L. Modesitt: Arms-Commander

She managed to hold a pleasant smile, even though the love and adoration in his expression washed over her, and she swallowed.

Once he stood on the dais, and they both faced those in the hall, she nodded to him, and they turned sideways, so that they faced each other.

A young guard stepped forward with a small green pillow on which rested two matching gold rings, each set with a square emerald.

Saryn turned slightly and took the larger ring, holding it high for a moment before lowering it and facing Dealdron directly once more. “As a token of my faith, with this ring, I ask for your hand, pledging both my hand and my honor.”

Dealdron extended his left hand, and Saryn slid the ring in place, adding so quietly that only he could hear, “and my appreciation and affection for all that you have endured and all that you have offered.”

She could sense…something…a feeling that was not only love, but a hope and a belief on his part that she would find love with him. And he just might be right.

In turn, Dealdron lifted the smaller ring from the pillow, and Saryn extended her hand. His words were deep and warm as he said, “With this ring, I give you my hand, and all that I have.” After he eased the ring onto her finger, his hand tightened around hers but for an instant as he murmured, “For you are and always have been my angel.”

Saryn barely managed not to swallow, although her eyes burned for a moment, before she recalled the formal close to the ceremony. “Two hands promised in honor and for the future of Lornth.”

“For the future of Lornth!” chorused the assembled guards, holders, and consorts.

She reached out and again took her consort’s hand.