With a brief hesitation at the dismissal, Arun guided Anife away, and my attention drifted to Maith trailing behind them. I followed her gaze to the balcony, where Finnegan stood laughing, eyebrows waggling as though he had just said something to Joy, Astrid and Gwinifer. My sister’s strawberry hair was pinned high, her posture relaxed beside them.
The sight made me want to smile.
“He is bold, I’ll give him that,” Reagan muttered once we were alone, tugging at the collar of his shirt as if the room had suddenly grown too warm. His eyes were still locked on the back of Arun’s head.
“I just think his ego is hurt,” I murmured, conscious of their remarkable hearing.
He hummed. “If he keeps looking at you like that, he will be hurt in worse ways.”
Reagan didn’t bother with speaking low, almost as if he wanted to be heard.
A flash of purple silk drew my attention as the Lord and Lady of Erisea entered the ballroom, but before I could look properly, Cerridwen appeared before us.
“Well,” she said briskly, “since you asked for an express ceremony, you may both come with me. Reagan, where is your jacket?”
“I got the sleeve stained. Had to get rid of it,” he explained. I bet it was a lie. He just hated wearing jackets.
We followed her towards the far end of the ballroom, where golden sconces lined the way.
“So you will be bonded in a shirt and vest?” she asked, letting out a long, irritated sigh.
“Jane likes me better in fewer clothes,” Caedmon said, grinning crookedly at me. I couldn’t help but smile.
Guests parted as we passed, so many eyes following us that my stomach fluttered.
At the far end waited a woman in white embroidered robes, auburn hair cropped shorter than Finn’s. Next to her, Magister Nova Malory waited, her hands folded in front of her as they watched us approach.
Cerridwen stepped aside and faced Reagan. I thought she was about to chide him for the jacket again, but she simply put her hands on his shoulders.
“They would be proud of you,” she said, sounding content.
Caedmon dipped his chin but didn’t speak. It brought my father to mind and a pang to my chest. I searched the crowd behind us. Joy stood at the far corner, now inside the ballroom.Shewas here.
Cerridwen’s gaze moved to me then. “I know you would have liked to have your father here. Perhaps it will serve as a small comfort to know that, before he left, he told me he always knew you wanted to fly higher. He knew you would, Jane.”
Something tugged in my chest. I hadn’t known that she’d spoken to him, but knowing Cerridwen, I imagined she would have done so to offer him some kind of reassurance.
I hugged her briefly. “Thank you.”
Cerridwen let us pass, and we took the final steps towards the Druid Matron and the magister.
Caedmon inclined his head in greeting, and I repeated the gesture.
“Matron Maelthine,” he said. “Your Honour. Thank you for coming today.”
The Druid’s face remained impassive, black eyes gentle as they moved between us. “Lord Reagan,” she replied, her voice lyrical. “This shall be an unconventional rite.”
My head cocked to the side, but she offered no explanation, and there was no time to ask.
“Congratulations,” Malory said stoically, her eyes settling on me “Miss Darling, do you mind?”
A low, narrow table stood between us and two imposing figures, a quill, ink and our official bonding paper resting upon it.
Inhaling, I finally gave the magister the proof she had been waiting for, that I could wield my mana at will. I had been informed that it could be something simple, so I merely lifted the quill, summoning it to my hand and returning it to the table. The flap of familiar wings greeted my ears.
Malory dipped her chin. In an instant, the sentence mark on my arm faded, releasing me from her sentence.
Using the ink, Caed and I signed our names on the judge’s paper, the official confirmation that our bonding had been approved under mage folk law.
