“Absolutely not.” Darragh crossed the space between them and pulled Finn into his arms. “I didn’t even notice you were gone.”
“Liar.” Finn’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Helena said you’ve been haunting the windows.”
“Helena talks too much.”
“She wrote me letters. Very detailed letters about the king’s ‘unprecedented sulking.’”
“Traitor.” But Darragh was smiling too hard to make it sound convincing. “How was Winrone?”
“Chaotic. Mother insisted on personally selecting my wedding attire, which involved approximately seventeen fittings. Jericho kept making speeches about how proud he was. And Trent finished the village hall door, although he claims it’s not as good as when I do it.”
“Of course it’s not. You’re going to be the king consort. Your doors are obviously superior.”
Finn laughed again, and Darragh felt his heart settle. Three weeks had been far too long.
“Your Majesty.” The Earl of Winrone approached with Finn’s mother and brothers behind him. “Thank you for the hospitality.”
Oh, right. Finn wasn’t the only one in the carriage. Darragh reluctantly released his soon-to-be husband and greeted the family properly, though he kept Finn’s hand in his. The next hour blurred with introductions, room assignments, and wedding preparations, but Darragh barely registered any of it. Finn was back. That was the only thing that mattered.
/~/~/~/~/
The wedding ceremony took place in the castle’s chapel, with afternoon light streaming through the stained glass windows turning the stone floor into a patchwork of color. Darragh stood at the altar in his formal navy jacket, the gold embroidery catching the light, as he turned and watched Finn walk down the aisle.
Finn was dressed in deep forest green that brought out the warmth in his brown eyes. He’d trimmed his hair, though it still stuck up a bit in the back. Darragh loved that about him. Even at his own wedding, Finn couldn’t quite look perfectly polished.
The Earl of Winrone delivered Finn to the altar with a pat on the shoulder, then took his seat. Finn’s hands were shaking when Darragh took them.
“You look amazing,” Darragh whispered.
“You do too.” Finn’s voice cracked slightly. “Though I might throw up.”
“Please don’t. Helena spent three weeks planning this.”
“No promises.”
The wedding official, an elderly man named Benedict who’d served Darragh’s parents, cleared his throat. “Shall we begin? The grooms have chosen to say their own vows. Your Majesty, if you’d like to begin.”
Darragh had spent hours agonizing over what he was going to say, trying to find words that captured everything he felt without it sounding like bad poetry. In the end, he’d settled on his honest feelings. They were the things most valued by Finn, and the words were meant for him.
“Finn.” His voice carried through the chapel. “Three months ago, I was convinced I’d never find someone who could see past the crown. Someone who’d call me out when I was being a fool, who would actually understand my awful jokes and laugh at them, and who’d choose repairing a village hall door over sitting through a formal banquet, because everyone here knows how much I like to get my hands dirty.” He squeezed Finn’s hands. “Then you showed up and insulted yourself for fifteen minutes straight, and I knew I was in trouble.”
Laughter rippled through the audience. Finn’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“You challenge me. You surprise me. You make me want to be better, not because you demand it, but because you deserve it.” Darragh swallowed hard. “I can’t promise I’ll always be easy to live with. I’m stubborn and loud, and I hate compliments. But I can promise I’ll always see you - not as my consort or my adviser, but as Finn. The man who chose me even when he thought it was a terrible idea.”
Finn was definitely crying now, though he was smiling too. “Well, now I’m going to sound ridiculous no matter what I say.”
More laughter. Even Benedict was grinning.
“Darragh.” Finn took a shaky breath. “I came here expecting to fail spectacularly and go home to my normal life. Instead, I found someone who listened when I talked, who valued my honesty even when it was inconvenient, and who looked at me like I mattered.” His voice steadied. “I’m going to mess up. I’m going to say the wrong thing at state dinners and probably offend at least three ambassadors a month. But I promise I’ll always be honest with you. I’ll argue when you’re wrong, celebrate when you’re right, and show up every single Thursday for the rest of our lives.”
Darragh’s throat was tight. “You’d better.”
“I do.”
“We haven’t gotten to that part yet,” Benedict said mildly.
“Right.” Finn grinned. “Sorry.”
