Penelope nodded. She will be fine, she will believe him and give this grief a home. And in the future, she would learn to visit it from time to time and smile fondly at it when it displayed sweet memories to her in every single detail.
Neera would always be a gift she would treasure till her last day.
"And Neera would want you to be happy," Azriel said. "Remember her, Pen, but be happy while doing so."
"I am happy," Penelope grinned shyly at him. "I have got you by my side."
Azriel turned to fully face her. She had gotten used to seeing him in such fine outfits now, and his hair long, and it suited him more. There was a restlessness to him as his eyes darted around the throne room, and Penelope didn't know if to be concerned.
"I have asked you this before," Azriel said. "But it was hastily, and there was a war then, but allow me to do it properly."
Penelope gasped as Azriel went on one knee. She looked around quickly and saw the two sentries stationed outside the door give curious peeks into the room.
"My Lord," she tried to pull him up. When she met his glare, she quickly corrected her mistake.
"I mean…Azriel," the name rolled smoothly off her tongue. She still hadn't gotten quite used to it, but she liked the way it sounded, and Azriel wasn't having her call him any other name.
"Pen, let me do what I need to do," he said. He was now kneeling before her, and Penelope balanced from one foot to the other, as if in a haste to pee, but she was highly uncomfortable.
"Marry me, Pen," Azriel said, putting out a hand to her.
Even though she expected it was a proposal, a loud gasp escaped her lips.
"Neera wanted that too, yes? I wanted her to witness it too, so here I am, proposing to you in front of her." Azriel said, and with more courage, added, "So be my wife."
A slight frown settled on Penelope's forehead. "When are you going to get to the speech?"
"Uhm…what speech?"
"The romantic speech. I have seen proposals, heard how they happen, and how the man professes his undying love to her," she screwed her mouth in distaste. "But you, you are commanding me to marry you. I am not one of your soldiers."
Azriel's mouth hung open, and whatever he intended to say, he swallowed it and fixed his gaze on the floor.
"This went way better up in my head," he muttered to himself.
He raised his head up. "Okay, your beauty is like a rose…"
"…a rose? No, I think of myself more of a Limelight hydrangea bloom since that matches my eyes more." Penelope said.
"Fine," Azriel gritted out. "Your beauty is like a limelight hydrangea bloom, whatever that is, and I would love to pluck it and make it mine."
Penelope didn't swoon. "Hmm," she mused instead.
"Is that a yes?"
"If you pluck a flower, doesn't it wither off and die?"
"Fine," Azriel adjusted his knee. "I will try again. I love you, Pen, and I would like to make you mine, forever. Happy?"
"Must you put an aggressive end to it?"
"Pen," there was a warning in there.
"I would say it's a fair try, but you cannot make me yours forever because I am human," Penelope reminded him.
Azriel gave a grave nod. He knew this, and that she might not even live up to half a century as a human. And that someday huge paintings of Penelope might hang on every wall of
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every room of his estate and he would gaze up at her the way that she does at Neera now.
But he wouldn't force her into anything, and the last time he recalled, Penelope detested the idea of becoming a demon when her best friend became one. He had never suggested it to her, and was ready to accept as many years as her human years on earth could offer and make the most of their experience together.
Penelope knelt before him, and Azriel grew confused.
"I thought I was the one proposing," he said.
"Proposing marriage, yes. But I am proposing something else," she said.
She held Azriel's face in her palms, and a smile broke on her face, spilling joy where there was sadness earlier.
"I want nothing more than to spend an eternity with you," Penelope began. "Falling in love with you wasn't something I planned, but it is something I want to experience with every waking second. I want it to continue forever, and to do that, to live by your side with such longevity, I want to become a demon."
Azriel began shaking his head. "Pen…"
"This is what I want, Azriel," she said, determined. "Not what you want, or what Neera wants. I choose to be a demon, for me first, and for you as well." She grinned. "And besides, I am curious as to what the world would look like in about a hundred or five hundred years to come."
"With you, it will be one great ride," Azriel said, unable to fathom how he got so blessed.
"What's going on here?"
The new voice, the King, walked into the throne room. His confusion bounced between the two people on their knees, and he frowned, puzzled.
"Is Pen proposing to you, Azriel?" He asked.
Azriel groaned. "No, I am proposing to her…"
"…we are both proposing to each other…"
"No, we are not," Azriel said. "Get back up on your feet, Pen, and let me finish this."
So Penelope rose, laughing. Zavian studied Azriel's pose, and cocked his head slightly to the side, eyes studying the outstretched hand to Penelope.
"It's a no-ring proposal?"
Penelope and Zavian looked to Azriel in question.
"Dammit," Azriel cussed. "Pen, I will get you a ring, I promise. But right now, I really need to know your answer, and I am really hoping it would be a yes."