Five days before the end of the season, the queen addressed a crowd of dozens of her subjects. Freya was in attendance, wearing her favorite silver dress, standing next to Muk. He wore the most elegant suit that he had.

“Now, remember your promise,” he said.

“I will.”

The queen was making a speech from a central platform on the south side of the mesa. The area was densely populated, but this square-Sparra square- was known to hold these mass weddings. Throngs of their families waited outside, as well as dozens of bureaucrats, all moles, waiting to take their signatures once the speech was done.

It was a bit more efficient to marry what amounted to a generation of the gentry and working class at once before the planting season started. It was a lot more efficient for the queen to just throw one party before the end of the cold season, commemorating it with the broaching of a cask of ale that had been prepared exactly for the occasion.

Freya hadn’t heard a sparra ever speak at such length, and despite stopping often to say that she had one more thing to add on the subject of marriage, no one groaned.

Freya for her part was ready.

River had taught her the final trick to bonding a warder. The key lay in the intent she held to her recipient. She would really need to pour out her intent and invest in him the trust that the magic held in her. It was an odd thing to think of the red mist as trusting her, and she hoped to never betray it, but she knew that it would take her a day of convalescence to recover.

Finally, a bell rang out and a sigh came across the crowd.

“And now, this generation, please do the queen on final honor, and swear an oath to each other…” She paused waiting for the individuals to give each other their practiced oaths.

“Where you lead, I will follow,” he said.

“Where I go, you will be safe,” she replied.

“Till the end of my days.”

“Till the end of my days.”

It was simple, and when the crowd was clapping, she formed the weave in her palms. Muk opened his arms to her, and she pushed her intent loudly into her bond, her weave, and then, into his chest.

For a second, the bond spread and she could feel another weak signature, the back of her mind feeling him. It was more than the chickens, who she continually bonded on a weak basis. She had a brief flashback to being a bear and looking down on herself but steadied in his grip.

He held her close.

“I feel you, and…”

She blinked back a tear. He saw her, and she could feel his emotions all around her. He saw the mouse that she wanted to be. She’d grown in the past three months, but now fully an adult and fully in charge of her destiny, he… saw her potential.

“I see you,” she replied, kissing him.

“I feel like I could run a thousand leagues, Freya, this is incredible,” he said, “Oh apologies…”

He caught her.

“No need to apologize.”

“No, I should have called you, Lady Chin-Hwa,” he said.

“That should do well. Now, as we discussed, as a newly married mouse I’m going to ask a lot of you, but nothing more than I wil now as I ask you to feed me everything you can get your paws on.”

“Yes, Milady,” he said, and they did.

"It occurs to me that perhaps at first glance if someone had asked me, two months ago, if I would have accepted things the way they are now that I would probably have first asked how they knew the future and secondly, how they might have predicted this if not," Muk said, trying to lighten the mood.

Freya's mother raised a glass.

"Here is to not knowing the future."

"Hear! Hear!" Muks mother, Grace held up a glass of her own.

Grace Chin-Hwa was a fair bit older than Minhee Uki, closer in age to Freya's grandmother. She had a quiet dignity to her and a diagnosis of a problematic spine later in life kept her in a wheelchair or bed bound.

Muk was of course more than happy to cart her around, but on the occasion of his wedding, his cousin had taken up the reins.

"Had I known what I was accepting when my mother introduced me to Lady Raina, I too would have scoffed at the idea."

Freya put a paw on her new mother-in-law. It pained her to see an elder mouse with such a spark reduced so low and when she had obliquely inquired about the extent of druid healing magic.

River had explained that for some things they needed to address it immediately or they could only provide pain relief. The sad part of the whole process was that there would have been something that they could have done if it hadn’t been so long before a druid had seen Grace.

“My only wish on this day is for you to know that your father would have loved to have been here,” Grace began, “And that he would have loved to meet you, Freya. My family is yours now.”

Both mice got a bit choked up and Freya paused to embrace her new mother-in-law.

“So is mine,” she whispered into Grace’s ear.

“Ah, of course, there’s a lot of pollen in the air today, wouldn’t you know it.”

“It really is quite dreadful, Lady Chin-Hwa.”

“Please, dear… call me Grace. We’re family now.”

“Of course.”

“You’re going to marry my son right after he comes back victorious from a campaign, and then take him away for a few years for training? I had better get a lot of letters from you.”

“Indeed you will. I will make sure that your son sends some as well.”

“That’s all I can ask of you.”

Freya released her.

“When your Grandpaw passed, I was so sorry for you and Muk, but I hope that having a new… member of the family, we can get through this together.”

Muk came to her side, embracing his new wife.

“Together. New clan, old clan, we’ll stay,” he said.

“To the clans,” Grace said, raising a glass.

“To the clans,” everyone around their table responded.

The lunch arrived with a fair amount of ceremony, and the mice dug in.

Hem sat down next to Freya, edging out her father. Faolan moved reluctantly. The mice had been playing seat swapper ever since the food arrived, but he’d been defending his position.

“So you’re really leaving like that, huh? Just heading out on an adventure without your brother?”

“Brother, you’re welcome to join, I know that the regiment would look kindly on you leaving.”

“Unless I have other plans,” he said, his eyes darting to Muk.

“What… other plans?”

Freya gave both her brother and husband a side-eye.

“Just something that we’ve been talking about, it all,” Muk replied, “Someone needs to become the next quartermaster, and who better than an experienced Soldier.”

Freya’s whiskers twitched.

“I heard that it’s expensive to be the quartermaster,” she said, “What with having to pay for the company under your command and all?”

“We’ve come to an arrangement,” Hem said, nodding to her husband.

“Sergeant Yates will be taking the helm of my company for the time being, and he will serve as the quartermaster until Hem is ready. It’s my understanding that there will be an open position in the war council for him at that time, with several retirements looming,” Muk said.

“Dear, it’s not your company once you leave.”

“I know… but… I know.”

“You can come back and visit it.”

“Yes, dear.”

Through this, Hem sat in rapt attention.

“Have you told her then? I’m guessing not,” Hem said, his whiskers going a mile a minute.

“Told me what?” Freya said, her glare intensifying as she crushed a biscuit in her paws.

“He’s going to be following me around, getting lessons until we leave,” Muk said.

“Husband, we’re going to have a long talk about what we do and don’t keep from each other,” Freya replied.

“Of course, of course.”

“Husband.”

“What?”

“I’m serious!”

“As you wish,” he replied, putting an arm around her.