“What about Ravenna?” Sarani asked, her beautiful face filled with worry.

“What about her? She’s thrilled beyond belief.”

Sarani shook her head. “No, I meant, her marriage prospects.”

“If any suitor thinks she’s not worthy of an offer of marriage because of my wife’s heritage, then he can go sod himself with a pointy stick.”

“Your Grace!”

He shrugged. It was true. If a bigot like that refused his sister, then she was better off without him. He’d prefer Ravenna marry a poor man who loved her for her than a wealthy, titled fop with hate in his heart and ignorance in his brain. If he could get the headstrong chit to marry at all, that was.

He sucked in a shallow breath, his voice lowering. “So what do you say, my love? Shall we jump on this ship and sail it to parts unknown?”

Sarani gazed at him, cheeks damp with tears. Were they happy ones? The love of his life dropped to her knees with him, cupped his face in her palms, and kissed him. People gasped, and his sister might have given a scream of joy, but Rhystan did not pay it any mind. The only thing that consumed him was Sarani. When she broke away, he suddenly felt uncertain.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

Her gaze searched his, for forever it seemed, but he waited because in the end, it was her choice. He’d chosen her, but she also had to choose him.

“I realized something important a while ago,” she told him. “You see, I was so worried about losing my heart to you, but the truth was, I couldn’t lose it. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve had it in your keeping all along.” She stared at him with aching sweetness, her fingers cradling his jaw. “Five years ago, I gave it to you gladly. My heart is yours. I’ve always been yours. So yes, duke of mine, I’ll marry you.”

The ballroom erupted in cheers, and Rhystan lifted his future bride into his arms with a ragged laugh and inhaled her sweet scent. “Minx. I thought you were going to say no for a moment there.”

“How could a girl resist a proposal from the man of her dreams who quotes Rumi?”

He gathered her close, loving the feel of her in his arms, right where she belonged. “Because he’s a gorgeous, manly, virile, rich duke?”

Sarani rolled her eyes. “One day, your head will pop and it will be your own fault. For your information, it’s in spite of the dukedom.” She put a tender palm over his heart. “I fell in love with the man underneath it all.”