The priest addresses the happy couple. “Are you ready to speak your vows?”
Farah and Loras nod in unison, then he speaks. “Farah, I take you as my wedded wife in the sight of all our people and beneath the sky blessed by the goddess. She hears my words, knows that I will love and keep you, forsaking all others, no matter what fortune holds. You are the brightest star in my soul’s firmament and I will ever navigate by your light. I could ask nothing more than to stay by your side, so long as I draw breath. Will you have me as yours?”
“Yes,” she says firmly.
She looks every inch the princess, and the people adore her. They lean in to catch her vows.
“Loras, you gave me strength when I thought all was lost. You led us all from darkness and into the light. When I would have faltered, you drew me on with gentle hands and caring words. You are the center of my heart, and I will always follow you. Will you have me as yours?”
“Yes,” he answers.
The priest turns to an assistant, and he passes each of them a lit candle. In the soft wind, the flames flicker slightly, casting small shadows on the ground. This is a romantic, primitive tradition, but some part of me thrills to it. I know what’s coming.
“These flames represent your love. You must nurture it and never let that brightness die. Its brightness rests forevermore in your hands.” He steps forward with a bigger candle, this one with a dry wick. “Together, you must kindle a new flame to represent the journey you undertake together.”
Smiling at one another as if they’re the only ones present instead of surrounded by thousands, as if there isn’t an enormous picture of them projected onto one of the buildings nearby, they lean in together and join the flames, lighting the bigger candle. The priest nods in approval and hands the candle to his aide, then murmurs, “Take care with it.”
Then, louder, he intones, “Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth for the other. Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other. Now you are two persons, but there are three lives before you: His life, Her life, and Your life together. The goddess blesses your union, and to you, the people, I present your First Lord and Lady of La’heng, bound and blessed by their love and yours.”
The cheers are deafening.
After the ceremony, Loras stops to give us the good news. “I’ve allotted you a ship from the vessels impounded from the Nicuan as reparations. I think you’ll be pleased.”
“Thanks,” I tell him. “I’m looking forward to flying.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he begins, but the press want a piece of the new leader of La’heng, and I watch him go, smiling.
CHAPTER 58
After victory comes pomp and circumstance. I doze through the speeches until I hear Sasha’s name. While he receives his medal, I acknowledge how grown-up March’s nephew has become. He looks so handsome in his dress uniform. The rest of his SpecForce unit is on point, fast to march, fast to salute. They do some tricks for the crowd, showing off their amazing cohesive ass-kicking expertise…and then, at long last, the ceremony ends. It’s a grand finale.
People file out.
March and I lose the others in the crowd. I spot Tiana with a group of other survivors. She lifts a hand to me, and I salute her. Deven, too, lived through the epic Battle of Jineba, but he’s full of sorrow without Darana; he lost so much. I saw his profile on the bounce, and it made me cry.
On the steps outside, I stand on tiptoe, looking for Sasha. Eventually I spot him. He stands with his unit. They’re talking, clasping each other on the shoulder and promising to keep in touch. Though March and I are standing to the side, watching, I can guess what’s being said. Now that it’s finally over, they’re going their separate ways.
Some of the squad will remain together. I hear that Loras is creating an elite police force to make sure all the foreigners depart in a timely fashion. SpecForce will be given first crack at that cush civilian posting. Some of these soldiers prefer to remain part of the first standing army that La’heng has mustered in over two hundred turns. It’s a proud tradition commencing again.
Sasha, on the other hand, well, his future lies elsewhere. As if he senses my regard, he breaks away from the throng and comes toward us in long, graceful strides. He’s taller than March by four centimeters now, and he might well keep growing. He’s only sixteen, after all, but how many kids his age can say they’ve done what he has?
Amazing.
March shines with a pride that he doesn’t bother to conceal. “The medal looks good on your uniform, kid.”
“Yeah, well. I can’t have you hogging them all, old man.”
“Have you given any thought to where you want to go now?”
He’s fully trained. And he’s been using his powers professionally for the last two turns. I’d bet he can pass any certification test Psi Corp throws at him.
“I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure I’d get in, but…they accepted me on New Terra. I’m going into an accelerated work-study program. In three turns, I’ll be trained to help engineers stabilize dangerous tectonics on worlds that need a little tweaking before they’re suitable for colonization.”
By March’s expression, he had no idea this was cooking. I glance between them, thinking the job sounds exciting as hell, probably dangerous, too, which might be why a frown’s building between his dark brows. I lace my fingers through his, squeeze them. He growls silently in my head. I get it, Jax.
You have to respect his choices. If he was old enough to fight—
Remember, we weren’t exactly in accord on that.
March. That’s all it takes.
Fine.
“Do you still need Psi Corp certification?” he asks.