Not even Herneval could stop himself from smiling, mentions of her father bringing with them feelings of warmth and comfort. She'd only ever smiled when she was around him, and as he watched from afar he'd vowed to make her feel the same way. She'd know no pain, no suffering for as long as he lived, and for a fleeting moment he allowed himself a chance to forget that they'd been broken. Anna would have argued oaths like that should never have been made, that he couldn't possibly hold himself responsible for what was happening behind closed doors. Guilt, as she knew personally, was not easily defeated.
Blinking himself back to the present, he blinked, the wide-eyed look making his head tilt in confusion. Was taking her hand in marriage truly that surprising a fact? He'd known since he first laid eyes on her that he would claim her some day, always having thought her worthy of ruling the kingdom of spook. He'd been more rational in adulthood, realising there was a good chance it would never come to pass. Now, as she looked up at him with such hope, he could feel his heart pulsing with excitement.
"I do," he said, nodding in response to a question most would have found vague. She was difficult to read, at least in the beginning, unsure as to whether she as excited at the prospect or if she was disgusted by it. Some part of him braced for the latter, the creature's brows furrowing as tears began to form. He didn't like seeing her cry.
Tears of joy, there was no doubt about that. A hint of disbelief, too, hidden beneath that heart that dared hope. He'd meant every word of it - approaching her father had always been part of the plan, and if there was one thing that weighed on him most it was that he hadn't been able to save him.
Without much prompting, Herneval sank to one knee, paying little mind to the fact that they were naked. "Would you do me the honour of being my wife?" the man asked, tears building anew. He would be the one crying this time, unable to believe how long it had taken them to get here. What all of this meant. "Quiero ser tuya, mi amor."
The woman was practically vibrating as he stepped from the bed, the woman pulling herself to her knees at the edge and gripping to the sheets as though they were the only thing that could ground her. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, the sight of him drifting to one knee like a dream in itself. And though she had requested that he ask her, hearing the actual words fall from his mouth caused her breath to catch in her throat.
She thought back, in that moment, how hopeless everything had been; how he had been the only shining light in the darkness of her life and the only thing keeping her from madness. And now, here he was, asking her to spend the rest of her life with him. And here she was, safe enough to say;
"Yes," The word finally came out as tears began to fall down her face, dripping from her chin onto the very hands that held the sheets below her "Yes. Yes, a thousand times, yes".
She reached out for him then, wanting little more than to hold him close and to never let go. She wanted to feel the warmth of his feathers and how they tickled her skin, she wanted to hold him for eternity. And the overwhelming thought was, that they had eternity. There was nothing keeping her from him anymore, no walls, no shame or guilt. She was his and he was hers.
"I love you, my Prince of Spooks," She sniffed, peppering his face with kisses and brushing away his tears "Oh, how I love you".