The formal ritual of acknowledgement of the Wyld was performed at dawn. Shendla saw to it in her usual perfunctory manner, with no wasted word or gesture. It seemed the whole nation had turned up to attend the festivities; the palace's courtyard was bursting with people, most of them former slaves, but Sharans of all origins and statuses filled the streets of the Capital as well.

Bao and Neya would be married soon, in the gardens. It was spring, and they couldn't have hoped for a more beautiful setting, in Kal's estimation. Not that it mattered much to him. This was all a grievous mistake, as far as he was concerned.

Neya was getting ready in Taimaka's room, with Torn and himself to assist. Taimaka was doing Neya's hair; it had to be something practical that would accommodate for the crown she would have to wear after the coronation, which would take place later in the afternoon.

"Are you sure about this?" Kal asked her for the umpteenth time. It didn't matter to him that Bao had accomplished all the prophecies, not since Neya had revealed who he truly was, just a few days after they returned from the Hearttomb. One of the Shadowsouled could not be the Wyld. Kal had known something was off about the man, but this was worse than he had anticipated. Demandred was walking among them and ruling over Shara. He was planning to have them fight for him at the Last Battle. For the Shadow. Kal wanted to go to Galbrait, to urge her to have him removed somehow. Against several hundred Ayyad, surely Bao wouldn't stand a chance, even with the relic he'd acquired in Rai'lair. But Neya had convinced him not to. How could she stand to be so close to the Shadowsouled? To actually share his bed? It was beyond him. Kal found it difficult to even be in the same room with him. If this whole wedding business was part of a bigger plan, Neya hadn't informed him of it yet.

Neya exhaled sharply. "Light, Kal! Yes, I'm sure. Stop fretting, I'm nervous enough as it is," she told him accusingly.

"Not for the same reasons, I'll wager," Torn cut in slyly. He seemed as unconcerned as Neya.

Didn't they realise what was at stake here? They couldn't possibly be Darkfriends, not them. Kal was almost certain of that. Almost. "You're insane," he muttered darkly. "Both of you."

"Don't be like that," Taimaka scolded him. "It's her wedding day! You should be happy for her."

He stared at her in disbelief. "Happy? She's about to marry Demandred, for crying out loud! The man who is going to destroy us all! How is that something to be happy about?" Light, they were all mad! Had the Shadowsouled poisoned their minds with the Power?

Taimaka shrugged lightly. "The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills. There's more to people than what the eye can see."

Kal shook his head. "If you think marrying him will change him, change what he is, you're wrong, ina. I see that you love him, or you think you do, but this is madness. He certainly doesn't love you back. The likes of him are beyond saving, beyond redemption. He will lead us to our doom and you, more than anyone else, will suffer from it." He hated to be so harsh to her – he had come to consider Neya as a friend, if not quite as a surrogate mother, like some of the younger male Ayyad – but someone had to make her see sense. Better to be hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie, as the saying went, especially if that lie meant their lives, and possibly the fate of the world itself.

Neya turned to look at him, outwardly cool and collected, despite her earlier claim that she felt nervous. "I know all that, Kal. Believe me, I do. But what would you have me do? Kill him in his sleep, when he's vulnerable, now that I have his trust? You think it never occurred to me that I could do it, and how easy it would be? How many lives I could potentially save with one swift stroke?"

As a matter of fact, he had no idea she'd even considered it. Light, he kept underestimating her, even after all this time. It made it all so much worse. "Neya–"

"If you think you can do it, then do it," she told him earnestly. "I won't blame you. I will hate you for it, Light help me, but I won't blame you. But I couldn't. Not now, not ever. I know it will all end it tears. I know he's doomed, no matter the conclusion. And I know there will be casualties, although I intend to make sure there are as few as possible. I will deal with my own share of responsibility once we receive the butcher's bill. I haven't given up on the world, however. I'm not ready to do that just yet."

What could he say to that? He hadn't realised she was so conflicted about the man.

"You don't have to attend the ceremony," Neya went on. "You don't even have to be here. I told you that before, Kal. You're free to go. You could have left days ago, when I told you who he really was."

"And yet I didn't. Where would I go, anyway?" he said wistfully. "No. We're all in this together. We follow the madman, and we'll do what we can to stir him on the right path, I suppose. Whatever happens, we live or die together."

"We live or die together," the future queen repeated softly.

The wedding ceremony was done in the House of Kongsidi, a small temple built within the confines of the Royal Gardens. It involved very little religious nonsense, thankfully. To Neya's delight, Mintel had offered to perform the ceremony himself. The old man was beaming so much he had trouble keeping track of his words. When he was done with his part, Mintel asked Neya if she wanted to add a few words. Taimaka had explained that it was customary for the bride and groom to come up with the marital vows in their own words, so Neya had been working on a little speech. She was incredibly nervous at having to speak in front of so many people; she'd never had to do anything quite like this before.

"Bao, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad that you brought me to this blasted, Light-forsaken land after all," she began after Power-enhancing her voice to carry to the end of the hall. That elicited some laughs. "I will ever look after you and care for you, as best I can," she went on more seriously. "I will always keep your best interests at heart and do whatever is in my power to make your life as happy as possible. I will always love you, and only death will part us. Or it won't, depending on your belief regarding the afterlife," she amended. The Sharans were divided on the matter. "But before that happens, I vow to make you choke with laughter." The assembled crowd exploded with mirth, which resonated inside the temple, and applauded with enthusiasm. Neya wasn't done, however. "This I swear, under the Light and by my hope of salvation and rebirth." She fixed her eyes on Bao as she spoke. He looked slightly startled by those last words, although she doubted anyone else noticed. There was no oath stronger than this one, for one who walked in the Light – or thought they did.

Bao patiently waited for the cheering to subside. "I shall ever protect and shield you from harm. I shall care for you and our children, to the best of my ability." Our children. Did he expect more than one? Neya wondered briefly.

"My heart belongs to you," he went on, his green eyes boring into hers. He hesitated for a moment. "This I swear, under everything I hold true." She knew very well that he couldn't reciprocate her oath, but this was more than she'd expected from him. Did he truly love her, or was this all part of a much larger ploy? Neya wanted to believe that his feelings for her were genuine, even if this was only another scheme.

He looked so earnest! She felt her heart break a little. My heart belongs to you. Light! She had always made fun of people who cried at weddings but this was… Oh well. Nobody would blame her if she wept. She was pregnant, after all, and pregnant women could afford to appear overly emotional.

"Well, it looks like you've got it all covered," Mintel told them warmly. Neya grinned at him through her tears. "You may kiss him now, if you wish," he added with a grin of his own.

"Kiss him?" she repeated with mock horror, wiping at her eyes. "Peace, no one said anything about that!" Laughter broke once more amongst their guests. Bao didn't wait for it to die down before kissing her, however. She didn't think they were supposed to kiss like that, either.

"Alright, alright, you don't have to consummate the marriage on the altar, my friend!" Torn called out mirthfully.

Everyone cheered as they left the gardens to join the female Ayyad in their own building, where the coronation would take place. Neya still had trouble getting her head around it. She, a flaming queen! Of Shara, of all places! It was a fine joke. Mat will roll on the floor with laughter when he finds out, she thought wryly. If I ever see him again, she amended sadly.

Galbrait herself placed the crowns on their heads. They were magnificent, both made of a light, polished metal and woven in intricate patterns. Bao's represented complicated symbols associated with the Wyld that matched the tattoos on his hands. Her tiara was a maze of exotic flowers. There were tiny scintillating gems of various colours incrusted in it.

This ceremony lasted a lot longer than the others, and Neya distinctly heard several people yawn. She had to repress the urge herself. Bao endured the seemingly endless flow of words stoically, as usual. Galbrait was droning on in isleh, too fast for Neya to follow; she soon found her attention wavering and her mind wandering.

Neya had talked to Shendla before the festivities began, mainly to inquire about the formalities of the different ceremonies, but also to submit a theory to the older woman. A Worm, in isleh, was called a wyrm. In the Old Tongue, wyrm was a word for dragon, although admittedly not the best known one – aman had been more commonly used. Still, it got her wondering. Could Bao have become the Wyld after slaying the jumara, the Dragon of Rai'lair? Shendla had studied her for a long moment, looking thoughtful. "I hadn't considered that," she admitted eventually. "Perhaps you are right. Only time will tell, I suppose." She'd made a dismissive gesture, as if it didn't matter at all. Neya had felt a little disappointed. She had been quite excited when she'd figured it out. Perhaps she should broach the subject with Bao himself – my husband, she thought giddily – although she suspected it wouldn't change anything, even if he embraced the idea. He wanted Lews Therin dead; nothing would change that.

They were in the bathtub now, soaking in the blissfully warm water after a long, exhausting day – that had been followed by an equally long wedding night. How odd, Neya mused. She had never given marriage a second thought before, and now she was married to one of the Forsaken, to Demandred himself, and queen of a land she had discovered only a few months past. She was going to be a mother. What strange places the Pattern could carry us to, what mysterious twists life could take.