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[Eclyse Christian]

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“Ugh! I scuffed it!” Eclyse frowned, examining the offending imperfection as she sat polishing the new blade Kaylor had given her.

Kay chuckled at her as she fussed, then stepped up to the back of her chair to look over her shoulder. “They were daemons, My Queen. They’re not made of fluff.” He pushed her long dark hair aside and unlaced her gorget. “And this needs repair as well.”

Eclyse flinched at the term of endearment, but tilted her head to allow him access to the gorget. The movement did not go unnoticed, and Kay smiled as he leaned down to kiss the newly-exposed flesh of her neck as he tossed the gorget onto the table. “You are my queen, you know. The truth of it is unavoidable. I swear fealty here. And here my loyalty lies. But I cannot change that I am king there. Any more than you can deny that you are queen. All you lack is the crown.”

Eclyse’s green eyes grew wide, and her cheeks flushed with the notion. “But I’m not e’en of your realm, Kay. How can I—“

Kaylor laughed at her flustered expression and frantic argument, then he rounded the chair to stand in front of her. Gently, he kissed her forehead, then he lifted her chin and locked his midnight gaze with hers. “You are my wife. And as such, Queen of Faerwhynne. Simple fact. It requires no more changes in you than I make to serve the Wolf King. Your loyalty is still as entrenched in Stonegate as mine. I’m not asking you to change a thing.”

Eclyse sighed, looking relieved, and lifted her chalice from the table, gulping the warm, mulled wine.

“Except of course that you’ll have to be crowned,” added Kaylor swiftly and nonchalantly. “I’ve sent word to begin preparations for your coronation. The people want to meet you, after all.”

Eclyse sputtered, mid-swallow, and dropped the chalice, coughing as the wine spilled across the green marble floor. Through the gasping and choking, she managed a muffled “Bloody ‘Ell…”

Kaylor knelt beside her, attending her recovery even as she hastened to clean up the wine. “Careful, My Queen,” he quipped with a mischievous grin. "Those precious lips which sputter wine today may greet a new country on the morrow. For now, however, they have a much dearer purpose." With that, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that incinerated her anxiety, burning all thoughts of crowns, queens, and ceremony to the ground.