---
Vera nodded, as if this had been agreed in private long ago.
"We did not demand a ring," Vera said. "We did not demand a ceremony. We demanded proof."
Sekhmet stared at them for a moment.
He had expected them to ask for written clauses, for seals, for witnesses, for chains made of paper.
Instead they asked for something older than paper.
Something human.
He understood the strange logic behind it.
If he kissed them, even once, it meant he accepted them as real people rather than purchased tools. It meant he crossed a line that could not be rewritten by the market.
It meant they could believe his promise was not only ink.
Sekhmet stood up.
He walked around the desk slowly, not rushing, letting them see his decision was not forced. The candlelight followed him across the floor in long moving shadows.
He stopped in front of them.
Vera and Vela looked up.
