“You’re quiet,” Aldfrith spoke up. They were pressed so close he did not have to raise his voice to be heard. His breath feathered her ear, causing a shiver of delight to arrow through her. “Although I can hear your mind working from here.”
Osana gave a soft laugh. “Aye … not that my thoughts do me any credit. They keep telling me this is all a dream. That any moment I’m going to wake up in my fowl coop to the sound of Hagona berating me because I’m late milking the goat.”
Aldfrith huffed out a laugh. “No, you’re not dreaming,” he assured her. “This is real, and very soon you will be my wife.”
His words filled Osana with a warmth that had nothing to do with the friendly face of the sun.
A moment later Aldfrith passed the reins to his left hand, and with his right gently cupped Osana’s belly. “Will the babe be a boy or a girl?”
Osana was glad he had whispered the question. It was still early on, and she did not wish for anyone besides the two of them to know about this for the moment. Folk at Bebbanburg would make her life difficult as it was.
“Which would you prefer?” she asked.
“Either … although a girl with her mother's eyes and smile would please me very much.”
A smile curved Osana’s lips. “What if it’s a son with your character and eyes the color of the sky just after dusk?”
Aldfrith snorted. “I wouldn't wish that upon him.”
“Why not?” Osana replied. “You’ve the best character of anyone I’ve ever met. Your only mistake was not trusting your own instincts. Passion doesn’t have to rule you, Flann … but it can guide your heart.”
Aldfrith’s hand stroked her belly. “Thank you, I shall remember that.”
They reached Bebbanburg the next morning after setting off early, as soon as the first blush of dawn lightened the eastern sky. The party had camped amid a stand of holm oaks, and since the weather was fine, they had not bothered to erect tents. Instead, they had sat around a crackling fire, the warriors taking turns at watch.
Despite that she had lain upon the hard ground festooned with tree roots, Osana had slept surprisingly well. She had awoken rested to find Aldfrith seated beside her, ready with a cup of hot broth.
The smile he had given her made it the most beautiful awakening ever.
Now they rode the last stretch toward the fort, the walls of Bebbanburg rising high above. It was the same path that Osana and Raedwulf had ridden nearly three years earlier on their way to the king’s handfasting.
Much had changed since then—Osana had indeed changed much. For the first time since girlhood, she truly felt happy.
Yet as they clattered up the causeway toward the low gate, her stomach knotted and her throat closed. Happiness was a fragile thing; she was still afraid to re-enter the Great Tower of Bebbanburg. How would folk there treat her?
“Please tell me that Bishop Wilfrid isn’t in residence at the moment?” she asked, voicing the worst of her worries.
“The bishop and I haven’t gotten on well of late,” Aldfrith replied. “A few days ago I sent him away, back to Inhrypum. He won’t be making any visits to Bebbanburg for a while.”
Relief crashed over Osana at this news. She realized that most of her worries stemmed from that man. The memory of Wilfrid’s face the day he had walked in on them on Lindisfarena would haunt her forever: his hard, haughty expression, and the judgment in his dark eyes.
Osana let out the breath she had been holding. “That’s welcome news indeed.”
Aldfrith cantered his horse in through the high gate and drew it up in front of the stables. He swung down from his stallion's back and helped Osana dismount.
“Cerdic!” A woman's voice carried across the stable yard.
Osana glanced up to see Lora, her blonde curls fluttering, bound down the steps from the tower and hurry across the stable yard toward them. Joy flowered within Osana at the sight of her friend. She was a welcome sight indeed.
Ignoring his companions, even his king, Cerdic strode forward to meet her. Reaching Lora, he gathered her up in his arms and kissed her. She responded in kind, winding her arms around his neck, and standing on her tip-toes to reach him. They were both oblivious to the fact they had an audience.
Osana turned to Aldfrith, a smile curving her lips. “You didn’t tell me this news.”
He returned the smile. “It wasn’t mine to tell,” he replied. “I’m sure Lora will wish to tell you in her own words.”
Eventually, Lora and Cerdic broke apart, and the woman peeked around him to see who accompanied the warrior.
Lora let out a squeal. “Osana!”
