Chapter 31: Happier than Ever
The drumbeat had slowed to something sinuous and low, and Violet's bare feet ached in a way that felt like triumph. She had danced through the rain and the renewal of the eclipse, spun by wolves who howled as they turned her, caught by fae hands that lifted her briefly off the ground in spirals of laughter. The white dress was stained at the hem with crushed grass and wet earth, and the lavender sash had long since disappeared into the crowd.
Mira appeared at her elbow, a cup of something golden in each hand. "You're glowing," she said, pressing one cup into Violet's palm. "It's nauseating."
Violet drank. Honey and something woodsy, warm as sunlight. "I feel like I could float."
"You look like you could float. Which is why I'm telling you to eat. You'll be no good to those kings of yours if you collapse into a pile of wedding confetti."
The mention of them made Violet's heart stutter. She rose onto her toes, scanning the crowd. Torchlight danced across faces, caught on furs and silk, glittered in the eyes of laughing wolves. She had let go of their hands an hour ago, swept apart by the tides of celebration, and the bond had kept them close enough that she never felt alone.
But she wanted to see them.
"There they are." Mira's voice was softer than usual, and Violet followed her gaze.
Cassian and Evander stood near the great oak, just beyond the edge of the dance circle. The eclipse light fell on them like a blessing, silver and pale. Cassian's gold tunic was untucked and rumpled, his dark hair ruffled as if a hundred hands had passed through it. He was laughing, head tilted back, and the sound of it carried even over the drumbeat.
Evander was not laughing. He was watching Cassian laugh, his blue eyes unguarded, warm in a way that Violet had only ever seen reserved for her.
Then Cassian stopped laughing. He said something, low, and Evander answered. Violet could not hear the words, but she saw the shift in her husband's posture, the way his stern expression softened into something younger.
They moved at the same moment.
Cassian's hand came up to grip Evander's collar. Evander's arm slid around Cassian's waist, pulling him close. When their mouths met, it was not a chaste kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made surrounding dancers look away and lean in at the same time, the kind of kiss that said more than any words could.
Violet's breath caught.
She had seen them share touches, brush shoulders, exchange quiet glances. But this. This was the intimacy of two people who knew each other's bodies like maps they had drawn themselves. Cassian's free hand found the back of Evander's neck, fingers threading into his dark hair. Evander's other hand pressed low on Cassian's hip, possessive.
They broke apart just enough to breathe, foreheads touching.
"You say that every time," Evander said, and his voice was rough with affection.
"Because it's true every time." Cassian grinned, that roguish grin Violet knew by heart. "If the moon could see me, it would be jealous."
"The moon has seen you quite enough."
"It hasn't seen me like that."
Evander snorted. The sound was ugly and real and so full of fond exasperation that Violet felt her chest ache. "You are impossible."
"You married me."
"Twice over, apparently."
When they kissed again, it was slower, deeper, a conversation in its own language. Cassian's hand slid from Evander's collar to his jaw, cupping it with a tenderness that made Violet's eyes sting. Evander's arm tightened, drawing Cassian flush against him, and for a moment they were not two kings carrying a century of distance between them. They were simply two men who loved each other, standing beneath an eclipsed moon, relearning what they had almost forgotten.
Violet knew she should look away. This was private, theirs.
She could not look away.
"They're beautiful," she breathed.
Mira was watching too, her expression complicated. "They're idiots," she said, but her voice was gentle. "Hundred years they had, and they wasted it sleeping in separate beds. Meanwhile my wife proposed nineteen times in one year."
"Twenty," a voice said.
Aneara glided up beside them, a glass of pale wine in her hand, her luminous gaze fixed on the two kings. "Twenty proposals. Though the last one was more of a demand."
"Which one was that?"
"The one where I told her she was going to marry me and I was tired of asking nicely." Aneara's lips curved. "She said yes with her mouth full of bread."
"I was hungry!" Mira protested.
"You were stalling."
"One hundred years is a long time," Violet mused, still watching the kings. Cassian had tucked his face into Evander's neck, and Evander's hand was stroking slow circles on his back.
"It is," Aneara agreed. "But bonds like that do not break. They only bend. Sometimes they need a force to remind them of their shape."
"You're a force," Mira said dryly.
"I am a force," Aneara acknowledged. She lifted her glass in a toast. "To the friends who remind us we are made for love."
Violet should have gone to them. She should have crossed the distance, slipped between them, pressed her body against theirs and let them surround her. The bond pulsed with that call, warm and hungry.
But she did not move.
Because watching them, she understood something. The four nights they had shared together had been extraordinary, yes. But they had also been a fresh start, and a fresh start meant bandages had been pulled off old wounds. The kings had not laughed like that in her presence. They had not touched each other with that easy, unthinking intimacy. They had been careful with each other, learning the shape of what they used to be.
Now they were finding it again.
Without her.
No, not without her. Around her. With her as the reason, perhaps, that they had finally begun to reach for each other again. Violet felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the honey wine.
"Should we interrupt?" she asked softly.
Mira followed her gaze. The kings were lost in each other now, murmuring words that would not be shared, their hands mapping each other like they had all the time in the world.
"Absolutely not," Mira said. "They've earned that moment. And you've earned the sight of it."
"Is that a witch thing?"
"It's a friend thing. Watch, they'll come back to you when they're ready." Mira tugged at Violet's arm. "Come on. Let them have their moment. We'll find you something that isn't going to send you to the healers with a sugar crash."
Violet allowed herself to be steered away, but she looked back once.
Cassian had pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to brush Evander's cheek. He said something, and Evander's face softened in a way that transformed him completely, stripping away the stern king to reveal the man beneath. Their foreheads touched again.
"Should they be discovered?" Aneara murmured.
"Let them be discovered." Violet smiled. "They deserve to be found."
They wove through the crowd, away from the dance circle, toward the long table where the festival's bounty lay spread. Violet had caught glimpses of it earlier, but now she let its scent guide her. Roast meats, warm bread, honey dripping from wheels of cheese. A witch with burn scars on her arms was carving a joint of venison, and another was ladling out bowls of root stew that steamed fragrant steam into the cool night air.
"Eat," Mira said, pushing a plate into Violet's hands. "And try not to think about how they're probably going to spirit you away to that tent before the night is out."
"Are they?"
"Queen Violet," Aneara said, deadpan, "you have two husbands who just married you beneath an eclipsed moon. They are going to do considerably more than spirit you away."
Violet's cheeks burned. She ducked her head, loading a thick slice of bread with honeyed butter, and took a bite to hide her smile.
The food was good. She had not realized how hungry she was until the first bite landed, sharp and warm and welcome. She ate standing, swaying slightly to the distant drumbeat, while Mira and Aneara conversed over her head about whether the fae delegation had brought enough wine and whether the young wolves were going to pass out before midnight.
"She's watching them again," Mira said.
"I am not."
"You are. Your eyes are going all soft and wondering. If you stare any harder, you'll go cross-eyed."
Violet looked away deliberately, at the table, at the food, at the dancers. Anywhere but back toward the oak, where her husbands were finding each other again.
It was hard, this level of joy.
She had waited centuries to feel it, and now she did not know what to do with the overflow.
Another few bites, and the hollow in her stomach settled. The wine warmed her. The drumbeat slowed, and a wolf somewhere began to sing, a low, keening melody that made the hair on her arms rise.
"They're coming," Aneara said.
Violet did not turn. She took another bite of bread, chewing carefully.
"Don't look," Mira stage-whispered. "Let them come to you."
Violet chewed.
The crowd shifted around her, parting, and then the warmth of them arrived like the tide coming in. Cassian pressed against her left side, hand finding her waist. Evander slid in on her right, his arm a band across her back, settling at the curve of her hip.
"You've been watching us," Cassian said, not a question.
"I have."
"And did you like what you saw?"
Violet turned her head. His eyes were bright, his smile easy, his hair more tousled than before. She reached up and smoothed a strand away from his temple.
"I liked it very much."
Evander's hand tightened on her hip. "Good. Because we decided something, while you were watching."
"What did you decide?"
He did not answer in words. He leaned down and kissed her, slow and thorough, his mouth tasting of wine and something warmer. When he pulled back, Violet's mind was a pleasantly fuzzy cloud.
"We decided," Cassian said, his voice low, "that we've spent enough time away from you tonight."
"People are watching," Violet whispered.
"Let them."
"For all the right reasons," Evander corrected.
"Reason," Cassian amended. "Singular. She's the reason."
Violet laughed, ducking her head against Evander's chest, feeling the rumble of his answering chuckle against her cheek. Mira made a gagging sound somewhere behind her, and Aneara's dry voice floated over the drumbeat.
"Queen Violet, your husbands are going to be insufferable for at least a century. You've ruined them."
"I'll take the trade." Violet lifted her head, meeting Cassian's golden gaze, then Evander's blue one. "I think I'll take the whole deal."