Page 102 of Consort's Glory
He tried not to feel like an ass. Of course she wanted it to be perfect. This meant something to her, and she was already sacrificing so much of her traditions to do this now, without her family present and without warning.
Take as much time as you need, darling, he told her, giving their bond a slow mental caress of apology.
Theodore did another circuit up and down the long aisle, trying to get the restlessness out. He would never, ever admit it to Viktor, but he was nervous. Not because he was afraid to officially join with his consort — they had, of course, already done as much on their own — but because…
Because this was it. This moment, when Margot publicly declared herself as his and he declared himself as hers — it was finally, after so many years, here. His consort was bonded to him. He bound himself to her. In the eyes of Glory and the law, they would be considered one.
The excitement, and the dread that at the last moment some terrible thing would happen to tear her from his grasp, made him feel as though his bones might jump out of his skin and run away without the rest of him. He wanted this over with. He wanted Margot in his bed now so that no one and nothing could deny them what they were owed.
A heavy hand clasped his shoulder. Theodore craned his neck to see his brother standing behind him, one hand casually tucked into a pocket of his slacks. “Hey,” he muttered, too low for even shifter ears to pick up. “You okay?”
Theodore’s throat was tight when he admitted, “I’m scared.”
Kaz’s dark brows drew together with confusion. Slowly, he asked, “Are you… unsure about the witch? I thought—”
“No.” Theodore shook his head and blew out a long, shuddering breath. Quieter, he continued, “No, never. She’s mine. I’m just…” Fear made his chest tight, his fingertips tingle as his claws flexed against the insides of his claw-caps. “I’m just afraid that something will go wrong. I’ve waited for so long. To have this so close… I’m…” He swallowed.
Kaz squeezed his shoulder before sliding one heavily muscled arm around Theodore’s neck, drawing him in close to whisper in his ear, “Nothing is going to take this from you, Teddy. You’ve fought for this every single day for twenty-five years — and I’m damn proud of you for it. You might be older than me by a month, but I think we both know who the big brother is here.” A low, husky chuckle, as familiar to him as the scent of home and the embrace of the people he loved most in the world. “I’ve got your back, Teddy. Always. Everything is going to be fine.”
Theodore rested his forehead on Kaz’s shoulder for just a moment, his eyes closing as he breathed in his brother’s smoky scent and the aura of pure, quiet strength he radiated.
Pride was a dull ache in his chest: for himself, for the woman he was lucky enough to call his own, for the brother who stood by him always, for the family they shared. Theodore was terribly, painfully proud to call himself a Solbourne. For all that they’d survived, for all that they’d clung to one another with love instead of bitterness or lust for power. They were a family.
Margot was part of that family. Kaz would fight to the death to protect her, to make sure his brother would know the happiness he longed for.
If Theodore knew anything for certain, it was that his family would go to any length, would endure any hardship, would cross any line, to ensure his happiness. Just as he would do the same for him.
Loyalty to family meant more than just blood. It meant doing what needed to be done to see the people you loved thrive.
Something niggled at the back of his mind. Not the bond, which burned with sweet electricity through his soul, but suspicion. Raising his head, Theodore took a step back to look into his brother’s face when he asked, “Have you heard from Delilah?”
Kaz shook his head, his normally impassive face giving away nothing. “Plan is to arrive tomorrow morning to be here in time for your address. Why?”
Theodore swallowed. Looking away, he muttered, “Just… Why didn’t she say anything about the bomb? If Marian was behind it, she had to see it, Kaz.”
“You know just as well as I do that questioning Delilah is useless.” Kaz pressed his hand between Theodore’s shoulder blades and pushed him back toward the altar. “Don’t get yourself worked into a knot about it, Teddy. It’s not worth it. Just focus on the now.”
“But what about Marian?” he pressed, voice echoing off of the cathedral walls. “Have you—”
“After, Teddy.” Kaz’s expression was hard, utterly implacable. “Please don’t make me spoil your wedding. I really don’t want to.”
“I’ve heard it’s bad luck to discuss a bombing before a mating celebration,” Viktor chimed in from where he leaned casually against the armrest of a mahogany pew.
That sounded like bullshit, but Theodore bit back his acerbic reply. Straightening his cape and the buckles across his chest made to look like two entwined thistles, he sent his brother a significant look. “Fine, but we are discussing it after.”
Kaz smiled, slow and knowing. “If you aren’t too busy, of course.”
* * *
Margot stared at the sketch on the small square table by the stained glass window. The office behind the altar, presumably where the Gloriae worked when they were not speaking the words of Glory to the devotees who sought succor in her light, was warm, the air heavy with the scent of incense. Drapes of paper-thin red silk hung next to the stained glass windows, the cloth brightened into translucency as sunlight streamed through scenes of the creation of the races and their acceptance of Glory’s gifts.
“Is it everything you want it to be?” Petra asked. She stood beside Margot, their hips nearly touching, a pencil in her long-fingered, perfectly manicured hand.
Margot swallowed the knot in her throat. The image on the paper was slightly blurry, but she could see it well enough through her tears.
“Yes.” The word was choked, barely understandable, so she tried again. “Yes, it’s perfect.”
Soft fingers skimmed her bare elbow. “Are you sure about this, sister?”
