“You nearly didn’t,” Betje said wryly. “You lost more blood than I thought possible. Aalis and I had our hands full. It was lucky Rikard arrived when he did.”
Rikard. He came. Her heart and hope surged.
“Did he meet her?”
Betje nodded. Before she could ask where he was, Carlijn woke with a start, saw Hannalinde nursing the baby, and burst into tears.
“Don’t cry,” Hannalinde said, her own eyes burning. “You’ll set me off and I’ll lose the latch.”
“You absolute terror.” Carlijn was laughing and crying simultaneously, her face a ruin of joy and exhaustion. “I thought you were dead. I was holding your hand and it was cold, and I thought—”
Hanna interrupted her, hating to see her distress. “Well, obviously, I’m not.”
“Good, because now I can be mad at you.” Carlijn made a face and scrubbed away her tears with her sleeve. “You scared me so much. All of us. I thought Rikard was going to expire himself when he saw you.”
“Where is he?” Hannalinde blurted out, unable to wait any longer.
The silence that followed was a fraction too long. Carlijn’s eyes flicked to Betje and back to Hanna. “He’s home,” she finally said. “He’s roosting elsewhere in the house. He came back during the night.”
“Did something happen? Why isn’t he here?”
Another silence. Carlijn picked at the arm of the chair. “He…wasn’t sure you’d want him in here.”
The words made no sense. He wasn’t sure she’d want him here?
He wasn’t sure she’d want him here.
She sat up. The motion was too fast, pulling at something deep in her abdomen and sending a swell of dizziness through her. Betje made a sharp sound of disapproval, but Hannalinde would not be stopped. She held the baby to her chest, fury building in her chest like steam in a kettle.
“Go and give him a message, please,” she said. “If he’s roosting somewhere in this house believing I don’t want him in this room, you will go and correct that belief right now. I always want him near me. Tell him I have things to say to my husband as soon as he wakes from daysleep.”
Carlijn hurried out, leaving the door to the bedroom open so her footsteps rang on the stairs. The baby’s sucking slowed and Hanna’s lids grew heavy. Betje came over to fuss with the pillows, tucking one behind her back and one under her arm to support the baby.
“There. Rest now, and Aalis will come by this evening to check on you.”
Eased, Hanna drifted off.
She woke again after dusk to a floorboard creak near the bed. Heavy footsteps moved toward her, and Rikard appeared in her field of view, almost like he was flying above her.
He looked wrecked. This wasn’t the dry, bitter Nadir who deflected everything with a quip and a scowl. This Rikard was stripped bare, his eyes hollowed with exhaustion, his wings loose and dragging. He looked defeated as he sank down beside her and rested his head on her thighs, one curved horn digging into the bedlinens.
“You’re awake.” His voice broke on the second word. She stroked his hair with her free hand. He stiffened, resisting the comforting gesture. “Hannalinde, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Yes, you need to pick a name for our daughter.”
A whine escaped him, like she’d stuck a knife in his ribs. She reached for his hand and pulled it to the baby’s head, pressing his palm against the dark wisps of hair, and his fingers trembled under hers.
“There is something I need to tell you,” he said again, and his voice was steadier now but no less wrecked. What terrible truth was he holding back? “Before we name her. Before you say anything else.”
The throbbing bond at the base of her skull intensified. He was close, so close. He was coming for her. She should be cowering in fear, but she felt oddly calm. Rikard was here now. He’d protect her and their child.
“Then tell me, quick,” she said, and held his hand and waited.
Rikard
On the floor at her feet, his wings spread behind him on the scrubbed floorboards, he felt like a criminal before judgment, knowing he did not deserve her mercy.
“I broke my vow to you.” He remained in her lap, reveling in these last moments while her touch was still tender. “I would ask for your forgiveness, but I do not deserve it, nor am I remorseful. I would do it again.”
