Epilogue
Sameer and Agatha got married right there on our altar. A few months later, when the snow had fallen, Willem and I wed in Chalke, in the chapel—It was good luck, after all. He changed his name officially the moment we were back on Oreian ground.
Even as King, Will couldn’t put down the sword.
He taught proper form and decorative moves in both empires, calibrating his efforts toward troubled youth particularly.
He, Ser Elías and Ser Willoughby, called the program ‘Swords & Horses’, and I built them a community center in Town Centre, where the three of them put on shows for King’s Land during the holidays.
In his free time, my King bred and sold horses, and to no one’s surprise, after devoting a significant amount of time to finding the right ostler for us, he worked beside the man just as much as he ever has. Eventually he admitted to enjoying himself.
I never built him a home near the castle but we did purchase the old farmstead in Chalke, for visits to Sam and Aggy over the years.
Staying in the Palace felt less intimate for how we spent our nights, and as evidence of what that meant, it wasn’t long before I had to fashion my mother's chamber into a nursery for a child.
Ser Elías was happy with the idea—I had worried he’d be upset, but he said the ability to be back in her room where he said he ‘felt closest to God,’ was the greatest news he’d been given all week.
Willem and I slept next to each other every night. We never had any real fights, just bickerments over little things, like why we shouldn’t purchase a pair of swans to add to our garden. ‘Mean,’ he’d said before caving.
…He was unfortunately right, and we had to rehome later in the season after an incident with Ser Willoughby, in which my cousin lost all his respect for the fowl.
“Willem Gregor!” I called, reaching for, but falling short of my child’s blonde curly locks.
They bounced just beyond my hand and he snickered, too amused with himself for a boy of five for having outrun his very round mother. I groaned, turning to the King. “I don’t know where he gets that,” I muttered. “Help me.”
He smirked. “Come along, son,” he said, scooping him into his arms far quicker than I could dare. As they laughed and played, spinning once around in a full circle, I basked in their shared vibrance.
My sweetest, the younger of the two, appeared out from behind his father’s leg, pleading with his tiny, outstretched arms, reaching far into the sky.
“Mommy. Up!” he demanded.
“Oh, Eli,” I sang to him. I tried and failed to lift him. “I will carry you again soon, I promise, love, but for now… Let’s race Daddy back to the castle. Hurry! Hurry! While he’s slow!”
We did. We took off, barreling toward the two ivory mares but it was not long before I was caught.
A loud and dramatic, “Save yourself!” to little Elísas was enough to have me left behind in the wake of both kids.
They tore past me, tumbling over each other and through the front door past the poor elder Elías, who then–a devoted playmate–went after them in suit.
My Sword, my brave, unwaveringly sharp husband, swallowed me further from behind, his strong arms coiling around my belly. He rested his hands on my swollen womb, and whispered into my ear. “I hope this one's a girl, my Swan.”
“What? No! Why?” I begged. “Why would you wish that upon me?”
“What? She will be as fierce as her mother,” he said, but he was laughing, boldly.
I frowned. “That’s exactly the problem, Willem. I thought you loved me? Look at you, cursing your wife. What a lovely man.”
He grinned, then pressed a soft kiss to my waves as they fell freely over my arms. “I do love you, Svana. That is why there must be more of you in this world.”
I rolled my eyes. I turned to face him, still buried in his wake. “And I love you, Ser Willem, but I think you’ll soon regret wishing for a Little Bird. She’ll be a force to reckon with and if our boys are any indication, she’ll be three-fold my ability to terrorize you.”
“Oh, and reckon with her we will,” he promised. “I’m sure you’ll teach her all the ways to sway me, too. Won’t you?”
“I mean, I can be bargained with,” I teased. “For a price.”
Will’s hand came to my jaw, and as I leaned into it, he pressed a kiss to my head, then my cheek, muttering softly. “Always a catch with you,” he said. He moved to my lips and smiled, quite devilishly as he pulled away. “But I’m not getting more birds.”
“No,” I snickered, shaking my head, and after a long, warm, and consuming moment of just looking into his eyes, I smiled. “I love you, Willem.”
“And I love you, my Queen.”