“I love you too, sweetheart,” Lucivar said in a very nasty tone of voice.

“How could you be so stupid?” she yelled. “How could you go off and fight jhinkas by yourself? I don’t want to be a widow before I have a chance to be a wife.”

“You don’t want to be a wife, remember?” Lucivar snapped. “You made that quite clear this morning.”

“I was confused. My head was feeling all cobwebby, and I couldn’t think.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Jaenelle and Saetan snap to attention and study her with narrowed eyes. “And before I could think straight, you were gone. How am I supposed to marry you if you go off and get yourself killed dead?”

“Dead is usually what happens when a person gets killed.” Lucivar took a step toward her. “And what do you care anyway? You don’t want to marry me.”

“I do want to marry you!” She stamped her foot in frustration. “If there was a Priestess standing here, I’d marry you right this minute!”

“She offered to marry him,” Merry said.

“In front of witnesses,” Jaenelle added.

Lucivar pointed a finger at Marian and snarled, “I accept.”

“And he accepted,” Merry said gleefully.

“In front of witnesses,” Jaenelle added. “How soon can the Priestess get here?”

A brief pause. “She says half an hour,” Merry replied. “She needs to wash up a bit and change her clothes, then hitch up her pony cart.”

“My cart’s already hitched,” a man called out. “I’ll go and fetch her. That’ll save some time.”

Marian stared at Lucivar. Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful. What had she just done? “I should—I—”

Jaenelle grabbed one arm, and Merry grabbed the other.

“No time for that,” Jaenelle said as they dragged Marian through the tavern to the back room.

“You can clean up in our place,” Merry said, tugging Marian up the stairs to the suite of rooms she and Briggs called home. “No need to go back to the eyrie.”

“But—” Marian stammered.

“I’ll dash up to the eyrie,” Jaenelle said. “That green dress will look lovely as a wedding dress. And I’ll bring the amber necklace Lucivar gave you at Winsol.”

“We’ll have to see what we can do for a wedding supper,” Merry said to Jaenelle. “And I’ll have Briggs nip over to the baker’s to see if there’s a cake left.”

“I made lots of food today,” Marian mumbled.

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” Jaenelle said cheerfully. “I’ll bring that, too.”

“But—”

A hand pressed against her cheek. She looked into Jaenelle’s sapphire eyes. Dark, soft power rose up beneath her, flowed through her, washing away the last of that cobwebby feeling—and the doubts along with it.

“Do you love him?” Jaenelle asked.

She offered the Queen of Ebon Askavi the truth. “With everything I am.”