“Ready, little lamb?” she asked, tickling Astrid’s chin. “This is all for you. You’ll see the lands you will one day rule, and the people you’ll protect when you are as strong as your namesake.”
Astrid smiled and grabbed her mother’s finger in a strong grip, and Bryn’s heart swelled, too big for her chest to contain. She’d never known such love, cherishing every smile and laugh. Looking to her husband, she found him watching them, the same tenderness in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful. Both of you,” Sigurd said. “Now everyone else will see as much.”
They passed through the open gates onto the city road, their enormous entourage following behind them. Eager citizens lined the streets, waiting for a chance to meet their princess. Their caravan passed out the sweet breads as they went along, each one baked with a coin inside, a small way to share in their joy and riches.
As they rode, Bryn stole an occasional glance at her husband. Looking at him, just knowing he was there for her, filled her with exultant joy. As a warrior, he had been committed to his vows to protect her with his life. As a husband, he’d brought her immeasurable happiness. But as a father, he had taken dedication to a new level and been there beside her every step of the way, through every contraction. In the months since Astrid’s birth, they had been inseparable, their time together interrupted only when Sigurd wanted to spoil his little girl and carry her with him throughout the castle.
Gently, she kissed the top of Astrid’s head and glanced up again to find Sigurd smiling at them. Geri came nearer.
“No words can ever convey how much I love you both,” he said. “You’re everything to me, Bryn.”
“I know what you mean. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to properly relate how I feel, except to say I’m happy. Happier than I’ve ever been.”
Motherhood had always been beyond her grasp, and even after learning of Gunnar’s curse, she didn’t think she would ever have a child. She couldn’t go through that pain of loss again.
With Astrid, everything had been different, surprisingly painless and easy, natural as breathing.
“Soon you will meet your lost brothers and sisters,” she whispered to the infant. “We will always remember them and honor their memory.”
“We will,” Sigurd said, reaching over to take her hand. “And we won’t repeat past mistakes.”
“We certainly will not.”
Their journey west continued until nightfall when they reached an inn hours west of Stenhave. Anticipating the royal family would visit, the innkeepers greeted Bryn and Sigurd with their best room and a crib long ago outgrown by their own child. That evening, they slept under a safe roof while their entourage camped outdoors beneath the stars. There were not enough rooms for the number of people traveling in their party, though no one seemed to mind, and the rations of smoked meat and salted pork were plentiful enough that each person received a hearty meal.
Lagertha and the brothers claimed not to mind sleeping outdoors to secure the camp. Bryn believed them, having seen the way Sten and Arne watched her general when the shield maiden’s back was turned. She could have her choice of either housecarl. Or maybe both. Bryn wouldn’t judge.
“At this rate it will take us a year to visit every city,” Sigurd groaned once he’d sprawled on the bed.
“That is a good thing,” Bryn said, laughing. “It gives us time to meet our citizens and to address any disturbances in each region. This is an opportunity for them to meet their king.”
Gunnar had never been as beloved as Sigurd. Ridaerons had tolerated, respected, and feared him, but certainly never loved the deceased king the way they loved Bryn.
“True enough. I know Cara is looking forward to our arrival.”
His sister would join up with them following their arrival at Kaskadehavn, their next stop. Officially, she would be there to help seek out any mages along the way so they could be offered training. Unofficially, she wanted to spoil her niece and give them a night of peace.
As much as Bryn loved her child, a night alone to rekindle intimacy with her husband would be a welcome reprieve. Gently, she laid Astrid down in the small bed, careful not to awaken the sleeping child in the process.
Then she crawled into bed beside her king and snuggled into his arms. “I love you. If Astrid is the moon in my sky, then you are my stars.”
No matter the time since the war, Cara had yet to adjust to open passage between the kingdoms. Trade had opened again between Eisland and the Ridaeron Dynasty, all nations of the gulf save Liang now part of the Compact.
At least now the jungle kingdom kept their battles within their own borders. Last she’d heard, courtesy of spies in Samahara, Liang was embroiled in a civil war unlike any other. Aiming to capitalize on the weakened nation, King Alistair and Queen Anastasia planned to attack at last, after long years of attempting to negotiate peace between their kingdoms.
An air of excitement filled the common room of the inn where she’d taken a suite. In addition to this, the talk on everyone’s lips was the royal arrival, people eager to lay their eyes upon their new princess. Cara shared that eagerness. She was now an aunt, something she’d never thought would come to pass in a million years, and she intended to enjoy every single moment of spoiling her niece.
Cara had dressed for the part of meeting with royalty, wearing a dress she’d picked up during a visit to Samahara, light sleeveless silk in cobalt blue, with a high collar and split skirts for riding. For some reason, her brother had explicitly told her to bring her best formalwear in addition to proper riding attire.
How strange.
Along with a wardrobe befitting the sister of a king, she’d brought numerous gifts for her new sister and little niece from Joren and Eisland’s royal family.
“They’re here!” someone shouted.
Chair legs scraped against the floor as people rose without crowding the door. Ahead of Sigurd and Brynhildr, two armored men entered, followed by Lagertha. Contrary to what Cara expected, the onlookers did not rush to swarm their king and queen when the doors opened, proving the three attendants had not been necessary.
The inn’s patrons knelt before their royalty. Cara didn’t kneel, but she curtsied, managing that small formality before she gave in to her urges and hurried forward. Sigurd intercepted her along the way. It had taken months to grow accustomed to the name, and sometimes, when they were alone, she still called him Camden.
“I’ve missed you, sister.”
“I was just here months ago.”
“Months too long,” he replied, leaning back to look at her. “Well done.”
“You did say to dress my best.”
“I did.”
“Now then, let me see her, let me see her!”
Sigurd laughed and released her, stepping back to give her an open path to his wife. Nestled in the crook of Bryn’s arms was the most beautiful bundle in all the Viridian, with a head of rose-gold curls and shining blue eyes.
“My niece…” Her eyes burned she approached. She reached with gloved fingers, then jerked her hand back, raising an uncertain expression to Bryn. “May I?”
“Of course you may. You are family.” Adroitly, Bryn removed Astrid from the sling and passed her into Cara’s waiting arms.