We came back to the Obsidian Spire just as the sun was going down. The sky was filled with soft shades of orange and pink, and the air felt warm and peaceful. We had spent the whole day at Yome's wedding, laughing, dancing, and sharing good food with people we loved. But now, as we walked into the quiet family garden, a gentle tiredness began to settle over all of us.
Little Himel had almost fallen asleep in my arms. His small head rested softly on my shoulder, and his tiny fingers were curled loosely into my shirt. The rest of us still smelled faintly of the wedding — flowers, sweet incense, and a hint of wine that clung to our clothes like a happy memory.
Vanisha stretched her arms above her head and smiled. "Yome looked so happy today," she said warmly. "And his bride was absolutely beautiful, wasn't she?"
Aerika nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. There was a soft, faraway look in her eyes. "The way those two looked at each other," she said quietly, "it felt like watching something brand new begin. Something hopeful." She smiled. "I'm really glad we were there to see it."
Lyla walked close beside me. Her hand lightly touched mine as we moved along the garden path — not quite holding on, just there, gentle and steady, the way she always was. "It really was lovely," she said. "The music, the lights, the way everyone just danced and forgot about everything else." She glanced at me and smiled a little. "I haven't been to a wedding like that in a long, long time."
Saarna walked just behind us. She was quiet, the way she usually was, but there was a warmth in her face that the day had put there. "Watching them," she said softly, almost to herself, "makes you think about your own life. About the things you're still hoping for."
Nobody added anything to that. We just walked, letting her words float quietly among us.
When we reached the garden table, the servants had already set everything out. There were small snacks, fresh fruit, and a pot of hot tea sending soft curls of steam into the evening air. The little lanterns along the path were lit, giving everything a warm, golden glow.
We all sat down. Himel, who had been half asleep, woke up just enough to climb out of my arms and crawl into Aerika's lap. He blinked slowly, let out a huge yawn, and curled up against her like a sleepy little cat.
Aaswa was the last one to sit. He poured himself some tea but didn't drink it. He just held the cup and stared at the table for a moment, like someone who had been thinking about something all day and had finally decided the time was right.
Then he looked up at me.
"Mirel," he said. "Brother." His voice was calm, but softer than usual. Quieter. "There's something I've been wanting to say. I've been holding it in all day."
Everyone looked at him. The garden went still.
Aaswa set his cup down slowly. "I've made up my mind," he said. "I'm going to marry Saarna. And I don't want to wait. I want it to happen soon."
For just a moment, everything was silent.
Then the whole garden came alive.
Vanisha pressed her hands to her face, her eyes wide and shining. "Oh!" she gasped. "That is such wonderful news!"
Aerika burst into a big, happy grin and clapped her hands together. "Finally!" she laughed. "We have all been waiting so long for this!"
Lyla reached over and took Saarna's hand, holding it warmly between both of hers. "Congratulations," she said, her voice full of genuine feeling. "You both deserve to be this happy."
Saarna looked over at Aaswa. She didn't say anything right away. But her calm face slowly broke into the most beautiful smile, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside and lights up everything around it.
And then Himel, who had somehow gone from half asleep to fully awake in the space of two seconds, sat straight up in Aerika's lap with wide, very serious eyes.
"Uncle Aaswa is getting married?!" he said loudly.
Then he clasped his little hands together and looked at Aaswa with the most hopeful face in the world.
"Can I be the ring boy? Please?"
Saarna's cheeks flushed a deep, pretty pink. She tried to look composed, the way she usually did, but the smile on her face was stronger than she was. She looked at Aaswa with open, unguarded affection — the kind she rarely showed in front of others.
"You really mean it?" she asked softly.
Aaswa reached across the table and took her hand in his. He held it gently but without any hesitation, the way a person holds something they have already decided they will never let go of.
"I do," he said simply. "I've waited long enough. I want you by my side — officially. For good."
I laughed, and it came out warm and easy, because the feeling in my chest was exactly that — warm and easy, the kind of happiness that doesn't make any noise but fills up every corner of you anyway. "Then it's settled," I said, looking around at all of them. "We are going to make this the celebration of the year."
The mood in the garden shifted immediately. One moment it had been peaceful and still. The next, it was buzzing with excited energy, like a flame that had just been given more air.
Vanisha was on her feet before anyone else. She had that look on her face — bright eyes, quick mind, already ten steps ahead of everyone else in the room. "Well," she said, clapping her hands together, "if there is going to be another wedding, then we are starting to plan right now. Tonight." She pointed firmly at no one in particular. "And clothes come first. Nobody is getting married in ordinary robes. Absolutely not."
Aerika jumped up right beside her, already moving. "Yes! The royal tailor's wing — we have to go. They have the most incredible fabrics there, and the magical designs are unlike anything you can find anywhere else." She turned around and waved at all of us like she was leading a small parade. "Come on, everyone. Let's go!"
Himel, who had been quietly listening with his chin resting on his hands, suddenly came to life. He slid off Aerika's lap and threw both arms up. "Clothes! I want to help choose! I'm very good at choosing!"
Nobody doubted him.
Before I could say a single word — or even think about whether I wanted to protest — we were all moving. Swept along by the energy of the moment, through the garden gate, down the lantern-lit corridor, and toward the palace's grand tailoring halls.
The royal tailor's chambers were something else entirely.
You could walk through that door a hundred times and still feel a little surprised by what was inside. The rooms were long and high-ceilinged, and they were filled with magic in the most quiet, wonderful way. Bolts of enchanted silk floated in the air on their own, turning slowly like they were waiting to be chosen. Threads of gold and silver and deep jewel tones caught the light and glowed softly. There were spools of thread that changed color depending on the emotion of the person holding them — calm people got deep blues and soft greens, excited ones got bright golds and warm reds. And the mirrors didn't just show you how you looked right now. They shifted the light, showing you how the fabric would appear at noon, at dusk, under starlight, in a grand hall full of candles.
It was, in every sense, a room made for celebration.
The head tailor, an elderly elf named Elandor, was already crossing the room toward us before we had fully stepped inside. He moved with the quiet dignity of someone who had dressed kings and queens for longer than most people had been alive. He bowed deeply, his silver hair falling forward over his shoulders.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice warm and refined. "What a genuine honor. How may I be of service to you this evening?"
Aaswa stepped forward. For all his confidence and steady presence, there was something almost endearingly awkward about him in that moment — like a man who could face a battlefield without blinking but wasn't entirely sure what to do with a room full of floating fabric.
"We need wedding attire," he said. He cleared his throat just slightly. "For me. And for Saarna."
Elandor's eyes lit up instantly. They actually sparkled, the way old eyes sometimes do when they land on something that genuinely delights them.
"Ah," he breathed. "A royal wedding." He pressed his hands together and smiled like someone who had just been given the best possible gift. "Wonderful. Truly wonderful. Then let us begin — with the groom."
He clapped his hands once, sharp and precise.
From somewhere high up near the ceiling, dozens of fabrics came alive. They floated downward in wide, sweeping arcs, swirling around Aaswa like colorful clouds that couldn't quite decide where to settle. Deep crimson silk that caught the light like a slow-burning ember. Midnight black threaded through with fine silver that glimmered like stars on still water. Rich emerald green that shifted and shimmered as it moved, the way light moves through forest leaves on a bright morning.
Aaswa stood very still in the middle of it all, looking like a man trying hard to remain dignified while being attacked by beautiful cloth.
Elandor selected the first option with practiced ease and held it up with both hands. It was a formal coat — deep black, structured and sharp, with golden dragon embroidery running along the collar and down both sleeves. Every stitch was perfect. The dragons seemed almost alive, their tiny golden scales catching the light every time the fabric moved.
Aaswa put it on.
He did look impressive. There was no question about that. The coat fit well across his shoulders, and the gold against the black gave him a powerful, serious kind of elegance.
He turned slowly to face the rest of us.
Himel stared at him for exactly two seconds.
Himel pointed straight at Aaswa with absolutely no hesitation and declared, at full volume, "You look like a grumpy dragon, Uncle Aaswa!"
The room rippled with laughter.
Aaswa looked down at himself, then back at Himel with one eyebrow slowly raised. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
Himel thought about it for a moment, then shrugged cheerfully, as if the answer didn't really matter either way.
Vanisha pressed her lips together to hold back her smile, but it broke through anyway. "He's not entirely wrong," she admitted, tilting her head to study the coat. "It's a little too serious. It makes you look like you're about to declare war on someone, not marry them. Try something lighter."
Elandor, who had clearly seen this kind of thing many times before and was completely untroubled by it, whisked the coat away and replaced it almost instantly with a deep blue robe. The sleeves were long and flowing, the fabric smooth and rich, and it draped around Aaswa in a way that was undeniably graceful.
Aerika tilted her head to one side, studying him carefully. She pressed two fingers to her chin the way she always did when she was thinking something through. "It's elegant," she said slowly. "But it's too formal. You look like you're on your way to sit at a council table and discuss tax records. Not your own wedding."
A few people laughed. Aaswa sighed patiently.
Saarna, who had been watching quietly with her hands folded in her lap, spoke up in her gentle way. "I do like the blue," she said thoughtfully. "But maybe if there were more white accents? Something a little softer around the edges?"
They kept going. Elandor moved without complaint or rush, pulling one fabric after another from the floating collection above, draping and adjusting and stepping back to let everyone have their opinions. Some outfits were almost right. Some were nowhere close. Each one came with its own round of commentary, laughter, and debate.
And then the gold one appeared.
It was bright. Very bright. The kind of gold that did not whisper — it announced itself loudly and without apology to every corner of the room.
Aaswa put it on mostly for fun, with the calm expression of a man who already knew what was coming.
He looked like a walking sun. A very dignified, slightly uncomfortable walking sun.
Himel froze for one full second, staring with wide eyes. Then he shot to his feet, pointed with his whole arm, and shouted with pure joy, "You're a shiny banana!"
The room completely fell apart.
Even Aaswa could not hold onto his straight face. A grin crept onto it slowly, the reluctant kind that comes when something is genuinely funny and there is simply no stopping it. "Alright," he said, already pulling the coat off. "Not the gold. We all agree. Moving on."
It was Lyla who finally changed the direction of things.
She had been standing slightly apart from the others, the way she often did — watching, listening, taking everything in with those quiet, thoughtful eyes. But now she stepped forward, a little shyly, and pointed to a fabric that had been floating near the back of the room almost unnoticed. It was a deep, calm silver, and running through it were the finest threads of light, so delicate they were almost invisible until the fabric moved — and then they shimmered like a sky full of distant stars.
"What about this one?" she said softly. She glanced at Aaswa. "It feels strong, but gentle at the same time." A small pause. "Like you."
The room was quiet for just a moment.
Elandor took the fabric with great care and helped Aaswa into it.
The moment it settled onto his shoulders, something changed. The fabric shifted slightly on its own, the way enchanted cloth does when it finds the person it belongs to, adjusting perfectly to the lines of his frame. The star threads caught the light and glimmered softly, like embers that had cooled to silver.
Saarna looked at him. Her eyes, which were always steady and calm, went soft in a way that was entirely different from her usual composure. It was the softness of someone seeing exactly what they had been hoping for.
"That's the one," she whispered.
Aaswa looked at her looking at him. "I agree," he said quietly.
And that was settled.
Now it was Saarna's turn.
The fabrics came alive again, swirling around her in wide, colorful arcs like a gentle, beautiful storm. Saarna stood in the middle of it all with her usual quiet patience, letting Elandor guide the process while the rest of us watched and waited with far too many opinions ready.
The first option was a flowing white gown, clean and simple and undeniably elegant. Saarna stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself thoughtfully.
Aerika shook her head before anyone else could speak. "No," she said, not unkindly. "It's too plain for you. You are a warrior and a bride. This gown doesn't know that."
The white was set aside.
The next one was deep red with gold embroidery stitched along the hem and sleeves in sweeping, intricate patterns. Saarna stepped out in it and the whole room went a little quiet, because she did look stunning — there was no other word for it. The red brought out the warmth in her skin and the gold caught the light beautifully.
But Vanisha, who had an eye for these things, tilted her head slowly from side to side. "It's beautiful," she said honestly. "Truly. But I think we want something that holds both sides of you. Your strength and your softness together. This shows one, but not quite the other."
Saarna nodded slowly. She had felt it too.
It was Lyla, again, who found the answer.
She pointed to a midnight blue gown near the edge of the floating collection — deep and dark as the sky just after the last light fades, threaded through with silver accents that echoed the star threading in Aaswa's outfit. It was elegant without being stiff. Strong without being harsh. Quiet but completely impossible to overlook.
Saarna put it on.
She stepped out from behind the dressing screen, and the fabric moved with her like dark water shifting under starlight, every small silver thread catching the glow of the lanterns and sending it back out softly.
Himel's mouth fell open. Then he started clapping with his whole body, the way small children do when they are genuinely delighted. "Aunty Saarna looks like a night princess!" he announced proudly.
Saarna laughed and blushed a deep pink, pressing one hand to her cheek. "You really think so?"
Aaswa said nothing for a moment. He just looked at her — really looked at her, the way he rarely let himself do in front of others — and his expression was something calm and full and certain all at once.
"You look perfect," he said.
Saarna's blush deepened. She looked away, still smiling.
After that, the serious part of the evening quietly gave way to something much more cheerful and chaotic.
At some point, Himel discovered a tiny version of Aaswa's original black coat — a sample made for fittings — and put it on without asking anyone. The sleeves came down well past his hands and the hem dragged along the floor behind him, but none of that stopped him. He drew himself up to his full height, puffed out his chest, and strutted across the room with tremendous importance.
"I am the best man," he announced seriously, tripping over a sleeve and nearly falling, then immediately continuing as if nothing had happened.
Nobody could breathe for laughing.
Aerika, never one to miss an opportunity, grabbed a sample gown from a nearby rack — bright, vivid, almost aggressive pink, the kind of color that fills a room the moment it enters — and held it up against herself with a completely straight face.
She turned to Saarna. "What do you think? Too much?"
Vanisha clasped her hands together and adopted her most sincere expression. "It's perfect," she said gravely. "If your goal is to make every single guest go temporarily blind."
Even Lyla, who was usually the quietest one in any room, got swept up in it. She lifted an enormously frilly dress from one of the display stands and held it in front of herself, looking into one of the enchanted mirrors with a perfectly serious expression.
"I think," she said thoughtfully, "that this one makes me look like a walking cake."
The room dissolved into laughter all over again.
We spent nearly two full hours in those halls. Choosing and rejecting, laughing and teasing, going back to things we had already set aside and changing our minds and changing them back again. Elandor moved through all of it with the serene patience of someone who had done this a thousand times and found it just as charming every single time.
By the end, everything was decided.
Aaswa's outfit was the deep silver with the star threading — strong and quiet and entirely right for him. Saarna's was the midnight blue gown that moved like liquid darkness and caught the light like the sky just before dawn.
They were perfect together. Everyone could see it.
As we finally made our way out of the tailoring halls and back through the warmly lit corridors of the palace, the excitement of the evening still hummed in the air around us like the last notes of a song that hadn't quite finished yet.
Aaswa and Saarna walked side by side. Their hands brushed as they moved — not quite holding on, just close, the way two people walk when they are very comfortable with the fact that the other one is there.
"I can't wait," Aaswa said quietly. Just those three words, simple and honest.
Saarna looked up at him, and her whole face was soft and warm and completely unguarded. "Neither can I," she said.
I walked a little behind them and looked at the people around me. Vanisha, still talking about color schemes with cheerful determination. Aerika, carrying a very sleepy Himel on her back, the little boy's arms looped loosely around her neck. Lyla, walking beside me, her shoulder just barely touching mine.
My family. All of them, in one way or another, mine.
A deep and quiet peace moved through me, the kind that doesn't announce itself loudly but simply fills you up from the inside until there is no room left for anything else.
The wedding was going to be beautiful. I already knew that without any doubt.
But somewhere at the back of my mind, beneath all the warmth and the laughter and the happiness of the evening, I was aware — as I always was — that the world beyond these walls had not gone still. There were shadows out there, patient and waiting, the way shadows always are.
But that was out there.
In here, right now, we had this — laughter echoing through lantern-lit halls, love that had finally found the words it had been looking for, and the simple, precious happiness of people planning a future together.
For tonight, that was more than enough.
To be continued…