“And if … what we have to do tomorrow,” he said. “If we weren’t doing it. If tonight was just a night like any other. Would you still want this?”

It was painful to consider a world in which they could have years—decades—together. A future in which tonight was the first night of many and not the last.

Anton took his hand. “If you’re asking me if I only want to do this out of guilt or some stupid attempt to comfort you or—or because I’m scared I’ll never have it otherwise, the answer is no. I want to do this because I love you. I want you with me, now and always, and if I cannot have always then I will take now.”

Jude stopped breathing. There was nothing on earth that he wanted more than to kiss Anton. A heartbeat later he realized there was no reason not to. He surged toward him, cradling him close, kissing him almost frantically.

When he broke away, he could hear both of them breathing in the silence of the pavilion.

“Is that—yes?” Anton asked after a moment.

“Yes,” Jude said, punctuating it with another kiss. “Yes.”

They knelt on the rug, side by side. Anton took the burning candle, Jude the other. Anton offered the flame, and after a moment Jude let it light his wick.

“I don’t actually know what we’re supposed to do,” Jude confessed. It wasn’t as if there’d been any marriage ceremonies in Kerameikos to observe. He’d only heard about them secondhand from other Paladin who hadn’t grown up there, and those conversations had been brief, Jude too ashamed of his own curiosity to dig any deeper.

Anton smiled. “We’ll just have to make it up, then.”

He took the laurel crown and laid it on Jude’s head. Jude crowned Anton with the other and let his hands trail down his neck to his shoulders, resting them gently there.

Anton reached for the goblet of wine next, taking a long sip, dark eyes peering at Jude over the rim. He then offered the wine to Jude, who cupped his hands around Anton’s and lifted the goblet to his lips. When Anton placed the goblet back on the table, his eyes looked darker, his gaze piercing.

A new intensity built between them. Anton’s hands shook as he dipped his fingers into the silver bowl and brushed the perfumed oil across Jude’s brow before touching his own forehead.

“If I could give you forever,” Jude whispered, “I would.”

Anton kissed his palm. “You are. You will. This is forever, Jude. Right here. Tonight.”