June 2: in search of me, feat. Lady Keladry of Mindelan
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"You look beautiful," Kel congratulated Lady Yukimi of Queenscove, embracing the plump Yamani woman. Yuki allowed not only the hug but also for her expression to clearly reveal her happiness: with her dark hair set off by a white veil and her cheeks flushed from her first dance as a married woman, she looked more beautiful than she had ever appeared when coyly peeking out from behind a shukusen.
"And look at you, Neal," Merric interjected; "you look almost grown up."
Kel gave Neal, looking only a little uncomfortable in a gold-trimmed wine-red tunic and stiff white shirt, a wry grin. "You do look very handsome."
"With your help," he reminded her. "Mithros, before the wedding it was almost as if we were pages again, with you fussing over my collar and such."
Remembering the small fevers she used to experience at such close proximity to her older friend, Kel bit her lip to keep from grinning too widely. "Yes," she answered, "very much the same."
The opening chords of a slow, lingering melody drifted over to them, and Neal offered Kel his hand. "Would you do me the honor of a dance, Keladry?" She took it without thinking, although she was startled; she had assumed that he would spend at least the first five dances with his wife.
As Merric and Yuki, discussing the difference between spring in the Yamani Isles and Tortall, ambled to their seats, Neal clasped Kel to him. For a few moments they simply swayed to the pleasant music. Presently he asked, "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Very much," she answered with a smile. "It was a lovely ceremony."
"That it was," he agreed, "even if Yuki's parents had to have their say in certain matters." They shared a laugh. "At any rate, the palace wedding planner must be trembling with excitement, what with all of the mid-war ceremonies sprouting up. Already it's been Lord Raoul in the autumn, Yuki and me in the spring. . . ." He raised his winged brows at her. "Could summer nuptials be far off?"
Kel playfully smacked his shoulder. "Don't count on it."
"Are you sure?" he pressed. "Because I've seen the way you laugh and talk with Dom." He lifted his hand, and Kel turned to see the sergeant, lounged in a seat beside the newlyweds Raoul and Buri, return the greeting. She waved, too, and was rewarded with that charming grin.
Neal waggled his brows a little. "I'll bet that Lalasa has the perfect dark blue cloth to make a dashing wedding coat."
Kel tilted her head to the side to regard him, and she laughed. "Look at you; those matchmaking mothers who so frightened Lord Raoul would be proud. No, Neal. I don't know about Dom, or anyone for that matter – not yet. I'm . . . what do you want to call it." She made a face. "In search of me."
"That's my girl," Neal murmured with a proud grin. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Kel."
She smiled slightly and tightened her arms around his shoulders. "I love you too, Meathead."
"No, I'm serious," he protested, albeit with a small laugh; it seemed that not even his dreaded nickname could deter him from enjoying his wedding. "I want to say thank you, for everything."
Kel wondered why tears pricked her eyes; if asked, she would claim that it was from this peculiar role reversal of Neal being serious for once. "You're welcome," she replied around a strangely tight throat.
The last chords of the music faded as the minstrels stilled their instruments. The two slowed as well. Now was the time for Neal to return to his wife. "Just a moment … ?" Kel asked quietly, surprised that she couldn't properly form the question.
His green eyes were warm and gentle. "Of course. Anything for you, Lady Knight." They remained standing in the middle of the room a few moments longer before Neal lightly squeezed her shoulders; this time, with a smile, she let him go. However far her literal and emotional travels took her, she would always carry her piece of him, however small.
