Astraea's POV
I clenched my fists so tightly I could feel my nails digging into my palms. Patience, I told myself. Just breathe. She's been through a lot, she nearly died, and she doesn't mean to be this—this exhausting.
But gods, Zephyra had not stopped talking since the moment she woke up.
"Okay, so wait," she said for what had to be the fifth time that hour. "So, I'm your bride? Like, your actual bride? Does that mean there was a ceremony or something? Because I don't remember saying 'I do,' and, oh! Is this one of those weird spiritual bond things where the two souls get magically tied together and then boom, it's official?"
She was walking beside me like a child trailing her babysitter, her wide eyes full of curiosity, confusion, and more energy than anyone who'd been on death's doorstep twenty-four hours ago should legally be allowed to have.
I stopped walking and exhaled slowly through my nose before turning toward her.
"Zephyra."
