"I'll be watching the entire time."

"Mmm hmmm."

"So ... No 'funny business'. You go the ceremony, give them pleasantries, and then head directly back here."

"Yeah."

"Then that's it. Everything else - we continue as before. No interruptions to our lives. Is that understood?"

"Vitruvion," her tone was a sigh, coming from behind the folding screen in the corner of the room that she had insisted be set up.

"What?" he demanded back, standing there at the end of the bed, arms folded glaring at the screen.

Her beaked face appeared around the edge. Her deep black eyes, framed in feathers, gazed at him steadily.

"I'm coming back," she said, gently. "You don't have to worry about me not coming back."

He paused, lip curled in distaste of the whole matter. His intense blue eyes stared, even glared at her. Her brow lifted, observing him, daring him to refute her statement before he let out a long sigh. The god relaxed his stance, letting his arms fall beside his lithe, clothed body as he drank in a long breath of air.

"Do you trust me?" she asked quietly. "In this at least?"

"You know I do, my dearest," his voice was soft, warm.

She nodded once, her hand gripping around the edge of the wood, her eyes swimming slowly with warmth. "I promise I will always come back, Vitruvion. It was part of our agreement, and will be until the last day of our existence. I know who and what you are, what you can do." She paused, moving back silently, disappearing from view. Vitruvion visibly tensed, raising a hand and pulling it through his hair.

"Stare."

"I agreed," she murmured, stepping out.

She was dressed in her finest tunic. Black chiffon and wool woven gently, with a border picked out with real silver thread. A corded belt surrounded her waist, With the knot tied at her side. A dagger was slid into the belt, and at her neck hung a string of dark black pearls. On her left wrist was shackled the cuff, woven with chains and holding in it five dim marbles of azure blue. Cupping her hands together she looked at her employer and her god with patient eyes.

"I'm always coming back, Vitruvion," she repeated. "As I promised, as you wanted, I am yours."

He let out a long slow breath. His heart thudded solidly as he took a step forwards, the stress clear in his eyes. Stress, that would never had appeared there a year ago, born from months of her steady influence of simply having a good heart that was connected mentally to his. Though he was still ultimately the bastard she had first met, a man who had yet to formally free her. And a man who rejoiced in the idea of her being 'his'.

He nodded as he cupped the underside of her beak. A soft smile flickered across his face as he gazed into her eyes.

"Mine," he murmured.

She let out a gentle sigh, before she nodded. "I'm not anyone elses, that's for sure."