It was so sudden, so spontaneous, he hadn’t had time to plan. If he’d planned it, he would have had a ring. He would have gotten down on one knee. He would have used her full name, recited poetry, done something to distinguish that proposal from every other proclamation he’d made. But it was too late for planning – he’d said it, and there it was, hanging between them like he’d spat out his heart and handed it to her. Her eyes were a bit wide with shock.
Then she kissed him. It was not a rejection, but neither was it an acceptance, per se. Mace found that his pulse was hammering in his ears, drowning out everything but the press of her lips. Her closeness. When she withdrew, it was her turn to shock him.
He gaped a moment, blinking.
“Are you….really?” he stammered, his face breaking into a megawatt smile the likes of which he’d never worn, before. “I…” Mace didn’t know quite what to say. He hadn’t expected to propose to her, had barely gotten to the part where he might fear her saying no. And here she was, not only saying yes, but wasting no time to call herself…
Mace had to wipe a a tear from his eye. They could do it – this could work. He knew a chapel, knew a person who would bear witness, knew a place they could hide away for the night. Just the two of them, and their vows, and the stars.
“You have made me the happiest man,” he murmured, drawing her in to kiss her again, the circle of his arms protective, possessive. “I love you so much, Morgana. More than anything.” He peppered the words between kisses, fervent and adoring. It was an effort to stop. He cupped her face with his hands, tracing her cheekbones with his thumbs, drinking her in as he prepared for them to be parted. But only temporary, he thought with a smile. A few hours, before the best night of his life.
“Meet me in Laketon, a little after dusk. Nobody will suspect two lovers meeting in secret, there. I’ll have you back by dawn.” Longer would have been better – he found the impulse to take her and never return to be nearly irresistible. But neither of them were morally capable of abandoning their posts, and Mace would take paradise for however many hours it was offered. His smile turned rueful: “I can’t believe I have to let you go, now. The rest of the day will be torture.” He pressed a final kiss to her forehead, took a step back.
“Tonight.” It was as much a confirmation as a reassurance, for both of them. “I’ll take the tunnel out. Be careful, my love.”
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