“And you, Raisa ana’Marianna?” Speaker Jemson said. “What brings you to temple?”

“I come to be joined to Han Alister as wife and queen,” Raisa said. “To be joined before the Maker and our friends in the spirit—and the flesh.” Pink crept into her cheeks as she said this.

“And you both do this of your own free will?” Jemson asked, looking at each of them in turn.

“Oh, yes!” they said together, sending a titter of amusement around the chapel.

“Then let’s talk about what this means,” Jemson said, and continued to lead them through the marriage service—through the oaths and affirmations and questions and answers that constituted a marriage in the Old Church.

Han managed to hit his cues even while distracted by a tumult of thoughts. He wished Mam and Mari could be here. Mari, especially, would love the candles and witchlights, the romance and ceremony of it. Not to mention the sweetcakes at the reception after.

And Lucius—Lucius had been the source of considerable pain, and yet he’d finally told Han the truth when nobody else would.

Han saw movement in the shrubbery, and Dog emerged, his tail waving like a flag. He’d come to the wedding, then, despite Magret’s attempts to lock him up. So Lucius was represented.

And Crow. He’d been the author of so much that had happened—he’d paid such a high price for love—it seemed he should be here for the redux.

Han looked past the altar and saw gray wolves sitting in a circle, their tails wrapped around their feet, and that gave him the seed of an idea.

Han felt the vibration of foot-stamping and applause, and looked up to find everyone waiting for that first kiss. He swept Raisa up into his arms and kissed her like it was his first, last, and only.

But, as it turned out, they were just getting started.

E P I L O G U E

“Is that what you wore?” Crow said. He tried for a frown but couldn’t quite bring it off. “Turn around.”

Han obediently turned in a circle, extending his arms to show off his garb. “I think this is pretty close,” Han said, of his conjured clothes. “Based on memory.”

“Isn’t it rather subdued for a wedding?” Crow said, drawing his brows together.

“It didn’t seem right to do something splashy when we’re still at war with Arden, and so many have died, and others are struggling to survive.” Han pointed to the garden chapel, which he had conjured up as their meeting place in Aediion. “We had the ceremony right here. Where you and Hana used to meet. This is how it looked.”

Crow surveyed the garden, taking in the chrysanthemums and asters, calla lilies and dragonflowers, frost-touched hydrangeas. The chapel roof was twined with flowering vines.