Page 52

Bronwyn

B ronwyn hurried through the halls of the castle, wrapped in only a blanket to cover her shift—an odd sight that made many stop and stare. Malik was no better off in an ill-fitting spare guard’s uniform. But she scarcely cared. Besides, the monarchs suddenly reappearing before their return from their wedding moon would be more than controversial enough to steal the spotlight of any gossip.

Bronwyn and Malik had managed a little sleep on the ride back, but the surge of adrenaline upon their return burned away any lingering tiredness. Her pulse pounded. Tingling warmth filled her veins, anticipation rising.

And then they were there, at the doors to the royal suite.

The guards on duty did their best to hide their shocked expressions as they opened the doors wide. Bronwyn rushed through the sitting room and past the few familiar faces there, and burst through the open threshold into the queen’s bedchamber.

A strangled squeak caught in her throat as her eyes fell on Ceridwen. The queen—her sister—sat in a chair near the foot of the bed, looking bright and healthy as ever, a brilliant smile upon her lips. She turned. Her gaze caught on Bronwyn. The teacup she held clattered to the floor, and she leapt to her feet and raced across the room.

“Bronwyn!”

“Ceridwen!”

They met halfway, wrapping each other in a crushing embrace. As one, they sank into a heap on the floor, clutching each other tight.

“You saved me,” Ceridwen said, drawing back first. “Drystan has told me some of what you went through—” She shook her head, tears forming. “Oh, Bronwyn!”

Bronwyn sniffed and hiccupped, her own tears falling, but for once, she didn’t mind. These were tears of joy, happily shed. “And I would do it again to see you safe. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Ceridwen threw her arms around Bronwyn again, the force of the impact knocking the blanket away. Someone gasped nearby, and Ceridwen pulled back quickly. “Oh!” Her cheeks flushed as she took in her sister’s state of undress.

But Bronwyn just laughed. With all that had happened, a bit of societal indecency was the least of her worries, especially around those she counted as family and friends. And as she looked around, most of those close to them were there. Father, Gerard, Jaina, Jackoby, and Gwen. And Drystan, of course, too.

Ceridwen helped her to stand, and then Malik was there, lifting the blanket and settling it back on her shoulders. The queen looked up at him and smiled, then lifted one brow as she glanced at Bronwyn. “So, you two…?”

Malik tried to step away, but Bronwyn grabbed him and held firm. “Yes.”

At her pronouncement, Malik settled an arm around her shoulders. It felt right.

Ceridwen sighed. “Finally.”

A hint of indignity had Bronwyn’s lips pinching together.

“I suppose someone needs to let Adair know to return from your fake wedding moon with Lydia,” Bronwyn said. Anything to change the topic. Literally everyone in the room was staring at them, their questioning glances burning into her soul and making her want to run right back out the door. Especially her father’s. Goddess above, what an explanation that would be.

“Oh, we received news from them!” Jaina was exuberant. It was easy to see that she took the news of Bronwyn’s new attachment well from the appreciative, starry-eyed look she gave the couple.

“Don’t tell me they’ve gotten in some new trouble.” Bronwyn nearly stifled a groan. The last update from them had been less than promising.

“Quite the contrary.” It was her father who spoke this time. Now that she looked closer, he was smiling, too. Okay, maybe explaining Malik to him wouldn’t be so hard. “They seem to have worked things out between them. Very well, in fact.” He cleared his throat. “There was talk of trying to find a priestess before they returned…”

“They’re to be married?” Ceridwen squeaked.

Apparently, that news hadn’t reached her yet, and she found it just as surprising as Bronwyn did. Lydia, not have a massive society wedding? It was the shock of the season.

“I suppose we’ll have to see,” their father said.

“All our darlings settling down and finding happiness.” Jaina wiped at her eyes.

Gerard chuckled and wrapped an arm around his wife. “There, there.”

Happy laughter filled the room. Drystan came and put an arm around his own wife. “Would you like to sit? You don’t want to tire yourself out so soon.”

She laughed. “I think I’ve done enough resting for a while.” The look her sister gave her husband was enough to make Bronwyn blush and glance away.

“Oh!” Ceridwen said, turning back to them. “But you all must sit. Rest.” She waved them toward the seating area. “Come.”

Bronwyn hesitated. “I think I’d like a bath first. And”—she glanced up at Malik—“a little time alone?” The sly grin spreading across his features said he understood her meaning perfectly. That one look was enough to stir up a mess of feelings that spurred a growing ache in her core.

Drystan coughed.

“Yes, of course,” Ceridwen replied. “I still can’t believe you took down the dragons.” She shook her head. “You’ll have to tell me everything when you’re ready.”

“We will,” Bronwyn promised. “But Malik did more than I.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. He flexed his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer. “I believe you landed the killing blow.”

“Good heavens,” Jaina gasped nearby. How appropriate that Bronwyn wielding a weapon should startle her sensibilities when the rest of this tableau didn’t.

The hint of a flush rose to Bronwyn’s cheeks. “Just that one.”

“But it’s the one that broke the curse,” Malik said.

“True.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Still, I prefer to think we did it together.”

He smirked and leaned in. “I can think of a few other things we could do together.”

“Malik!” Goddess above, had anyone else heard that? She really might die of embarrassment.

But he only chuckled and scooped her up into his arms.

“What are you doing?” she scolded. “You shouldn’t be lifting things. Especially not me!”

“Excuse us, Your Majesties,” he said, ignoring her protests. “I think our curse-breaking princess needs a little rest.” Malik was met with a chorus of encouragement, and, with a gleeful laugh that rumbled in his chest, he carried her off.

For once, Bronwyn didn’t mind when the love of her life called her princess .