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“Well, we’re probably going to die tomorrow, so I’d like it done tonight.” Blaise is clearly high on whatever exchange she and Nox just had in that locked bedroom.
I really don’t want to know.
I groan, wiping my forehead. “I can’t marry you.”
Blaise narrows her eyes. “What do you mean, you can’t marry us?”
“I mean that I’m no longer King of Naenden, meaning I have no authority by which to aid you in exchanging your nuptials.” What I don’t add is that while I’m willing to ally with Blaise, that doesn’t mean I feel like granting her joy while Asha is still trapped within Az’s clutches—because of Blaise.
Still, Blaise’s face actually falls, which I find surprising.
“I didn’t take you to be the type to care about going by procedure,” I say.
She shrugs. “I’m trying something new.”
It’s strange to me that this is so important to her. Blaise isn’t the type to care about the rules, and frankly, I would have expected her to cast off the idea of marriage altogether.
My fingers clench at my sides, and I find myself agitated, not wishing Blaise a drop of happiness until Asha’s is restored.
Still, as irritated as I am with her for betraying us, every time I try to hate her for it, my mind flashes back to the cavern and the shadow siren, my hand dripping with blood as I debated ripping Blaise’s heart out of her chest to gift Asha immortality.
So, yes. As much as I’d love to hate Blaise, I think doing so would mean I’d have to hate myself.
And Asha’s told me multiple times I’m not allowed to do that.
So I settle somewhere in the middle, not quite wishing Blaise harm, but not reveling in her joy, either.
“I suppose,” Fin says, rubbing the back of his neck, “that I maybe could do it.”
Each word drips with regret, but it’s too late for my brother to take back his offer, because Blaise has already locked in on him.
“Why can you officiate a marriage if Kiran can’t?” asks Lydia, skeptically.
“Because,” sighs Fin, “technically, I’m still Prince of Talens.”
“You’re what?” Lydia and I say in unison.
“Oh, don’t act so jealous,” Fin says. “You both know I never had any true power. Apparently, Azrael is well aware of that too, because he didn’t think it worthy of his time to go through the paperwork to depose me.”
“That might be the most emasculating thing I’ve ever heard,” says Lydia.
“Thank you for that, Lydia,” Fin says, speaking through clamped teeth.
I’m not used to seeing the two of them bicker, but I can’t help but find it satisfying.
Blaise just throws her arms around Fin, wrapping him in an embrace.
Fin’s expression betrays that he’d like nothing more than for Blaise to get away from his neck, but when he sets her down, there’s a resigned smile on his face.
When he and I lock eyes, the smile dissipates, and as Blaise scampers off to get ready, my brother leans over and whispers, eyes full of sympathy, “I’ll make it quick.”
My chest tightens in gratitude.
Blaise and Nox wanted the ceremony to happen immediately, but Bezzie insisted there had to be a reception afterward if this wedding was going to count, and she didn’t want to miss the wedding for all the cooking she was going to have to do; we had to wait an hour for her to make her famous hummus.
Now that the scent of hummus is wafting in from downstairs, the ceremony can finally begin.
There wasn’t any time, or anywhere, to get Blaise any sort of traditional wedding garb, so she’s dressed in paldihv.
