“You are one lucky man, my brother.”
He ignored Erik. He only had eyes for Bryn. When they reached him, he took her hand and she stepped up next to him. He kissed Hilda’s cheek before he turned to his bride.
“I love you.”
Her eyes watered. “I love you, too, Sven. So much.”
He leaned in and kissed her and the entire town chuckled. He winked at them. “Hey, I’m the king. I can do whatever I want.”
The cheer that went up at his words lasted several minutes. When the roar finally died down, the ceremony commenced and soon they were bound together officially and forever.
Six weeks later, they still received cards and gifts from well-wishers. Sven stood in his meeting chamber and stared outthe window, something he had done a million times. But now, life was different and he didn’t feel the stress of the past. He felt excited for the future.
Morning sunlight poured across Stagholt like molten gold and illuminated the rooftops and mountains. Sven watched his people move below as their days began. Once, he would have stood here with only duty pressing down on his shoulders. Now, he stood with joy pressed into every corner of his chest, so much that it threatened to spill over.
Bryn’s laughter drifted across the hall behind him. It was the sound of a queen who had made her home here. The door flew open and Bryn walked in while she spoke to Randi about something silly. Her hand rested protectively over the small swell of her belly. The sight pulled at something deep inside him. His wife. His queen. And now, the mother of his child.
“Hello, beautiful,” he greeted her. She kissed him in a way that made his body tingle. He made a mental note to reciprocate later on when they were alone.
“Your brother is meeting me here. He wants to show me his notes about my family history.”
He ran a hand over her belly. He loved the feel of their child and already felt connected to it in ways he had never imagined.
The announcement of Bryn’s pregnancy had shaken the town like an earthquake full of jubilation. All of Stagholt had filled the square with banners and cheers with the bells ringing until dusk. Freya had wept openly before she flung her arms around him and Bryn both. For her it was the fulfillment of years of whispered prayers that she, at last, would be a grandmother.
For Stagholt, they had an heir. Whether a king or queen, Sven didn’t know yet. Martin had refused to tell him unless he had consent from Bryn. Neither of them cared enough to find out. The child would be perfect either way.
Eva had recovered enough to join in the festivities. She moved more slowly now and was careful with each step, but she was alive, whole, and steady enough to go back to her position with Hilda. Between the two of them, Hilda had the best of company and no shortage of mischief to keep her entertained. Sven often found them both cackling over stories that Hilda told from her long memory of the past.
All of this was more than he had ever dared to dream.
Erik joined them shortly. He laid out his notes. “Unfortunately, I haven’t found anyone else from your clan. I think your grandmother was the last of the originals, but at least now your bloodline will continue on in your children.”
Sven hugged Bryn. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you were hoping that he had found others.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s okay. Like he said, Grandma protected me and by doing so, she protected the bloodline. And besides, Randi is showing signs, so it might not just be me.”
It had taken a lot of explaining to get Randi on board with the new dragon aspect of their lives. Much to Sven’s surprise, she had taken the news a lot better than expected. She had even brought up a few details about her own possible gifts that they were still checking into.
Sven took a seat while Erik and Bryn talked. Every once in a while, one of them would point to a paper or a photograph.
“Your face softens when you look at her,” Randi teased as she caught him staring at Bryn again. Her tone was light, but Sven did not miss the way her eyes softened. Bryn had been hoping her sister might remain in Stagholt, and Sven silently wished it, too. Bryn needed her sister beside her, not just the loyalty of the clan she had married into.
“You should see her as I do,” Sven replied, his voice steady but thick with truth. “Then you would understand why.”
“I gave her a lot of grief growing up, but she was always there for me. I think I understand more than you think I do.”
Later that evening, Sven called Bryn back to his chambers. When she arrived, she found Hilda, Freya, Randi, Erik, Lars, and a group of people that she had never seen before waiting for her.
“What’s going on?”
Sven took her hand. “This is the Visionary Trust Council.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.” She shook the hand of each member. When she finished, she turned to him. “Why are they here?”
He could read the same question on each face in the room. “Stagholt has always been strong because we have stood as one people,” he began. “But strength is in the ties that bind us with family, loyalty, and love. Bryn came to us unknowingly carrying with her the spirit of her clan.”
He picked up a box and handed it to her. “A late wedding present, but one that is important not just on that day, but every day.”
