He didn’t think about it. He simply stepped back and shifted until he stood on her left, the subordinate position. Her startled expression told him she didn’t know what to think about that move, since he now outranked her and was entitled to stand on the right. But his choice had nothing to do with the Jewels she now wore and everything to do with who, and what, she still was. Her place wasn’t at his side; his place was at her side. And always would be.

Before her uncertainty could be sensed by the unicorns around them, Mistral reared. Then, looking at Daemon, he flicked his tail and snorted before moving to one side.

Jaenelle pressed her lips together.

*You’d have no use for me if I was hung like that,* Daemon told her on a psychic thread.

She changed her muffled laugh into a series of coughs, causing Ladvarian to declare it was still too cold for the Lady to be outside much longer.

So Moonshadow tossed her head, the sun gleaming on her spiral horn, and all the unicorns pricked their ears as the Priestess took her place in front of the two humans.

*Jaenelle,* the Priestess said, *this human stallion stands before you, wanting to be your mate. Will you accept him?*

“I will accept him,” Jaenelle said. She called in the gold band Banard had made. Even though he’d given it to her for this ceremony, Daemon stared at it as if he’d never seen it before.

His left hand trembled when she slipped the ring on his finger, adding, “I offer this token to let everyone know Daemon is now my mate.”

*Daemon,* the Priestess said, *the Lady is willing to have you as her mate. Do you promise to be her friend and . . .* She looked at Ladvarian, who, Daemon guessed, was helping the mare with human concepts. *. . . lover? Do you promise to protect her from enemies?*

“I promise,” Daemon replied. He called in the sapphire ring and slipped it on Jaenelle’s finger. “Let this token be a symbol of my commitment to honor, cherish, and protect, to be friend, lover, and husband.” He lifted her left hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “This I promise . . . with everything I am.”

When he drew her into his arms and kissed her, he forgot about standing in a meadow, forgot about who was watching, forgot everything but her . . .

... until a young voice close to his hip said, *Are they going to mate now?*

Since his libido was rising a little too eagerly, he started to step back—and got stabbed in the ass by a little unicorn’s horn.

“It could have been worse,” Jaenelle said as he led her back to the Coach and the picnic Ladvarian had procured from somewhere.

“How?” Daemon said, grateful he was just bruised, not punctured.

“You could have been facing the other way.”