Page 241 of Fallen Nocturne

I push Aelfric’s chair along the path. Svenn helped make this device for me. He has made many more for the healing house. The Hlaryan elves say the chairs have made recovery easier for many patients.

Siofra’s grave is near the center, marked with a beautiful stone carved with her family crest and an inscription that reads, Lady Siofra of Celestria. May she walk in starlight forever.

Beside it, Darstan’s grave is marked with the warrior’s stone. Darstan the Steadfast. Knight of Aelfheim.

I stop the chair beside the graves. Then I kneel and place the flowers I brought between them. White lilies. Siofra’s favorite.

Aelfric is silent beside me, staring at the stones and at the names.

“I miss them,” I whisper. “Every day. I miss them so much.”

“So do I,” Aelfric says, and his voice breaks. “Darstan was like a brother to me. I always knew he had my back.”

Tears stream down my face. I don’t wipe them away.

“He was the best of us.” Aelfric looks down at his hands. “I should have told him that more often.”

I reach out, take his hand, and hold it tight. We sit in silence for a while. There is nothing left to say, so we simply remain with them. With their memory and everything they left behind.

“Darstan would be very disappointed in how much we’re crying right now,” Aelfric says, wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

“Siofra would tell me to stop weeping and go eat something,” I agree with a small laugh.

“I’ll walk again,” Aelfric says suddenly, his voice firm. “Within a week, just as the healers promised. When I can stand on my own, I’m coming back here. I’ll stand before their graves and tell them I survived. I’ll tell them I’m still living for them and for everyone we lost.”

“They’d like that,” I say softly. I squeeze his hand once more, then rise and move behind his chair. Before I can turn us toward the palace, movement near the edge of the gardens catches my attention.

Hrolf walks slowly between the graves with Lady Deirdre beside him. She looks at him and smiles at something he says. The master dwarf tries to hide his answering smile beneath his beard, but he fails.

Hrolf and Deirdre. When did that happen?

I do not remember seeing them together during the war, but I was hardly paying attention to anything beyond survival. Perhaps it began afterward. Two people who lost so much finding comfort in each other.

Then I notice what Lady Deirdre carries in her arms.

A baby wrapped in soft blankets.

Siofra and Darstan’s child. The little boy they left behind.

I watch as Hrolf and Deirdre approach another section of the gardens. They stop before a row of graves and speak softly to the baby, telling him stories about people he will never meet.

I feel tears prick my eyes again.

They notice us. Lady Deirdre smiles and adjusts the baby in her arms.

“Your Highness,” she says with a slight bow. “Sir Aelfric. It’s good to see you out of bed.”

“It’s good to be out,” Aelfric says, shifting in his chair. “I was beginning to think the healers intended to keep me there forever.”

Hrolf nods to us.

“We’re taking the little one for a walk,” Lady Deirdre says. “Thought we’d stop by and pay respects to his parents.”

The baby makes a sound. A soft coo escapes him as he looks around with innocent curiosity.

His eyes are Siofra’s, I realize as pain stabs through me. The same shape and the same clear brightness.

“May I?” I ask, reaching out.