Page 26 of On Brutal Thrones

“Most things,” I amend.

“Acceptable.”

I smile before looking back at her. “I want a family with you, Nyx. We all do.”

For several seconds, she only stares at us.

“I don't even know what to say,” she finally manages, wiping uselessly at the tears on her cheeks. “This is... Divines, this is wonderful.”

“There is a traditional response,” Talon offers.

Nyx laughs again. “Yes.”

My heart nearly stops.

“Yes?” I repeat.

“Yes, Fenric.” She holds out her trembling hand. “Of course I'll marry you. All of you.”

Relief crashes through me so hard that I laugh. My hands aren't entirely steady as I slide the birch ring onto her finger.

It fits.

Thank the Divines, it fits.

Nyx holds up her hand, turning it toward the morning light. The pale birch looks delicate against her skin, the woven strands catching the gold of the rising sun.

“It's beautiful,” she whispers.

“It’s temporary,” I tell her quickly. “We’ll get you a better ring.”

Her hand drops, and she looks at me like I've just said something incredibly stupid.

“Fenric.”

“What?”

She looks at the ring again, touching the weave carefully with her other hand. “The three of you made this for me.”

“Well, yes.”

“There isn’t anything better.”

That shuts me up.

Her smile trembles as she turns the ring toward the light once more. “I can't wait to show Lyra⁠—”

And then, in the span of a single blink, everything changes.

Nyx is there one moment, and gone the next.

My mind refuses to understand it at first. One second, she’s standing with us in the clearing, and the next the earth gives a violent crack beneath our feet. Flowers vanish in a burst of dirt. Dust explodes into the air. Nyx cries out, a short, startled sound that cuts off so abruptly my blood turns cold.

Thorian moves before I do.

He throws himself forward as the ground collapses, disappearing into the cloud of dust while I stand frozen for one useless heartbeat.

Then I understand.