Then I rushed through the door and then through the castle to go help my sister prepare for her wedding.
* * *
“My prince,” I gasped.
“Eyes,” Tor growled and I tipped my head down to look at him, our gazes locked then my body fell forward, my hand landing in the bed by his shoulder as I came.
I was still coming when he flipped me to my back and continued to drive into me, his lips so close to mine, their touch was a whisper and I felt his groan against them when he climaxed.
I rounded his body with all my limbs and the fingers of one hand slid into his hair. His face went into my neck and I felt him kiss me there.
I loved his soft bed. I loved his lush sheets. I loved the room filled with candlelight. I loved the gentle breeze drifting in through the doors opened to an emerald sea. I loved the weight of him on me. I loved the feel of him inside me. I loved his scent in my nostrils. I loved the thickness of his hair.
I loved everything that had anything to do with my fairytale prince.
Therefore, I turned my head and whispered in his ear, “I love you, honey.”
He lifted his head and looked down at me through the flickering candlelight, his eyes tender, his face soft.
“And I you, my sweet,” he replied quietly.
I bent my neck until my forehead was against his and I smiled.
Then I dropped my head to the bed and noted, “We had a lovely day.”
“Indeed,” he agreed.
“It’s just you and me now,” I told him.
“For a time,” he replied, his body shifting, his hand sliding so it was resting on my belly that now had the barest hint of a hard, beloved bump, “then it will be you and me and our son.”
“Or daughter.”
Without hesitation and without indication of a shred of preference, he repeated, “Or daughter.”
I grinned at him. “It’s good being a princess.”
His hand left my belly and came to my face, his thumb sweeping my cheekbone when he remarked, “This I find surprising.”
I tilted my head to the side on the pillow, “You do?”
“Yes, for my princess doesn’t act like a princess.”
I let out a small giggle then informed him, “I’m the new and improved kind of princess.”
“Right,” he muttered, his mouth twitching.
God, he looked hot when his mouth twitched like that. Then again, he always looked hot.
I wondered if I’d ever think differently and decided I would not.
Not ever.
Not ever.
I sighed happily and when I did, I realized I was exhausted.
So I asked, “Are you going to let your princess sleep? I had a long day, danced all night and this kid is beginning to take it all out of me. Yesterday, I fell asleep right in the middle of reading to Clarabelle. Aggie had to peck my hand to wake me up.”
“No, I’ll not be letting my princess sleep,” he answered and I blinked at him.
“You’ll not?”
“No, love, you’re a princess. You can sleep all day.” His head dipped, his face disappearing in my neck. “Your prince gets your nights.”
“Tor –”
He nipped my earlobe and commanded, “Quiet.”
“Tor!” I snapped.
His lips moved to mine, he kissed me hard, deep and sweet and I was quiet.
Oh well, whatever. He was right, I was a princess. I could sleep all day.
So I rolled him to his back and then I kissed him.
My prince’s strong arms got tight around me and he kissed me right back.
Epilogue
Commotion
Nine months later…
I heard the commotion outside, my head came up from the book I was reading and I saw Clarabelle holding my sleeping, dark-headed three month old son, Hayden Noctorno Hawthorne of the House of Hawthorne, heir to the Kingdom of Hawkvale and the city-state of Bellebryn.
I totally dug my son’s title as any proud mother of a future king was wont to do.
I saw Clarabelle’s head tipped to the side and her sightless eyes were aimed at the window facing the sea. My eyes went there too but I could see nothing but emerald green waters and large galleons floating.
The commotion was coming from the street which was on the opposite side of the house, a location we could not see.
Aggie hopped excitedly on my knee and I looked down at him.
“Chirpity, chirp, chirp,” he said which meant, “Something’s happening, Cora.”
“I know, Aggie,” I whispered then I looked at Clarabelle who instinctively had pulled my son protectively closer to her chest and her head had turned to me. “Is something happening today, Clarabelle?” I asked.
“You are princess of our city, my dear,” she reminded me with a kind smile. “Do you know of something happening?”
I shook my head and since she couldn’t see me doing it, I said, “No. I –”
I stopped speaking abruptly when I heard the door downstairs fly open, crash back on its hinges and then loud, heavy footsteps intermingled with light, clumsy ones were running up the stairs.
Standing as I gave Aggie my finger and he jumped on it, I turned alertly to the door while positioning myself between it, Clarabelle and my son all the while adrenalin flooded my frame.
Since my return, we’d had good times… no great times, months of them. Sunny days, family, friends, the safe delivery of the next heir to the throne which heralded parties and revelry all through Bellebryn and Hawkvale (of which I didn’t partake, seeing as I’d just had a kid and was exhausted) but it was all good stuff.
The only pall was that I didn’t get to share it with Mom, Dad and Phoebe but the rest was so good, I could live with even that.
Still, whatever that commotion was that led to someone racing up the stairs didn’t bode good things and I hoped I didn’t have to assume warrior princess mode considering I had no weapon, limited experience, some time had elapsed since I’d wielded daggers and therefore I was a little rusty.
On this thought, Blanche (fortunately not a threat) suddenly filled the door, her much bigger now toddler at her hip (in fact, the kid should be on his feet, he could walk, just not steadily which was why I figured she was hauling him around, due to her haste), her five year old’s hand clutched in hers. Such was her dash, he was swinging in her grip, unable to stop himself as his mother came to a dead halt.
“The sergeant at arms is heading this way, my princess. You’re needed at the castle,” she announced, my heart clenched because I was never “needed at the castle”. My son needed me, my husband needed me and Perdita, every once in awhile, needed me. I had a good life, a beautiful life. My time was my own. I was a princess who did my princess gig the way I saw fit (which was the way Tor had finally quit bitching about and just let me be and that was to say, friendly and open and often out amongst “my people”).
I highly doubted Perdita needing to discuss the week’s menus (which we’d agreed two days ago) was what sent Algernon off to get me. If Perdita needed me, she usually waited until I got home if I wasn’t home already.
Therefore, I wasted no time, turned instantly to take my son from Clarabelle, lifting my hand so Aggie could perch on my shoulder.
Confirming Blanche’s announcement, a loud banging could be heard from downstairs with a shouted, “Princess Cora! Your prince requires you at the castle immediately!”
Algernon.
And it was Tor who needed me.
Hells bells. What was happening?
Clarabelle lifted Hayden to me, I took him from her and he fussed in his sleep for about two seconds as the transfer was made before he settled.
My baby was a good baby, quiet and content most of the time, he let it be known in a weirdly commanding way when he was hungry or wanted to be changed (he got this from his father, I decided). But mostly he was happy to take in his surroundings, although, that said, there was a weirdness about that too considering
, since birth, not kidding, he was alert, almost watchful, as if he could see, sense and process all that was going on around him.
Like I said, it was weird but still, it was cool.
I tucked him close to me, bent quickly to kiss Clarabelle’s cheek, murmuring words of farewell, and then straightened and hustled toward Blanche to whom I did the same thing.
Then Hayden, Aggie and I shuffled around Blanche and her son who were moving out of our way so we could quickly leave the room. I headed down the stairs, seeing my personal guard, Geraint, standing at the side of the open door with Algernon in its frame.
Since before Hayden was born, my prince, taking no chances, decreed that if I left the castle and Tor wasn’t available then Geraint went with me.
Geraint was one of Tor’s warriors.
No, strike that, according to Tor, he was the best of Tor’s warriors, tall, broad, muscled, dark blond hair, light brown eyes and entirely forbidding. When I met him, he looked so ferocious, so capable of being all things warrior, I was thinking he would not like his new duties of looking after a woman and child.
I was wrong.
Sure, he wasn’t talkative. He also wasn’t friendly (at all). He was broody and intense.
But he took his responsibilities seriously. He was guarding the future queen and the future (future) king of the realm. This was serious business and he communicated that in every action, every move, every tilt of his head or glide of his gaze. I never saw him when he was not fully armed (that was to say, sword at his back, daggers at both sides of his waist and another knife shoved into the side of his right boot). And I never saw him looking tired, distracted or bored.
Never.
Including now.
“Is anything wrong?” I asked when I was halfway down the stairs.
“We need to get you to your prince,” Algernon answered, his eyes glued to me and mine went to Geraint.
“Geraint?” I called when I got to the bottom of the steps.
“Swift,” he growled.
Geraint, by the way, didn’t do anything but growl and when he did it was usually monosyllabic words. Sometimes he’d string two or three monosyllabic words together but this was rare.
I did not know why he wasn’t very communicative but, considering the amount of time I spent with him, I had attempted to coax this information out of him then, when that didn’t work, pry it out of him. That also didn’t work so I gave up on him and asked Tor.
Tor’s response was slightly more informative but not by much.
“War is war, sweets, and most things that need to be done during war for any soldier are not enjoyable,” he explained then his eyes held mine and I saw his were somber when he went on. “And then there are things that need to be done during war by some soldiers that are even less enjoyable. Geraint was my warrior who did those things.”
I decided, after getting this explanation, that I didn’t need further information.
Therefore, as I did whenever Geraint deigned to speak (or, more accurately, growl), I did what I was told.
I hastened out the door and saw that Algernon was not alone. There was a small guard (if twenty could be considered small) and this did not give me a good feeling since I had never, not once, had a guard of any number except one (Geraint). My feeling got worse when they moved instantly to flank me all around, Geraint taking point, Algernon walking close to my side.
I did not quibble. Instead, with the guard, my son and I moved swiftly up the cobbled streets to the castle, through the gates and I sucked in breath and pulled my sleeping son even closer to my chest as I saw what I saw filling the vast courtyard of my home.
Soldiers…
No.
Warriors.
Hundreds of them. All on horses. All with long, black hair plaited or bunched down their backs, wearing pants made of hides, shirts made of hides, swords at a slant at their backs, knives at their belts, boots on their feet, their dark eyes, fierce brown-skinned faces and immensely huge and muscular bodies all on obvious alert.
They looked like a tribe of giant Native Americans without the feathers and such.
And I knew instantly they were Korwahk.
What the heck?
We had, of course, sent several missives to Circe but we had also not had any communication in return. And nothing we said in our letters would lead to a squadron of gorgeous but frightening warriors taking up the courtyard.
As my gaze moved from the Korwahk, I saw standing on the steps to the castle a motley crew of about a dozen men wearing shirts, breeches, boots and they were also armed. Motley they might have been but they were also all handsome and well-built, just rough around the edges. They, too, were obviously on alert.
And lastly, there was a phalanx of about fifty soldiers opposite the Korwahk. These men were mounted and looked to be from Hawkvale except the colors of the Vale (as well as Bellebryn) were blue and green and those soldiers were wearing red and gold which meant they were from somewhere else.
I quit looking around as Geraint led the way to the steps. I held Hayden close, my guard peeled off and Algernon guided me up the steps to the top where Tor was striding out the front door.
My heart settled at seeing him then skipped at the look on his handsome face.
Yes, if the guard didn’t say it and the courtyard filled with warriors didn’t say it, Tor’s face said it.
Something was wrong.
“Your grace,” Algernon muttered, being far more formal than usual, likely due to the huge audience he had, before he dipped his chin respectfully, lifted his hand silently for Aggie to hop on (and Aggie, clearly feeling the vibe, did this without even a chirp) and then Algernon fell back soundlessly.
Without a word, Tor expertly pulled Hayden out of my arms, tucked him to the side of his chest in the curve of his own arm and wrapped his other arm around my shoulders, quickly escorting us into the castle.
It was safe to say Tor adored his son. Considering his days were filled doing prince things and mine were filled doing princess things (which was to say, whatever the hell I wanted to do and what I wanted to do was be a Mom so I spent all my time doing that even when I was doing other things too), Tor had decreed in the nights, he got Hayden. This, of course, also came with me being around (which was also a Tor edict but I didn’t quibble about that either seeing as being with my husband and son was where I wanted to be anyway) but if Hayden was awake, Tor was holding him and playing with him. When Hayden needed to be put down to sleep, Tor took him to his crib. Even if Hayden needed to be changed, Tor did that too.
He was totally a hands-on Dad.
Something which I liked, like, a lot.
I could definitely say that my hot husband went off-the-charts hot when he was with his son.
Definitely.
It was also safe to say that Tor was relieved my pregnancy was over. Although I had an easy one, some morning sickness just after we arrived back from my world, but that was it, my labor and delivery was not Tor’s happiest memory even if the end result was spectacular (what could I say? – our son was gorgeous).
Actually, it wasn’t that bad, although the labor lasted for eight hours which definitely sucked. But the midwife explained that amount of time was not unusual and the delivery didn’t take long at all (though it felt, at the time, like it took freaking years).
My prince, however, did not like to see me in pain and since he didn’t leave my side from start to finish, he had hours of it, just like me. Furthermore, his father had lost three wives, his mother had died while having him, my mother nearly died while having my sister and my sister did die. Therefore, my cries, moans, whimpers and, eventually, shouts were pure torture to him and he did not hide it. Through it, I did my best to make him understand it was all natural but considering I was going through labor and having a baby without fun stuff like drugs, I wasn’t very successful in these endeavors.
I didn’t like that he so clearly suffered right along with me (maybe, if it could be believed,
he’d suffered more).
But still, I loved him all the more for it.
And although relieved my pregnancy was over, that didn’t mean at his earliest opportunity after Hayden made his entrance into this world, Tor didn’t go about another attempt, or, I should say, spectacularly going about a number of regular attempts (as usual) to get me that way again.
When we were out of earshot and up the first four of the curving, marble stairs, I whispered, “Honey, what’s –?”
He cut me off, eyes forward, arms still engaged in cradling his son and holding me close, “We’ve had disturbing news, my love.”
Damn.
“What’s that?” I asked and Tor didn’t answer until we were at the top of the stairs and several feet down the wide hall.
There, he stopped me and curled me into his front so my son, my prince and me were all in a close huddle.
This, normally, would make me feel great. At the troubled look in Tor’s beautiful blue eyes, I didn’t feel great.
I lifted a hand and rested it on the wall of his hard chest just as I slid my other arm around his waist in a successful effort to make our huddle closer.
“Frey Drakkar and Apollo Ulfr of Lunwyn and King Lahn of Korwahk are all here,” he told me and I blinked.
I knew of Lunwyn and I knew of Korwahk. In fact, I knew quite a bit about both considering much had happened in Lunwyn (the icy country to the far north of the continent where Hawkvale was), the former Middleland (which had been its own country until a recent war meant it reverted back to Lunwyn) and, obviously, Korwahk. Tales had spread widely of what had gone down in Lunwyn, Middleland and Korwahk and all of this had something directly or indirectly to do with the now deposed and really not well-liked King Baldur of the former Middleland who was currently in exile on some island somewhere.
I also knew of these places because, obviously, Circe of my world was the Korwahk Queen.
“Why are they here?” I asked.
He took in breath through his nose but didn’t lose eye contact before he started, “Firstly, I have just received the news that Frey, who is a long time friend of mine, is wed to the Ice Princess of Lunwyn.”