The Beastkeeper's Bride

8: An Eternal Oath

8: An Eternal Oath

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His bride tugged adamantly on shirt sleeve and dug her heels into the pavement. They were in the side street beside the townhouse of Addilyn Holt where he had temporarily tethered his mount, and the foot traffic was considerably less in this narrow lane away from the main street adjacent. Blayne turned to her, wondering what she was about.

There was an appeal on her features, her ice blue eyes almost burning with a desperate query.

"Millie, I can imagine how frustrated you must be, but I cannot make assumptions to what you want," he told her gently. Between them, they had much to figure out and very little time to do it. His foremost priority was getting her to a priestess to verify their oaths and the markings of Draë, and Addilyn Holt had been correct in her advice that it should be completed in due haste. Their union would need to be submitted to a human court for approval and recognition, and that could take weeks to process.

Even if the divine markings declared their union, the human legal system would insist their joining illegal until the documentation held the royal seal. It didn't matter that Blayne knew in every fibre of his being that his life would be connected to Millie's until only his death rendered them apart, such magic was not recognised yet in this world, and her cousin was intent to ensure that it never was.

At the thought of his encounter with the man, he felt himself bristle with anger once more. He cared naught for Millie's claim to her title or her inheritance- but this was her battle and he had been intrinsically bound to it by forces incomprehensible to even his mind.

Though he had been compelled to wash his hands of her and the ridiculous document that avowed he would be a mere piece in the conflict between her and Theobald Adams, Blayne knew he would stand by her now, though these matters they would discuss when haste was not an urgency and time was more on their side.

Presently, Millie scowled with self-deprecating frustration, a furious little marring casing her brow and she stamped her feet petulantly. The childish action almost made him smile but he held it back, sure that she wouldn't view his amusement fondly. Instead, he leaned down, bringing his face close to hers, and touched her arm gently. "Try explain to me what it is you want, and quickly," he urged with a note of patience in his voice. "Show me."

She expelled a trying breath, frowning up at him, before nodding with determination. Her face scrunched for a moment as she pondered and he rather enjoyed observing the curious fluctuations over her countenance once more, recalling how quickly she was able to mask her feelings under an exterior of austere aloofness should she desire it.

Suddenly, she reached into his hair, finding a loose lock behind his ear and bringing it forward so that it draped over his shoulder. This she tugged gently, emphatically, her eyes wide and imploring, before she released him and proceeded to make a snipping gesture with her fore and middle fingers.

Scissors? "You wish to cut my hair?" he asked incredulously. "Do you have means and time to be so concerned with appearance right now?"

She gave him an impossibly droll look then.

"What then?" he demanded.

Millie touched her throat and her mouth, then made the snipping gesture again.

Gods help him... he was well versed in exercising patience, handling even the most vicious and wild beasts with utmost attention and care, but this... "You lost your voice and you want... hair?" he clarified sceptically.