Epilogue
Dietan
lundenwic castle
two weeks later
“You have to tell us everything!” Sonja says, taking Aren’s hands. “Everything!”
“Did you actually go to the Great Waste?” asks Ophelia.
“Hold on! Let me take my cloak off first!” Aren laughs, slipping it off before being hugged vigorously by her sisters, one on each side.
I watch, amused, as Aren struggles to free herself from the twins.
Marcus and Jared are waiting in the hallway, and they don’t bother breaking them up, either, even if neither of them has seen the girls for weeks.
Not to mention that Jared and Ophelia have a wedding to plan.
Still, no one so much as lifts a finger or dares break up the reunion.
No man is brave enough for that.
“We missed you so much!” Ophelia says, smothering Aren’s cheek in kisses.
“We were so worried!” Sonja adds.
Aren smiles. “Nothing to worry about. And by the way, look who I brought with me,” she says, gesturing for Marcus and Jared to join us. They enter the room, all grins. Sonja scrambles to her feet while Ophelia squeals and leaps for Jared, who catches her midair and spins her around.
Sonja and Marcus stand awkwardly in front of each other, and Marcus wrings his cap in his hands. “Did you get my letters?” he asks.
“I did,” she says, blushing. “They were lovely.”
Marcus catches Aren’s eye, offering a relieved smile. Aren winks at him and then comes to my side. She reaches for my hand, leaving the two couples to reunite in peace.
“This is your home?” she asks.
“Our home,” I correct, walking her into the castle yard. No one was home when I arrived, the twins explained, as my father is out on the border towns and my mother and sister had already left for the summer palace. The sisters were to join them today, until we arrived.
I’m glad I have this moment with Aren before my family is reunited. We stroll through the gardens, ambling down winding trails, stopping at my favorite ancient tree so I can brag about how rare it is before we move on.
I take her to the library, where we kiss among dark stacks of ancient tomes. We walk slowly through the hall of tapestries, then a bit more quickly through a corridor flanked by historic suits of armor before racing past the statues of the kings and queens of Loegria.
“I’m boring you,” I say. “Would you like to see the kitchens?”
“I think I’ve seen enough kitchens for one lifetime. Does the prince have a bedroom?”
“Several.”
“Several? Interesting. Care to take me to one?” she asks, and I’m a fool because it’s only then that I realize it’s really been quite a long journey to Lundenwic, during which we were never truly alone.
“Posthaste,” she orders.
“As my lady commands.” I don’t waste another minute, and the moment we enter my private quarters, I slam the door behind us.
…
Hours later, Aren is on her back in our bed, out of breath and smiling up at the painted ceiling depicting the ocean gods and their endless battles. The way she looks at it, I know she finds it breathtaking.
This bedroom is the best in the castle—especially from this angle. Especially when Aren’s lying naked next to me. But I don’t care about the ceiling. I have better things to look at than art.
Crawling up her body, I prop myself on my elbows and look down at her, blocking her view of the mural. She sighs and gives me a dreamy smile, and I know she’s still feeling the high of our lovemaking.
“So, you’ve had two weeks to consider,” I say. “Will you marry me, for real?”
She huffs out a breathless laugh. “Of course, you’re only asking now after…” She gestures to our naked, sweat-slicked bodies.
“You know you want to,” I say, smirking. “But for whatever reason, you’re too stubborn to admit it.”
“Only because I’ve become enamored of the luxuries of royal life, thank you very much,” she says. “I’ve had enough of cooking and cleaning for the rest of my existence.”
I laugh and bury my face between her breasts, breathing her in. I love the heat of her, the scent of her, the feel of her.
She reaches out, idly tracing the ring-shaped scars on my back, which still haven’t fully healed, despite the rings now adorning both of our hands. I glance at her, a small smile tugging at my lips.
“Does it hurt?” she asks.
“No,” I murmur. “Hasn’t for a while.”
We don’t say anything after that. We just listen to the waves crashing in the distance, the sound echoing through the open window. The rhythm is steady, soothing, like the beat of her heart beneath my ear.
After a while, her voice comes, soft with sleep. “Dietan, do you really want to marry me?”
I crack an eyelid open. “You really have to ask, Aren of Evandale?”
She shifts, and I roll onto my back beside her, tucking her against my side, her head beneath my chin. I wrap an arm around her, holding her tight.
“I’m not Aren of Evandale anymore. At least not the same Aren who left Evandale. That Aren of Evandale never thought herself worthy of a prince,” she says.
I plant a soft kiss on her nose and say, “Well, that Aren of Evandale was wrong.”
She stares deep into my eyes and says the words I’ve been waiting to hear for so long. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah,” she smiles. “I’ll marry you.”
Joy fills me from head to toe, but it’s compounded by the words she says next.
“I love you Dietan,” she says, with a serious look on her face. And she doesn’t add a joke, or laugh, or call me your worship or a dumbass.
“I love you too,” I say, even though she already knows that. I’ll say it again and again for the rest of my life.
She drifts to sleep and so do I, the two of us entangled in each other.
My heart settles into an easy, steady rhythm, forever beside my future wife.
The love doesn’t end here…