Epilogue
Two years had passed since that fateful day.
The memories were still strong in Kirsten’s mind, even though it seemed so long ago now.
When she thought of how nervous she had been to come to this place and how uncertain she was when she met the angry, stubborn laird, she smiled to herself.
It had all turned out for the best, and she couldn’t imagine her life happening any other way.
She was utterly devoted to Marcas, and that feeling had only deepened over the past two years.
He had proven himself to be a kind and attentive husband, and he always made sure to take account of her needs.
The awful business with his uncle had shown Marcas that he needed to change, and he did.
Marriage had brought out the best in him, and Kirsten was glad that she had been able to play a part.
It hadn’t changed him completely, though. He still took his walks on the moors at night, alone. He had eventually asked Kirsten to join him, but in the end, she had declined, feeling that it was important for him to have something that was just his.
There had been no other ugly business with poisons, and life in the clan was blissful.
Marcas’s changes had not gone unnoticed by anyone.
Those servants who had been having second thoughts about their careers stuck around, and the castle was better for it.
During her pregnancy, Kirsten had spent more time with the healer and had learned a lot about various herbs and other plants, as she didn’t want anyone to be poisoned ever again.
In this moment, she was sitting in a field with sheep and cattle all around her.
Skye was grazing as well. Her tail whipped, sweeping away flies that insisted on resting against her rump.
The horse brayed occasionally and seemed quite content.
Kirsten sighed as she rested against the soft grass, watching her child play.
Gregor was growing fast. He certainly had taken after his father.
She was sure he would be a fine warrior someday, although she made sure to read him poetry.
It turned out that the book had been Marcas’s, and he had used the poems to try and help him through his grief and his loneliness.
It was a bleak, melancholy collection, and Kirsten had sought out nearby clans to get some collections of happier poems. They read these to Gregor quite often, and he seemed to enjoy it.
Gregor had deep brown hair and a happy disposition.
He waddled when he walked, not quite having mastered the action yet, but when he tumbled, he never cried, he always laughed and pushed himself up, just like his father.
At least that’s what Kirsten thought. Marcas disagreed, claiming that he had inherited that quality from his mother.
They never spent too long arguing about it.
Gregor had spied a butterfly and was reaching up on his tiptoes.
Kirsten watched with amusement at her son’s fascination with nature.
She rested her hands on her growing belly, for she was heavy with child again.
This time she hoped for a daughter, but if she didn’t get one then she would simply try again.
Marcas and Kirsten had both experienced the kind of strength and faith that came from their siblings, so they planned to have at least three children, possibly more, so that the children might depend upon each other as Marcas and Kirsten had depended on their own siblings.
The healer seemed confident that this time Kirsten was going to have a girl, but Kirsten wasn’t going to make any commitment until the baby emerged.
She winced as there was a pain in her back, which unfortunately was a constant companion during pregnancy.
“Dinnae get tae far, Gregor!” she cried out as she realized that Gregor was following the butterfly without any thought for where it might be leading him.
He didn’t pay any attention to her warning either.
Like his father, once he had set his mind on something, there was nothing that could pull him away.
She let out a low whistle, and Max bounded into action.
Max had grown too, and was a dependable companion to Gregor.
The boy adored Max as well, and the two could often be seen playing together.
At Kirsten’s instruction, Max rose, shook his head, and then skipped up towards Gregor.
Max circled the boy, trying to warn him to not go any farther.
At the sight of Max, Gregor clapped his hands and was momentarily distracted from the butterfly.
When he looked up again, the butterfly had disappeared from view.
“Gregor, come here,” Kirsten said in a light voice. Gregor smiled and walked towards his mother. Max stayed beside him, moving at a slower pace than he was capable of so that he could be there in case Gregor fell. Gregor made it to Kirsten before he lost balance; he collapsed into her arms.
“Oh, my, ye are getting heavy! Ye hae been eating tae many chanterelle mushrooms just like yer da,” she said, patting Gregor’s stomach.
He giggled and gave Kirsten a cuddle. She loved him with all her heart.
He had been formed from a mixture of herself and Marcas.
He wouldn’t have existed without the unique combination of the two of them, and she would always be in awe of that fact.
He was a piece of them, a symbol of their love.
She played with Gregor and Max for a little while until the ground began to shake. A rumble sounded, and she looked up, as did Gregor.
“Da!” Gregor shouted, and stretched out his hands as he saw the horse approach.
The hooves thumped against the ground and came to a stop.
Marcas was dressed in a cloak, which billowed around him as he alighted from the horse.
When he saw Gregor, he grinned and picked the boy up, spinning him through the air before kissing him on both cheeks and then hugging him closely.
While marriage had changed Marcas to some degree, fatherhood had done more.
His anger had been tempered with love, and he had developed patience.
His heart had been opened, and all the love in the world poured out of him.
He doted on Gregor, and Kirsten couldn’t have wished for him to be a better father.
He paced around the area, still holding Gregor, making funny noises and faces at his son, who laughed in reply.
“How did it gae?” Kirsten asked. Marcas grinned at her.
He placed Gregor on the ground and sat down beside her.
Max came up to Marcas and licked his hand.
Marcas idly rubbed the dog’s head. Gregor seemed to be a little jealous of this and pestered Marcas for his attention too. Kirsten stifled a giggle.
“It went better than I thought. It’s the first treaty between our clans for more than anyone can remember, and hopefully, it’ll last just as long. They seemed happy tae accept what we offered them, sae it looks as though peace and prosperity are gaeing tae be in our future.”
Kirsten sighed with relief and rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.
“I’m sae glad that we can finally put this nightmare behind us.
” Until the treaty had been agreed, Kirsten had feared another attack would happen and that the castle would have been engulfed in flames, but the skirmishes over the last two years had never erupted into a full war, and now she could sleep a little easier. The Monroe clan had no enemies left.
“Haes Gregor behaved himself?” Marcas asked.
“Aye, although I think he missed ye,” she said as Gregor tumbled into Marcas’s lap. Marcas tickled the boy’s tummy, and Gregor laughed gleefully.
“And what about the other one?” he asked, looking towards Kirsten’s pregnant belly.
Kirsten tilted her head from side to side and arched her eyebrows. “They’ve been a wee bit more trouble, but nae more than I can handle. I’m just eager for them tae enter the world. I’m ready tae hold them in my arms.”
“Dae ye still nae think the healer is right?”
Kirsten shook her head. “I just hae a feeling that we’re gaeing tae hae another boy. What dae ye think?”
“I’m always gaeing tae trust ye over everyone. I suppose we should start thinking about names,” he said.
“Are there any that come tae mind?”
“Anything apart from Roderick. Anyway, I picked out Gregor, sae it’s yer turn now,” he said with a smile as he turned to give his son his full attention. Gregor squirmed away from his grasp and ran away happily. Marcas made a show of chasing him, while Max joined in, barking happily.
Kirsten watched her family and felt a wave of contentment wash over her. Names could wait. For now, she just wanted to enjoy the life she had been blessed with.