Chapter 343: The Promises We Chose

On the morning of May fourteenth, Adriana woke before I did.

I knew because the first thing I heard was her telling Evelyn that she was perfectly capable of eating a biscuit without supervision.

“Then eat it,” Evelyn said.

There was a short silence.

“You are enjoying this.”

“Only a little.”

I opened my eyes.

Adriana sat against the pillows with a cup beside her and a small plate in her lap. Evelyn was seated at the edge of the bed, still in her nightclothes.

Beyond them, morning light touched the curtains.

No rain.

Adriana saw me looking toward the window.

“Was that you?”

“No.”

“Good. Cassia owes me a ribbon.”

I reached for her hand.

“How are you feeling?”

She considered the question seriously.

“Nervous. A little sick. Very happy.”

Evelyn leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“That will do for a beginning.”

The first knock came before I had found my boots.

Helena entered with Mirelle, took one look at me, and pointed toward the adjoining room.

“Garrick is waiting to help you dress.”

“I have managed it before.”

“And today you will manage it with assistance.”

Evelyn smiled into her cup.

Adriana caught my hand before I could leave.

For a moment, she held on tightly.

I bent and kissed her.

“I will see you in the chapel.”

“On the correct side,” Evelyn said.

“Both of you are going to remember that forever.”

“Probably,” Adriana replied.

She let me go smiling.

Garrick Valewood had laid out my coat, polished boots, and the cloth flower from Tobin’s mother.

Lexander stood beside the window.

“You look calm,” he said.

“I have not fastened anything yet.”

That proved significant.

The first clasp took two attempts.

Garrick quietly took over the second.

Lexander watched with the expression of a man gathering material for later use.

“I could ask you to leave,” I told him.

“You could.”

He handed me the flower instead.

Garrick fastened it carefully, then stepped back.

For a little while, he simply looked at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

His voice had changed.

He brushed a speck from my shoulder that I could not see.

“Evelyn is happy. Adriana is happy. I have watched you work very hard at things that frightened you more than you admitted.”

I swallowed.

“I have had help.”

“Keep accepting it.”

Then he gripped my shoulder once and returned to inspecting the coat.

Lexander looked out the window until I could trust my voice again.

Julian came to fetch Garrick.

He wore a formal coat that had required alterations within the last week, and his hair had clearly lost an argument with someone determined.

In his hands was the family book.

“Mother is ready.”

Garrick nodded.

“Then we had better go.”

Julian remained in the doorway.

“Uriah?”

“Yes?”

He glanced down at the book.

“Adriana said I should tell you that she is happy.”

My throat tightened again.

“Tell her I am too.”

He nodded solemnly, then looked at my flower.

His smile came more easily.

“You remembered.”

“Of course.”

When he and Garrick had gone, I stood quietly beside the table.

Lexander joined me.

“Ready?”

I took one breath.

Then another.

“Yes.”

The chapel smelled of fresh greenery and warmed wood.

Ribbons ran along the ends of the benches. Flowers stood in simple vessels wherever they would leave room for people to move.

There were familiar faces everywhere.

Mary sat beside Melody, who looked rested enough to deny she had ever been tired. Thor occupied the aisle seat near them.

King Edric and Queen Celestine had gathered their children close. Beyond them sat other families who had arrived at our gates carrying what remained of their lives.

Lisbeth was helping Io settle the children.

That appeared to be going about as well as expected.

Seraphina wanted to stand.

Ignatius wanted whatever Seraphina was holding.

Carol saw me and waved with both hands.

Garrick tried to join her and nearly left his seat.

I waved back.

Aurelia waited at the front.

She wore no expression of distant divinity today.

She looked like a woman pleased to see her family coming together.

When I reached her, she took my hands briefly.

“Breathe,” she said.

“I am.”

“Continue.”

Evelyn entered with her parents.

I had seen her that morning.

I had watched her laugh over a cup of tea.

None of that prepared me for the sight of her walking toward me now.

Her dress caught the light as she moved. One of the little cloth flowers rested near her heart.

She was smiling before she reached me.

Garrick kissed her cheek. Helena held her a moment longer, whispered something that made her laugh, and then let her go.

My wife took her place beside me.

The correct one.

I offered my hand.

She took it.

“You look beautiful,” I said quietly.

“You have all your clasps fastened.”

“Your father helped.”

“I know.”

Then her smile softened, and she squeezed my fingers.

“So do you.”

We waited together for Adriana.

Later, Mirelle told me what had happened in the room outside the chapel.

She had read Julian’s account of her own wedding.

Roderic forgetting where to stand.

Her taking his hand.

Cassia had laughed first, then cried despite her warning about princely discretion.

Julian had passed her a handkerchief without comment.

Adriana had kissed the page before closing the book.

They had left it somewhere safe.

Then they came to us.

Mirelle walked beside her daughter, with Cassia and Julian close on the other side.

Adriana’s gaze found mine.

Then Evelyn’s.

She smiled at us both.

I could remember almost nothing afterward about the flowers along that aisle.

I remembered the small breath she took when she reached us.

I remembered Mirelle smoothing a fold at her shoulder even though it needed no attention.

I remembered Julian standing a little straighter when Adriana squeezed his hand.

And I remembered Evelyn reaching out first.

Adriana took her hand.

Then mine.

Aurelia gave us a moment before speaking.

“We have gathered to witness promises freely made.”

Her voice carried easily through the chapel.

“Uriah and Evelyn stand here already married. The life they have built together remains theirs, with its joys, its obligations, and the children entrusted to their care.”

Evelyn’s thumb moved across my knuckles.

“Today, they welcome Adriana into their marriage, and each makes promises to her that only they can choose and only they can keep.”

I looked at Adriana.

Her eyes were bright.

“Those of us who love them,” Aurelia continued, “have promises of our own to remember. To offer help when it is needed. To give them room to learn. To be glad for their happiness.”

She smiled toward the benches.

“There appears to be a considerable amount of that here today.”

A small laugh moved through the chapel.

My shoulders loosened.

Evelyn and I turned toward one another first.

Her ring was warm beneath my fingers.

“I would choose you again,” I told her.

The words came more easily than they had on the page.

“Knowing the sleepless nights. Knowing the arguments. Knowing how often you would be right when I hoped you were wrong.”

She laughed softly through tears.

“I would choose our home, our children, and the ordinary mornings I never knew to wish for. I will keep the promises I made to you. And I will keep learning how to be the husband you can trust with everything you are.”

Evelyn took a breath.

“I would choose you again too. I will keep telling you the truth. I will ask for what I need instead of hoping you can guess it.”

Her smile trembled.

“I will remember that I may lean on you. And when our family grows, I will make room with you.”

We pressed our foreheads together for a moment.

When we turned back, Adriana was crying openly.

Evelyn reached to wipe her cheek.

“I was doing very well,” Adriana whispered.

“You still are.”

I faced Adriana with both her hands in mine.

For a moment, I remembered her arrival.

The fear. The exhaustion. Everything her family had lost before reaching our walls.

Then I looked at the woman standing before me now.

“I love you,” I said.

She smiled through her tears.

“I love the way you notice when Julian has gone quiet. The way you argue with Cassia and reach for her hand five minutes later. I love hearing you laugh in our rooms.”

My voice roughened.

“I promise to listen to you. To share the work of our home and the care of our family. To take your fears seriously, and to tell you mine. I will make room for your choices, even when they surprise me.”

Adriana’s fingers tightened around mine.

“And when the day is difficult,” I said, “you will not have to earn my tenderness.”

She closed her eyes briefly.

When she opened them, she was steady.

“I love you too. You gave my family somewhere safe to rest. Then, little by little, you became part of it.”

She glanced toward Julian and Mirelle before looking back at me.

“I promise to build a life with you. To speak honestly, to ask when I do not understand, and to let you care for me without apologizing for needing it.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“I will care for you too. Even when you insist you are perfectly well.”

Somewhere behind us, Thor made a sound of approval.

Adriana laughed, and I laughed with her.

Then she turned to Evelyn.

My wife held out her hands.

Adriana took them without hesitation.

“You frightened me at first,” she said.

Evelyn blinked.

“I did?”

“You seemed to know where you belonged. I did not know whether I would ever feel that way again.”

The chapel grew very quiet.

“Then you sat beside me. You listened. You let me see when you were uncertain too.”

Adriana drew a careful breath.

“I love your courage. I love your kindness. I love that you laugh at things you pretend are beneath your dignity.”

Evelyn smiled through wet eyes.

“I promise to be your wife,” Adriana said. “To care for you when you have spent the day caring for everyone else. To make decisions with you. To delight in your happiness and trust you with mine.”

Evelyn’s answer was quiet at first.

“You belong with us because we love you, and because you have chosen us.”

She drew Adriana’s hands closer.

“I promise that you will have a voice in our home. I will listen to it. I will tell you when I am afraid, and I will trust you enough to let you help.”

Her voice strengthened.

“I will be your wife in the small hours as well as the celebrations. I will laugh with you, grieve with you, and make a life with you. Gladly.”

Adriana leaned forward.

Their foreheads met.

I waited beside them with tears running down my own face.

We exchanged rings with hands that were less steady than any of us wanted to admit.

Evelyn and I kept the rings we already wore. The new bands had been made narrow enough to sit beside them.

Adriana’s ring passed through both our hands before we placed it on hers together.

Then the three of us joined hands.

We had practiced the final promise only once.

This time, we said it slowly.

“We will make our home together. We will share its care, speak truthfully, and meet change with patience. We will protect the freedom with which we choose one another, and keep choosing with love.”

Aurelia rested her hands lightly over ours.

Warmth moved across my fingers.

“May you have many years in which to keep these promises.”

She looked at each of us in turn.

“I witness your marriage, freely chosen and openly declared.”

For a heartbeat, I could hear only Adriana breathing.

Then Aurelia smiled.

“You may kiss your wives, Uriah.”

Carol applauded before I moved.

That began the rest.

Afterward, I remembered the kisses in pieces.

Adriana’s hand against my cheek.

Evelyn laughing softly when I drew her close.

The two of them turning toward each other while the applause rose again.

Then there were children.

Garrick reached us first, followed closely by Carol, while Seraphina and Ignatius arrived with Io attempting to preserve some dignity behind them.

Adriana bent, and Evelyn immediately helped her gather Carol into an embrace.

Julian came more slowly.

For once, he had allowed someone else to watch the four little ones.

Adriana opened her free arm to him.

He stepped into it.

Mirelle reached us a moment later and held all three of us in turn.

“He would have been so glad,” she whispered to Adriana.

Adriana nodded against her shoulder.

I stood close enough that both of them could take my hand.

Outside, Bruni had waited where he could see the chapel doors.

When we emerged, he clapped once.

Several birds left the roof.

“Good wedding,” he announced.

“Very good,” I agreed.

Dorevan and Sareth rested beyond the busiest part of the courtyard, with Aurethar beside them in human form.

Sareth lowered her head as we passed.

“Your people make a great deal of noise when they are pleased.”

“So I have discovered.”

She considered the cheering behind us.

“It is a useful distinction to learn.”

The meal lasted well into the afternoon.

There were more flowers than Mary had admitted to arranging, and more food than I had expected to eat.

The watch ate in turns. Covered trays went to the infirmary, where those who wanted company could join a small celebration of their own.

At our table, Melody was telling Cassia about the shepherd’s shelter with increasingly elaborate complaints about its roof.

Mary corrected only the parts concerning how dry Melody had remained.

Thor appeared to be keeping count.

King Edric danced with his wife when the music began. Two of their children watched with the fascinated embarrassment that apparently belonged to children in every kingdom.

Helena drew Mirelle into a conversation with Lisbeth, and before long all three were laughing.

Julian danced with Adriana.

He watched his feet for the first few steps.

Then she said something that made him look up.

He was still smiling when Garrick Valewood met him at the edge of the floor afterward.

I saw the older man offer his hand for a solemn congratulatory shake.

Julian ignored it and hugged him.

Garrick held him close.

I danced with Evelyn first.

She rested her hand against my shoulder, careful of the little cloth flower.

“You did well,” she said.

“I remembered where to stand.”

“Eventually.”

I drew her closer.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

I looked at her for a moment.

“This life.”

Her expression softened.

“You are helping make it.”

When the music changed, she brought Adriana to me herself.

My new wife placed her hand in mine and smiled as though she was still testing whether all of it was real.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello, wife.”

She laughed, then immediately began crying again.

“That was unfair.”

“I will probably say it quite often.”

“Good.”

By evening, the children had exhausted themselves.

Carol slept against Helena. Garrick had surrendered to his grandfather. Seraphina and Ignatius departed with Io and Lexander after making several unsuccessful attempts to insist they were awake.

Julian stayed long enough to show us a fresh page in his book.

He had written the date at the top.

Below it were our names.

“I haven’t finished,” he said.

“Neither have we,” Evelyn told him.

He looked puzzled for a moment.

Then smiled.

Adriana kissed his forehead.

“Write the happy parts too.”

“I am.”

When we finally returned to our rooms, I closed the door and stood still.

No one knocked.

Adriana looked down at her ring.

Evelyn began removing the pins from her own hair, then gave up halfway and turned to me.

“Help.”

I did.

Adriana sat beside us and carefully unfastened her cloth flower.

There were three of them on the table again by the time we were finished.

For a while, we talked about the ceremony.

Carol’s applause.

Bruni frightening the birds.

Julian refusing to let Cassia pretend she had not cried.

Then Adriana grew quiet.

“I thought I would feel different,” she said.

Evelyn took her hand.

“Do you?”

“A little.”

She looked around the room we had already been sharing.

“Mostly, I feel as though I can finally stop wondering whether I am allowed to be this happy.”

I sat on her other side.

“You are.”

She leaned against me and reached for Evelyn.

Outside, Greykeep settled into the night. The watch remained at its posts. The infirmary lamps still burned.

Inside, my wives drew close, and I put my arms around them both.