POV: Ravenna
I'm not blind.
I mean, I'm OBLIVIOUS about a lot of things—social cues, proper etiquette, when to shut up before I make situations worse. But I'm not blind about this.
Morgana and Saren are completely, utterly, desperately in love with each other.
It's obvious in the way they orbit each other. The way Morgana's eyes track Saren across any room. The way Saren lights up when Morgana laughs. The way they're ALWAYS together—training together, eating together, sleeping in the same guest house despite having separate rooms available.
The way they look at each other like the rest of the world could burn and they wouldn't notice because they're too busy existing in their own perfect bubble.
It's sickeningly sweet.
I love it.
"You're staring," Theron says quietly beside me.
We're in the village hall eating dinner. Across the room, Morgana and Saren sit together, heads bent close, talking in that intense way people do when words matter less than just BEING near each other.
"I'm observing," I correct.
"You're staring."
"Fine. I'm staring. Because LOOK at them." I gesture with my fork. "They're so—so—"
"In love?"
"DISGUSTINGLY in love. It's like watching two people discover fire for the first time. All wonder and awe and forgetting that fire BURNS."
Theron raises an eyebrow. "That's very poetic coming from someone who literally controls fire."
"Shut up. You know what I mean."
He does. Because he's watching them too. And there's something wistful in his expression. Something that says he understands the miracle of finding someone who SEES you. Who chooses you despite everything.
"Do you think their dragons will recognize the bond?" I ask quietly. "Officially?"
"Does it matter?" Theron's voice is thoughtful. "They've chosen each other. That's more real than any instinctual recognition."
"But the bond—"
"The bond is magic. Love is choice." He looks at me. "We have both. But if I had to pick one, I'd pick the choice every time. Because magic happens TO you. Choice is something you DO."
Gods, why does he have to be so WISE about things?
***
The next afternoon, Morgana finds me in the healing garden where I'm practicing on wilted plants. She sits beside me on the stone bench without saying anything. Just SITS there. Radiating nervous energy.
I wait. Because Morgana will talk when she's ready. Pushing her just makes her stubborn.
Finally, she says, "I think Saren might be my bonded mate."
I set down the flower I'm healing. Turn to look at her. "Oh?"
"I know our dragons haven't formally recognized each other. Haven't done the whole—" she waves her hand "—forehead touching, souls intertwining, dramatic recognition thing. But Rav, the CONNECTION. It's so deep. So CERTAIN. Like he's part of me now and I can't remember what it felt like before him."
"That sounds like a bond to me."
"But what if it's NOT?" Her voice cracks slightly. "What if I'm just—caught up in the danger and proximity? What if when we get back to normal life, this feeling FADES and I realize I was just scared and he was just there?"
I take her hands. "Morgana. Look at me."
She does. Those warm brown eyes full of fear and hope tangled together.
"Do you love him?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Do you trust him completely?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to build a life with him? Fight beside him? Wake up annoying him for the rest of your existence?"
"YES." No hesitation. Absolute certainty.
"Then it's real." I squeeze her hands. "Real love doesn't require dragon recognition to be valid. You and Saren CHOOSE each other every single day. You fight beside each other. You trust completely. You SEE each other—really SEE each other—and stay anyway." I pause. "That's more real than any instinctual bond. Because bonds HAPPEN to you. But choosing someone every day despite fear and doubt and uncertainty? That's love."
She's crying now. Trying not to. Failing. "You think so?"
"I know so." I pull her into a hug. "You two are so in love it's actually nauseating to watch. But in the best way. In the way that makes me believe love is possible even when the world is burning."
She laughs wetly against my shoulder. "You're such a disaster at feelings."
"I know. But I'm right about this."
She pulls back. Wipes her eyes. "There's something else."
"What?"
"If—WHEN—we get back to Cindravale. If Saren proposes. Or if I propose to him because why should HE get to be the romantic one?" She takes a breath. "Do you think your father would approve? Me marrying Saren? Lady-in-waiting to water kingdom guard?"
I blink. Then LAUGH. Actually laugh. "Morgana. We have survived assassination attempts, escaped military coups, fled across kingdoms, lived in a hidden village of gift-bearers while being hunted by a secret organization. And you're worried about CONVENTIONAL APPROVAL?"
"Well when you put it like that—"
"If you want to marry Saren, MARRY SAREN. Father's approval seems kind of irrelevant after everything." I pause. "Also, Father is so desperate to have me alive and safe that he'd probably approve anything at this point. You could marry a dragon and he'd just be grateful I have supportive friends."
She snorts. "That's fair."
"Besides." I lean back against the bench. "Saren is family. He's protected me since I was nine years old. He chose Cindravale over Aetherwyn. He stayed with us through everything." I look at her. "If you marry him, it's not water kingdom guard marrying lady-in-waiting. It's my family marrying my BEST FRIEND. That's—that's perfect, actually."
"You mean that?"
"Every word." I mean it so much it hurts. "You two deserve happiness. Deserve a future. Deserve to build something good after all the terrible we've survived."
Morgana is quiet for a long moment. Then she says, "I'm going to propose to him."
"What?"
"When we get back to Cindravale. After everything settles. After we stop the Eclipse and fix the political disaster." She lifts her chin. That STUBBORN set to her jaw that means she's made a decision and nothing will change her mind. "I'm going to propose to Saren. Because you're right—why should HE get to be the romantic one? I can romance him just as well."
"This I have to see."
"You'll be there. Obviously. You're going to help me plan it." She grins. Fierce and bright. "We're going to make it perfect. Probably on a beach somewhere in Aetherwyn where the water meets fire kingdom lands. Symbolic. Beautiful. Completely over-the-top."
"That sounds exactly like something you would do."
"Damn right it does."
We sit there for a moment. Two women who found friendship in a broken castle. Who survived everything together. Who are planning futures now instead of just survival.
"I'm happy for you," I say quietly. "You and Saren. You deserve this."
"We ALL deserve this." Morgana bumps my shoulder with hers. "You and Theron. Me and Saren. Happiness. Safety. Futures. The Eclipse doesn't get to take that from us."
"No," I agree. "They don't."
***
That evening, I watch Morgana and Saren during dinner. Watch how she touches his hand. How he smiles at her with his whole face. How they exist in that perfect bubble of two people who found each other against impossible odds.
Theron leans close. "She told you."
"How did you—"
"Saren told me. Apparently he's been carrying his mother's ring for weeks. Planning the perfect proposal moment." Theron's voice is warm with amusement. "Morgana is going to beat him to it."
"Good." I lean against him. "They both deserve to choose each other first."
"They do." He pauses. "We all do."
I watch my best friend fall more in love with the man who became my brother. Watch them build something beautiful from all the terrible. Watch them CHOOSE each other despite every reason to be afraid.
And I think maybe—MAYBE—we're going to survive this after all.
Not just physically. But with our hearts intact. With love preserved instead of destroyed. With futures possible instead of just survival.
The Eclipse wanted to destroy us. Wanted to make us afraid. Wanted to eliminate anything that gave hope.
But they're losing.
Because we're here. We're alive. We're building families and finding love and planning proposals and LIVING instead of just surviving.
And that's the best revenge possible.
Existing. Thriving. Loving each other fiercely despite everything trying to kill us. Take THAT, Seris.