Copper Ravens(81)

“I will, Maeve,” Micah murmured, gathering me against him. “On that, you have my word.”





26

Our return to the Whispering Dell was, thankfully, uneventful. I was concerned about leaving Old Stoney’s body out in the open, but Micah and Max both assured me that scavengers would be by to collect the metals and stone; Micah hadn’t even wanted the silver that had come from his own mark, claiming it was tainted. At least, if he was rebuilt into a shop, or maybe into an outhouse, Old Stoney would finally be doing something useful.

Micah’s recovery was slower that I would have liked, but some things, like healing, can’t be rushed. Why they can’t be rushed no one could adequately explain to me, but as long as he got stronger every day, I held off my complaints. Since Micah still needed close contact with his metal in order to complete his healing, our bed had been transformed from the heavenly feather and down confection I so loved into a solid silver couch. It was the most uncomfortable thing I’d ever experienced, more like a torture device disguised as modern art that any sort of bed, far worse than even a corset could be.

And every night I gladly laid myself down on that metal monstrosity, because it meant I was lying next to Micah.

As much as I complained about the slow healing process, it only took six days of sleeping on metal before Micah proclaimed that his silver was fully restored. We then started taking daily walks, ranging a bit further each day until Micah could walk to the orchards and back without tiring. Then he started getting frisky again, chasing me around the orchards, leaping out from behind trees to capture me, weaving flower crowns as apologies for knocking me to the ground. It was as sure a sign as any that my Micah was going to be okay.

One morning, after a late-night swim in the Clear Pool, I awoke alone. We’d gone back to sleeping in the real bed, which was so deep and luxurious that I slept late more often than not. On this morning, not only had Micah risen first, the silverkin were waiting for me.

“What’s up?” I asked Shep. He chirruped and waved his hands, then quickly ushered me downstairs. I found my family lounging around the atrium, wearing their Sunday best along with a few smug grins. When I asked what was going on, they refused to answer and practically ordered me to have breakfast with Micah. Being that I was sore, sleepy, and starving, I took their advice.

My pajama-clad self shuffled into the dining hall, where a lavish meal was set out on the long table. At the head of the table stood Micah, resplendently attired in the silver coat and black breeches he’d worn for our audience with the Gold Queen. He’d taken to wearing his sword again, and the sight of him made my mouth water almost as much as the food did.

“What’s all this for?” I asked.

Instead of answering, Micah pushed three copper pennies, each now brightly polished, toward me. “Make me a ring.” I stared at the pennies for a few moments, wondering why he had such a dire need for jewelry before we’d even had breakfast, when I all but lost my breath. “Today?”

“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” he replied. I took that last step toward him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“No. Today is perfect.”

And it was. We went to the chapel where Mom and Dad had been married, which, like so many other religious institutions, had been converted to a Hall of Records. Micah had thought to glamour the lot of us (unfortunately, he did not make Max into Maxine again), so the drones just passed obliviously overhead.

After we’d spoken to the Peacekeeper on duty, a stiff little man called Corporal Rawson, and filled out the required forms, the ceremony got underway. My official paperwork said that I, Sara Evans, was marrying Mike Silver, but I didn’t care what a few scraps of paper said. All I cared about was the man waiting for me at the end of the aisle.

“You ready?” Max asked. In Dad’s absence, he’d agreed to walk me down the aisle, though Sadie had balked when I’d asked her to be my flower girl.

“Yeah,” I replied, tucking my fingers into his elbow.

“Nervous?”

“Nah. I can handle this.” With that, Max squeezed my fingers and led me to Micah.

The Peacekeeper droned on for a bit, mostly about our duty to our government, but I hardly heard him. I don’t think Micah was paying much attention either, since when it came time for the vows, he had to be prompted.

“Have you written your own vows?” the Peacekeeper repeated. Micah blinked, then he nodded.

“I have.” Micah took my hands. “My Sara, my love. You are my reason for waking, for breathing, for being. From the first moment I saw you, you have intrigued me, infuriated me, enthralled me. You are mine, my Sara, for now and always.” He caressed my cheek, and then he pressed his lips to mine. “Always.”