Aedan stares at Emeline, stunned. “Yer makin’ me king? Milady,” he adds whilst Ulf snorts.
“How about you meet Princess Charlotte first?”
“Aye, yer right,” he says, running a hand through his scruffy hair.
One more kingdom…
Emeline toys with the idea, and although being on the throne has caused her nothing but hardship…she was born to rule.
I will never stand in her way.
She opens her arms, and Sune and Loki step into her embrace. She hugs them tight, eyes closed as she inhales their scent and kisses the tops of their heads. It’s apparent she is weighing her choices.
Does she choose her family?
Or does she choose England?
When she opens her eyes, I see that she wants both. “I was once Wessex’s whore, but now, I will be Wessex’s queen, and I will take a king.”
She looks at me, and with a smile, she gestures for me to join her.
My feet feel heavy as I do.
We stand before the Christians, and with no other choice, they bow to Emeline and me, and chant, “Long live Queen Emeline and King…Skarth the Godless!”
This is unorthodox, and I am certain more wars will follow because once again, Emeline has changed history. But Emeline was born to rule, and it seems I was born to rule alongside her all along.
I am hardly her Prince Charming, but Emeline doesn’t need a prince to save her…and she never did.
Epilogue
QUEEN EMELINE
Wessex isn’t as I remember it.
I made sure it wasn’t.
The old monarchies died with Aethelbald, only to be reborn.
My death was the only thing that set us free. We would always lose the war unless we cheated.
Skarth was furious at me for doing what I did, but when I confided in Abbot Maxwell, I knew that faking my death was the one upper hand we had. We didn’t have the manpower. Nor did we have time.
So I had to think about how Skarth taught me.
And although it hurt for a little while, the result was worth it because some order has been restored to England.
Aedan is now king of Mercia and Benedict of Northumbria.
The way life comes full circle confirms that there is a higher deity looking down on us, because I shouldn’t be alive. The blow Aethelbald delivered should have killed me, but here I am alive and well and with a new addition on the way.
“How fares my daughter?” Skarth says, his ear on my growing belly.
Through death comes life, the circle of life, as they say.
“She is as stubborn as her father, it appears,” I reply with a smile.
The castle where we live once belonged to King Egbert; the castle where I was imprisoned and, was once upon a time, my hell.
