SIX MONTHS LATER

The feast was a dazzling affair, the large ceremonial tent of RuthValis adorned with flowers, silks, and lanterns that shimmered like captured stars.

Musicians played soft, lilting melodies as the people of the wereworld gathered, their joy tempered by the solemn remembrance of battles fought and lives lost.

At the heart of it all, Baron and Elowyn stood together beneath a canopy of white and gold.

Their hands were intertwined, fingers locked as if they had never been ...