Page 53

2 years later

B ronwyn added a few more thin strokes of olive green to the canvas, trying to match the variations in the field outside her window. It was a sunny summer’s day, and the scent of the roses blooming outside wafted in on a light breeze. Across the way, one of the horses let out a playful neigh as it trotted in its pen.

“How is the painting coming along?” Malik asked as he came up behind her.

“Well.” She beamed at him. “I’m adding a few more finishing touches to make sure I have the colors layered just so.”

“Another masterpiece.” He looked it over appreciatively, his hands folded behind his back. The white shirt he wore beneath his waistcoat had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a style that never failed to set her core alight—a fact that he knew and exploited with wild abandon. “Who is this one for?”

“I haven’t fully decided.” She added another stroke and set the brush aside. “Maybe it would fit in Adair and Lydia’s nursery? She’s due soon, and I still haven’t gotten them a present.”

Malik chuckled. “As if they need anything else.”

“True.” To no one’s surprise, Lydia had done a marvelous job decorating their home in the capital.

“I’m sure that our mere presence after the birth will be enough of a gift.”

“Hm, maybe a more practical gift for them, then. I could give this one to Ceridwen. She’s convinced that Aurora loves horses, though I don’t see how she can be sure the child likes anything at this stage.”

Aurora Kinsley Ithael, the first of her name, had been born last spring, about nine months after Ceridwen awakened from her cursed slumber. Whether Ceridwen had been pregnant at the time she pricked her finger or whether it had happened shortly after she awoke, no one could be sure. But one thing was certain: the princess, heir to her father’s throne and future queen of Castamar, was beloved by everyone, most especially her parents, grandfather, and her aunts and uncles both by blood and by love, who thought she was the brightest ray of sunshine in all the land. Her birth represented a new dawn in their lives, thus the name Ceridwen and Drystan had chosen.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Malik moved behind Bronwyn’s chair, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “She seems like a bright little thing. Certainly has a voice on her, even if she doesn’t know any words yet.” He chuckled.

That she did. Bronwyn grinned as memories of her niece rushed to the forefront of her mind. “It will be nice to see her again soon. All of them.”

Though she and Malik often lived at their apartment in the capital, they needed space, too. Some quiet. A little fresh air. Time to breathe and simply be themselves. And so, they had purchased a small home in the countryside. It was also the perfect place to raise and ride horses, which, it turned out, they both quite loved to do.

One day, they might live there full-time, but not yet. There was still plenty of work undoing the ills of former kings. Castamar’s future would be bright for all its people; they planned to make sure of that.

Thankfully, if any so-called dragons were left, they had not caused any more incidents and had quietly slunk into the shadows where they would hopefully stay for good. As for Malik’s dragon, it, too, had gone dormant, and had not been seen since that fateful night at Thorngrove Hall. That the mythical beast had appeared in the flesh at all remained a closely guarded secret, though the truth was undoubtedly whispered over a pint or two on occasion, likely regarded as a tall tale inspired by booze or one too many knocks to the head.

“Speaking of, we got a letter earlier.” Malik loosened his arms and grabbed a letter from his vest. “Wynni wrote. She has several new ideas for next season’s opera and would love to run them by us. Apparently, her former assistant Chesa—you remember her?—returned a few weeks ago with all sorts of wild stories. There’s one that sounded particularly interesting about a merman who becomes human and accidentally falls in love.”

“Oh, really?” Bronwyn asked, her interest piqued. They’d been able to help Wynni rebuild and repair the opera house in record time. Once complete, the show Wonderland had been performed for weeks to sold-out shows and continued to run long after. It seemed disaster on stage and the near-death of many in the crowd was not a strong enough deterrent when it came to a good story. “That will probably do well. As long as it has a happy ending, that is. You know how people love a satisfying romance that ends well.”

He chuckled and set the letter down for her to read later. “That I do, wife.”

That title never failed to make Bronwyn smile.

They’d married in a small ceremony last Autumn. Nothing fancy. Just the two of them and those they loved as witnesses. It had been absolutely perfect. As had been their wedding moon, which they almost considered not returning from. But alas, they had promised to aid the monarchs in their efforts toward a better future, and they would hold true to that.

He crouched beside her, bringing their faces level. “Do you think our story will have a happy ending?”

“I do. Though it’s not just our story.”

Malik went deathly and completely still. His eyes lit up with a wonder like she’d never seen.

“Oh, not that,” she rushed to explain, though she felt horrible about dashing his hopes. He longed to be a father, and despite the horrible example he’d had, she knew in her heart he would be an incredible one. She could see it every time he played with their little niece. Children were not something she’d ever had a great aspiration toward. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, but the thought didn’t fill her with the same glee as some other women. They hadn’t talked about it much, but she sensed Malik knew her thoughts, and he’d never pushed the topic.

Being with him, though, loving him and being loved … it made her think all kinds of things might be possible, maybe even exciting, so she wasn’t quite as opposed as she had once been.

“I mean, I’ve thought about it. I know you want them. And they are cute. Loud. But cute. Mostly.” She was rambling now, her gaze darting around. She could barely look at Malik, who still smiled at her like she was the sun. “I’m just a little unsure still. But soon. Perhaps we could… I mean, it’s really in the hands of the Goddess, isn’t it? She’ll decide if we—”

Malik cut her off with a finger across her lips. “Whatever you want, whenever you are ready for it—or if you never are—I support you. As long as we’re together, whatever comes, I will love every bit of our life, for however long we’re granted it.”

“Me, too,” she replied. And she meant it with her whole heart.

They were stronger together. Better. And to think that fear had almost made her miss out on this life—on him. She might never have even understood the depth of that loss, cloistered as she’d been within walls of her own making. That would have been a real tragedy.

No longer. They were one now, and would be forever more.

Bronwyn quickly glanced out the window, then back at her husband. “You know, I do think we have some time left before the carriage arrives to take us to the capital. Perhaps we could practice?” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “You know, for when we are ready someday.”

A slow, wicked grin spread across Malik’s lips. He rose, held a hand out to her, and helped her to her feet. “An excellent plan. I’m always happy for you to have your way with me.”

And so, she did.

THE END