hear, she pronounced, "There are two paths. One together. One apart."

My bridesmaids and Man of Honor all stood. In this ceremony, they were my witnesses. It was a fae thing.

"Before these witnesses of your life and past, I urge you to choose."

King Marcus and assorted fae stood.

Marcus walked to a central bower of closed flower buds. "Do you bring me a queen of our people, Eli of Stonecroft?"

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then Eli looked at me. "I offer you my throne, my homes, my last drop of blood, my final gasp of air."

I swallowed.

"Will you join me, Geneviève of Crowe?" He stared into my eyes as if there was any chance that he'd find doubt.

There wasn't.

"I go where you go," I said. "Your people are mine. Your ancestors are mine. All I have to offer in return are my last drop of blood, my last breath of life, and . . . both my grave magic and my blades, for you already have my heart, my body, and my soul."

No one remarked on the modification of our vows, but I was a witch. I would add those aspects to my vows.

Eli smiled. "I will walk whichever path you allow."

I looked at the two paths—away from or toward the king—and then I grabbed Eli's hand and ran toward the king. Hand-in-hand, we flowed. It was not a trait I would share so openly in the world of my birth, but here I was willing to show them what I was. If I was going to do this, accept the responsibility of a throne, I was going to be clear on what they were getting as a queen.

Marcus didn't quite muffle his muttered expletive, but Eli looked joyous.

"I was in a hurry," I said loudly.

Laughter fluttered around us, and my groom joined in.

"Are there any objections?" I asked the assembled crowd. "Not to marrying Eli. That is done. But to me being here as your queen-in-waiting alongside him?"

No one objected. Instead, as one, they curtsied or bowed. And I felt a wave of acceptance that was foreign in my life.

"No delicate maiden," Marcus said. "A warrior queen fit for your warrior king."

The butterflies-made-jewels took flight and dispersed.

Still with our hands intertwined, we both knelt—although protocol was such that only Eli was to kneel. I was merely to bow my head.

Then the King of Elphame placed crowns gently on both of our heads. "I give you Eli and Geneviève of Crowe and Stonecroft, my heirs."