The crone's head bowed slightly. She was trying not to laugh; she found a strange humor in it all. Jesse said himself, they were both old, and it took this long to find each other? The fact that they, as a couple, gave him hope was simply amusing. They were certain not paragons of virtue. Her fingers tightened on Eric as her eyes lifted.
The smile changed, shifting from humor to caring, true caring. She cared about many in the City, but not as most would like. She cared about the man promising to her in a way that could not be considered anything other than a deep love.
"I wear no shoes, my liege. But I accept your vow, your body, and your being." She stepped closer, fingers tightening.
"Our path is not one written in story books. The old witch doesn't get the dashing anti-hero. Nor does the villainous tyrant get his queen, not for long." She didn't seem to care who heard her at that moment. "But, we are not some old witch or some tyrant. We do not fit a story previously written, and I will walk our path together with you...come what may.
"I willingly bind myself to you." The last words seemed almost a spell. All of it did, as there was a hint of power in their small group, dancing and waiting for something.