“Mmm.” Crow rubbed his chin. “It will do, Alister. There is just one thing that I would have added.” He conjured the Crimson Crown between his hands and held it out. “This would have added a certain something.”

Han shook his head. “I told you. I don’t want to be king. I didn’t even want to be the official consort, but if I marry the queen, it comes with. Love and politics shouldn’t go together.”

Crow rolled his eyes, but the crown disappeared. “We Waterlows have always made fools of ourselves over women. Unfortunately, it seems to be a dominant trait.” He paused. “There was no bloodshed at this wedding? No Demonai ambush? No Bayar treachery?”

Han shook his head. “It may still come, but no.”

And if it does come, it is still worth it. Memory washed over Han, of long hours spent in Raisa’s high bed, their limbs entangled. And then in his bed. And then in the rooftop garden.

There are a lot of rooms in that palace, Han thought. And Seven Realms to boot.

Wrenching himself back to the present, he saw that Crow, too, was distracted; his gaze far away. Han guessed perhaps he was recalling his own wedding, a thousand years ago, that had precipitated so many disasters.

“If you’re done criticizing my clothes, Dancer and I planned a surprise for you,” Han said. “We don’t know if it will work, if we can pull it off, but…we thought we’d try.”

Crow looked puzzled. “What?”

“Do you remember when I brought Lucius to Aediion with me?” Han said. “We’re going to try something similar.”

“No, no, don’t tell me,” Crow said sarcastically. “You’re going to reenact the wedding in Aediion.”

Han shook his head. “No, actually we—”

Just then, the air began to ripple and dance. Two shapes became visible, solidifying, and becoming clearer. It was Fire Dancer and a gray wolf with clear gray eyes.

Crow cocked his head, staring. “What is this, Alister? What do you…?”

His voice trailed away as the wolf blurred and shimmered, extending vertically, changing before their eyes. Until finally a graceful young woman stood before them, dressed in trousers and a leather waistcoat of an old-fashioned style, her pale hair caught into a long braid. She wore a gold ring on her finger, familiar to Han. It was the one Raisa wore—with the circling wolves.

Han watched the woman for signs of sentience. It was one thing to conjure up an image in Aediion, but transporting an animating spirit that was not a wizard was something else.

Crow stared at the woman, too, his mouth literally hanging open. He swallowed hard. “Alister. Is this…is this some kind of cruel joke?”