So, in the Palace of Burning Coals, Prince Ember and the Shadow Witch were married, and King Red Flame himself gave the bride away.
When the wedding feast with its splendors was ended, the Prince led his bride home to his Palace of Good Cheer.
His own fairies stood to welcome them. On the high golden gate that overarched the entrance to his dominions three great marriage torches were set, that lifted their quenchless flames upward with pure and golden light.
As Prince Ember advanced with the Shadow Witch through that bright gate, she became transformed, for all grey forsook her trailing robes forever and left them robes of glory, robes of rose and amethyst and richest scarlet in their changing hues. The garments of her attendant Shadows changed, also, and became a soft reflection of the fuller loveliness of her own.
They came on through the shining avenue, amid the welcoming shouts of the Ember Fairies and reached the Palace of Good Cheer. From every turret flaming banners floated, from every window ruddy light beamed out.
At its wide open door Prince Ember bent and kissed his bride tenderly. “Enter, dear Shadow Witch,” he whispered low. “Enter, and crown my life with the priceless treasure of your love.”
Her face alight with happiness, she passed in with him. She had come at last, with her beloved Prince, to the fairyland of good magic—to the land of her heart’s desire.
