After that summer, Kyr had locked up emotionally, and had never been the same. For the longest time Darling had felt sorry for him.

Until that one moment that was forever etched into his memory.

Even now, he could see Maris walking barely a step in front of him, toward the altar where Tamara was waiting for the ceremony to begin.

But the moment her gaze had met Maris’s, fear had etched itself onto her face.

The old priest had breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Ah, there you are, Maris. We’d begun to—”

“Forgive me, Holiness. But there’s something I need to say.” Stopping just in front of the priest, Maris had looked to Darling for support.

Dressed in his Phrixian uniform, Maris had been the epitome of a fierce regal war hero. Except for the perspiration on his brow and upper lip—perspiration that worsened as he turned toward Tams. She’d been exquisite in her blue and gold gown that flowed around her lush and abundant curves. Darling could tell by her expression that she knew what was coming.

And why.

She’d reached out to touch Maris’s arm, and offered him a kind smile. “It’s okay, sweetie.” Biting her lip, she’d glanced to Darling, then back at Maris before she’d whispered to them. “I’ve had a feeling for quite some time that you two were more than friends.”

Maris had taken her hand into his and kissed it. “I do love you, Tams. I’m just not in love with you. I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes had glowed with her love and respect for him. “Don’t apologize, Maris. Not for this. And not for being you. I’m only grateful you’re doing this now instead of later when it would have been too late to undo it.” She swept her gaze to her parents who were scowling a hole through all three of them. “My father might kill you over it, but I for one can’t thank you enough for not tying me into a marriage where I could never have the one thing I want most.”

Children.

Unlike him and Maris, she wanted a house full of them.

When they had turned around toward the crowd, Maris’s father had shot to his feet. “What’s going on here?” he growled. “Why aren’t you facing the priest? Maris, explain this!”

“We’re not getting married, Father. Sorry.”

That hadn’t gone over well with his father. “What do you mean, you’re not getting married? You’ve made a commitment. Now be a man and honor it.”

A tic had started in Mari’s jaw. “I am honoring my word, Father. I promised Tamara a long time ago that I would never do anything to bring hurt to her heart. It’s why I can’t marry her.”

Her parents had started shouting then that there was nothing wrong with their daughter, and the crowd had gone crazy with accusations against both bride and groom, as well as their families.

His father’s face had turned bright red from rage. “Boy, you better turn around right now and—”