Chapter Twenty-Six
Sven
Two weeks later…
The entire town turned out for the royal wedding. What Sven had anticipated as a small, intimate wedding had turned into the event of the century. He was surprised, and pleased, to learn King Jakob and King Gunner attended from the nearby provinces.
Despite the enormous guest list, the wedding hadn’t turned into a pompous, extravagant circus.
Everyone had come together to help Freya with the food and preparations, and the wedding had become a community event that tied the town together.
Simple, but beautiful, flower arrangements mixed with candles and garlands decorated most of Stagholt.
Erik adjusted his tie. “Do I have this thing on right?”
“You do. You’ve taken it off and put it back on like a dozen times already. Leave it alone.”
“I want it to be perfect.”
Sven snorted. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. Even Bryn would tell you that. You just have to be happy.”
Erik grabbed Sven’s arm. “Before we go out there, I wanted to tell you something, Sven. I know I left like a jerk because I was mad at our father. But I am sorry that I left you. I’m sorry that I didn’t check in like I should have.”
“Hey, you don’t have to apologize. Especially since it turns out you were looking for Bryn’s clan.”
“But I didn’t know that at the time. That was just luck the way it turned out. I know people have talked and thought I was out doing something horrible or hanging out with the Skelvarns.”
Sven didn’t want to sugarcoat it. “We’ve talked about this. Yes, we were concerned about what you were doing, but I never doubted you.”
Lars raised his hand as he exited the bedroom with his jacket. “I did.”
Erik laughed. “Of course you did. You think a strong wind is a bad omen.”
“The point is, it’s done and over. Move forward, not back. You don’t have to keep bringing it up.” Sven meant his words. Now that the castle was safe again, he didn’t want to relive the bad parts of the last couple of months.
For the first time in generations, the Skelverns had scattered.
Without any leadership, it would be difficult for them to reorganize.
Magnus had quickly been tried by the Visionary Trust Council and imprisoned in parts unknown.
The threat of the toxin had been destroyed, even though Martin still worked on an antidote, just in case.
The danger had passed and everyone was safe. It was the perfect time for a celebration.
When they moved out to the altar, Sven watched his people as he waited for the bride to come down the aisle.
His bride. His one true mate. And, unbeknownst to Bryn, his child was right along with her.
He had dragged the information out of the doctor and then sworn him to secrecy.
While he knew she suspected, Bryn had nothing confirmed yet.
While he wanted to blurt the news out to her, he respected her desire to be married before she knew for sure.
They were still working on her gifts and abilities. With the knowledge Erik had learned in his quest, Bryn had learned to focus her healing ability to its full potential, at least that’s what they assumed for now. Martin still waited on a few blood tests to see if there were any surprises there.
Now Erik and Lars stood beside him, as always, but this time as a friend and not a protector.
Bryn’s sister stood opposite them in her role as maid-of-honor.
She had arrived in Stagholt the week prior and promptly fallen in love with their little kingdom.
Freya sat in the front row, excitement oozing out of her.
What had started out as an obligation turned out to be the most important event of his life.
The music started and everyone rose. Sven rubbed his palms on his trousers while he waited for the door to open.
His grandmother appeared first, then Bryn.
His heart stopped as he watched Hilda walk Bryn down the aisle.
Her gown was layers of silk and organza encrusted with tiny pearls and diamonds.
Her hair was arranged in an elaborate updo, and her face positively glowed.
“You are one lucky man, my brother.”
He ignored Erik. He only had eyes for Bryn. When they reached him, he took her hand and she stepped up next to him. He kissed Hilda’s cheek before he turned to his bride.
“I love you.”
Her eyes watered. “I love you, too, Sven. So much.”
He leaned in and kissed her and the entire town chuckled. He winked at them. “Hey, I’m the king. I can do whatever I want.”
The cheer that went up at his words lasted several minutes. When the roar finally died down, the ceremony commenced and soon they were bound together officially and forever.
Six weeks later, they still received cards and gifts from well-wishers. Sven stood in his meeting chamber and stared out the window, something he had done a million times. But now, life was different and he didn’t feel the stress of the past. He felt excited for the future.
Morning sunlight poured across Stagholt like molten gold and illuminated the rooftops and mountains.
Sven watched his people move below as their days began.
Once, he would have stood here with only duty pressing down on his shoulders.
Now, he stood with joy pressed into every corner of his chest, so much that it threatened to spill over.
Bryn’s laughter drifted across the hall behind him.
It was the sound of a queen who had made her home here.
The door flew open and Bryn walked in while she spoke to Randi about something silly.
Her hand rested protectively over the small swell of her belly.
The sight pulled at something deep inside him.
His wife. His queen. And now, the mother of his child.
“Hello, beautiful,” he greeted her. She kissed him in a way that made his body tingle. He made a mental note to reciprocate later on when they were alone.
“Your brother is meeting me here. He wants to show me his notes about my family history.”
He ran a hand over her belly. He loved the feel of their child and already felt connected to it in ways he had never imagined.
The announcement of Bryn’s pregnancy had shaken the town like an earthquake full of jubilation.
All of Stagholt had filled the square with banners and cheers with the bells ringing until dusk.
Freya had wept openly before she flung her arms around him and Bryn both.
For her it was the fulfillment of years of whispered prayers that she, at last, would be a grandmother.
For Stagholt, they had an heir. Whether a king or queen, Sven didn’t know yet. Martin had refused to tell him unless he had consent from Bryn. Neither of them cared enough to find out. The child would be perfect either way.
Eva had recovered enough to join in the festivities.
She moved more slowly now and was careful with each step, but she was alive, whole, and steady enough to go back to her position with Hilda.
Between the two of them, Hilda had the best of company and no shortage of mischief to keep her entertained.
Sven often found them both cackling over stories that Hilda told from her long memory of the past.
All of this was more than he had ever dared to dream.
Erik joined them shortly. He laid out his notes. “Unfortunately, I haven’t found anyone else from your clan. I think your grandmother was the last of the originals, but at least now your bloodline will continue on in your children.”
Sven hugged Bryn. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you were hoping that he had found others.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s okay. Like he said, Grandma protected me and by doing so, she protected the bloodline. And besides, Randi is showing signs, so it might not just be me.”
It had taken a lot of explaining to get Randi on board with the new dragon aspect of their lives. Much to Sven’s surprise, she had taken the news a lot better than expected. She had even brought up a few details about her own possible gifts that they were still checking into.
Sven took a seat while Erik and Bryn talked. Every once in a while, one of them would point to a paper or a photograph.
“Your face softens when you look at her,” Randi teased as she caught him staring at Bryn again.
Her tone was light, but Sven did not miss the way her eyes softened.
Bryn had been hoping her sister might remain in Stagholt, and Sven silently wished it, too.
Bryn needed her sister beside her, not just the loyalty of the clan she had married into.
“You should see her as I do,” Sven replied, his voice steady but thick with truth. “Then you would understand why.”
“I gave her a lot of grief growing up, but she was always there for me. I think I understand more than you think I do.”
Later that evening, Sven called Bryn back to his chambers. When she arrived, she found Hilda, Freya, Randi, Erik, Lars, and a group of people that she had never seen before waiting for her.
“What’s going on?”
Sven took her hand. “This is the Visionary Trust Council.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.” She shook the hand of each member. When she finished, she turned to him. “Why are they here?”
He could read the same question on each face in the room. “Stagholt has always been strong because we have stood as one people,” he began. “But strength is in the ties that bind us with family, loyalty, and love. Bryn came to us unknowingly carrying with her the spirit of her clan.”
He picked up a box and handed it to her. “A late wedding present, but one that is important not just on that day, but every day.”
She opened the box and he heard her sharp intake of breath. “Is this…”
“I have woven the crest of our ancestors, of Bryn’s clan, together with our own. No longer two clans, but one. Our families, our lives, our history will be one.”
A spokesperson for the council smiled at her. “The sapphires now hold a proud place on our crest.”
“I don’t know what to say.” She threw her arms around Sven’s neck.
He hugged her tight. “The ancient clans need to be remembered after they have been silenced. Now yours will be remembered fondly, just like your grandmother.”
A cheer erupted that echoed in the chamber. Bryn’s hand found his and her eyes glistened. “You have given me more than I ever hoped.”
Sven bent to press his lips against her temple, his voice low but full of promise. “It is only the beginning.”
They moved to the dining room for a special feast. Sven stood and watched.
He saw Eva laughing with Hilda over cups of spiced cider.
He saw Freya rocking in her chair, her smile brighter than he had seen in years.
He saw Randi lingering at Bryn’s side, perhaps ready to stay.
He saw his friends and family rejoice in the promise of tomorrow.
For the first time in his life, Sven felt that tomorrow held no shadow.
The castle was filled with light, with laughter, with the promise of a child yet to come.
He had fought battles, borne losses, and endured years of obligation, but now he was no longer just the King of Stagholt.
He was a husband, a son, a grandson, and a soon-to-be father.
And for the rest of his days, he would strive to the best of each title.
Happily…
THE END