Without any impending crisis or urgent affairs demanding his attention, Meron had decided not to delegate the task to one of his children as it had happened for Vastor’s wedding.
Friya stood at the King’s right, dressed in a simple cream-colored day dress with no neckline and a hoop skirt to not outshine the bride during her special day. Her long hair was held up in a do that gave her features a sharp look and made her eyes look cold.
Ajatar stood at the King’s left, wearing a black evening suit and wearing the appearance of an unremarkable man slightly shorter than Morok with dirty blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes, the color of his scales.
Friya looked at his parents and brothers, sitting on the first row, and felt a pang at the sight of Phloria’s chair. Yet she said nothing, moving her gaze on to the second row where Nalrond was sitting.
The Rezar seemed to be even more tense than Morok and more distressed than Friya but the moment their eyes met, he put a smile on his face and waved at her in a congratulatory gesture.
“Today, we are assembled here to celebrate the union between Quylla Nimea Daphne Ernas and Morok Eari. Ranger Eari served the Kingdom for six years, longer than most of his colleagues, defending the North from the enemies lurking inside and outside our borders.
“His service has been dotted with feats that few believed possible and even fewer think they can ever be equalled.” Meron avoiding to clarify whether said feats were good or bad spoke volumes about how hard it had been to find something to say about the groom without embarrassing the hosts in front of their guests.
“It was during those days that Morok and Quylla met, during the dreadful expedition that led them to Kulah and to the discovery of the horrors of the still-living Odi civilization.
“Their bond started there and grew over time. I would love to tell you that it’s a love story the likes bards like to sing about but life is seldom so kind. Even after the end of the expedition, the cruelty of the Odi rippled through our lives.
“It brought unfair trials, assassination attempts, and the betrayal of a man who sold the Kingdom he had sworn to protect to its enemies. Yet good things were born from such hardships.
“Bonds were created, loyalties tested and found flawless. It’s only through hard times that we can achieve the things we cherish the most. We don’t understand what we truly want until we are forced to fight to protect it.
“We fight for the living because they give meaning to our existence and when we fail, we live for the dead. Because as long as we don’t forget about them, they are never truly gone.
“Because as long as we carry in our hearts the part of them that they have entrusted to us, they never truly leave our side and give us the strength to fight the good fights.” Meron stared for a second at Phloria’s things, giving her parents a small bow and taking a moment of silence.
“Morok’s and Quylla’s relationship has endured much, just like them. They have laughed, cried, and looked at their future in fear together. Yet they have also chosen to be here today and show us that they want to face it together.
“With our presence, we acknowledge their will and offer them our support. Because there’s nothing that a loving couple can’t achieve if they have the help of their family and friends.
“Peace and joy can’t be granted, only earned. My hope is that Quylla and Morok will build such a happiness for themselves that they will be able to afford to share it with us and the rest of Mogar.
“Quylla, Morok. Pronounce your vows to each other.”
Ajatar handed Morok the deep violet robe that only a Royal Decree could make a Magus’. It was wrapped with the unbreakable knot of the betrothal gifts. The Tyrant held it with care as if it could break apart.
“Quylla, I could say many things about our time in Kulah, of how we met and spoke. Yet such anecdotes would embarrass you and aren’t suited for a day like today.” Morok said, making her chuckle.
“What I mean to say is that all things considered, I can’t believe we’ve got to this point. I don’t know if I’ve ever said or done anything to deserve this happiness, the only thing I know is that I don’t want to lose it.
“When I thought that Deirus had taken you away from me I discovered that your absence made my life unbearable and when you came back, I understood that I wanted to spend every moment I had left with you.”
Morok handed the violet robe to her.
“This is my betrothal gift. It may look silly and without much value, like me, but it expresses my will to stand by your side and help you achieve anything you want. I have no ambition and I don’t care what the destination of my is as long as you take the journey with me.”
Meron’s nostrils flared and his brows furrowed at the highly unorthodox gift shoved right in front of his face, but he said nothing. He was there only as a witness, not as a judge of the soundness of their union.
Also, Jirni glared at him with an intensity that covered the King in a cold sweat.
Quylla accepted the Magus robe, taking the knot off and keeping it inside one of the pockets before wearing it.
“I could say many things about the first days of the expedition to Kulah as well, but you are right. They are unsuited for this day and bring too much pain.” Quylla looked at Phloria’s chair and a thin smile appeared at the memory of Morok mistaking her for a man.
“What I can say is that, despite its ups and downs, being with you has never been boring. You’ve made me laugh even when it was improper and when I get angry with you, it never lasts long.
“No matter how rude what you do or say is, there’s never ill-will in you. When I think back at the time we spent together, even our arguments, it makes me smile because you’ve always been honest with me, telling me what I needed to hear instead of what I wanted to hear.”
At a snap of her fingers, Lucky trotted from Orion’s side to her. The big red-furred Ry wore a big black bowtie on his collar and carried a small box in his mouth.
It was unorthodox as well since it was up to the bridesmaid to carry the betrothal gift.
Quylla opened the box, revealing an ornate Orichalcum key with a violet mana stone the size of a pea on either side. It was wrapped with a betrothal knot that passed through the hole in the head so that it wouldn’t mess with the lock.
“This is my betrothal gift. It’s the key to the house that my parents gifted to me and that I signed over to you.” She handed it to him leaving Morok and her parents flabbergasted.
