Chapter 46
Victory News (And Strawberries)
Caspian was trying very hard to focus on the estate reports in front of him.
It was proving difficult.
Not because the reports were particularly complex—the harvest projections were solid, the northern border defenses were well-maintained, and the household expenses were perfectly reasonable.
No, the difficulty was the seven-months-pregnant duchess currently sitting on his lap, feeding him fruit.
"Try the strawberry," Caroline said, holding up a particularly plump berry. "This one looks perfect."
Caspian obediently opened his mouth, and she popped the strawberry in with a satisfied smile.
It was, admittedly, very good.
"Caroline," he said after swallowing. "I do need to finish these reports."
"You can work and eat at the same time," Caroline pointed out reasonably. She was nestled comfortably against him, her rounded belly resting against his chest, the platter of fruit balanced on the edge of his desk within easy reach.
"I can," Caspian agreed. "But you're distracting."
"I'm helping," Caroline corrected. She selected a grape this time. "You need to eat. You've been in here for three hours."
"I ate breakfast."
"That was five hours ago." She offered him the grape.
Caspian sighed and accepted it. There was no winning this argument, and truthfully, he didn't mind. Having Caroline close, feeling their son move occasionally against him, her warmth and presence filling his study—it was far better than working alone.
He managed to read through another paragraph of the border patrol schedule before Caroline offered him a slice of apple.
"This working arrangement is terribly inefficient," Caspian observed, though he ate the apple.
"You're still working, aren't you?" Caroline said. "Therefore it's efficient enough."
She shifted slightly, adjusting her position on his lap. At seven months pregnant, she was significantly rounder than she'd been, but she'd stubbornly insisted she could still sit comfortably on his lap.
Caspian would never complain. Not when she was this close, this content.
He was attempting to focus on the supply requisitions when there was a knock at the study door.
"Enter," Caspian called.
Edmund, their butler, opened the door. His expression was carefully neutral, but Caspian caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth—the subtle sign of amusement the man rarely showed.
"Your Grace," Edmund said smoothly. "A royal messenger has arrived with an urgent announcement."
"Send him in," Caspian said.
Caroline made no move to get up from his lap. She simply selected another strawberry and continued her self-appointed task of making sure he ate.
Edmund's amusement deepened fractionally—barely visible, but there—before he stepped aside to allow the messenger entry.
The royal messenger was young, clearly nervous, and wearing the formal livery of the Crown. He stepped into the study, took in the scene before him—the fearsome Duke of Vanthorn at his desk, his very pregnant wife sitting contentedly on his lap feeding him fruit—and froze.
"Your Grace," the messenger managed, bowing quickly. "I bring word from the capital. An official announcement from His Majesty the King."
"Proceed," Caspian said calmly, as if there was nothing unusual about the situation.
The messenger cleared his throat and produced a sealed scroll. He broke the royal seal and read:
"By order of His Majesty King Edric Vaelindor, it is my honor to announce to the realm: THE BLIGHT HAS BEEN DEFEATED!"
Caspian went very still.
Caroline paused mid-reach for another grape.
The messenger continued, his voice gaining confidence: "Earl Sinclair and Lady Rosalie Lennox, along with the brave forces of the royal expedition, have successfully reached the heart of the Wasteland.
Lady Rosalie's holy purification magic, combined with the strength and courage of our kingdom's finest warriors, has cleansed the source of corruption.
The miasma is clearing. The Wasteland is beginning to heal.
The Blight that has plagued our kingdom for generations has been vanquished! "
The messenger looked up from the scroll. "His Majesty extends his deepest gratitude to all who have defended the realm against this threat, including you, Your Grace, for your tireless protection of the northern borders. The kingdom celebrates this glorious victory!"
There was a moment of silence.
Then Caroline said, quite calmly, "Oh good. They won. I knew they would."
The messenger blinked at her, clearly expecting more reaction.
Caspian, however, was feeling something profound settle in his chest.
Relief.
Massive, overwhelming relief.
No more constant border defense against corrupted hordes. No more watching the miasma creep closer each season. No more endless, grinding battles against Blightspawn that regenerated faster than they could be killed.
Yes, they'd still need to guard the borders against regular threats—bandits, wild beasts, the occasional territorial dispute. But not the Blight. Not the corruption that had consumed so much of his life.
"That is excellent news," Caspian said, his voice rougher than he intended. "Thank you for bringing it."
"There will be celebrations in the capital," the messenger added. "His Majesty invites all nobles to attend the victory ceremony in one month's time."
"We will send our response," Caspian said. He glanced at Caroline, who was extremely pregnant. "Depending on our circumstances."
"Of course, Your Grace." The messenger bowed. "I'll take my leave. Congratulations to you both on your impending arrival as well."
Edmund showed the messenger out.
The moment the door closed, Caroline set down the grape she'd been holding and turned to look at Caspian fully.
"Does this mean you'll be home more?" she asked.
That was her first question. Not about the kingdom's victory, not about the historic defeat of the Blight, not about Percival and Rosalie's heroic achievement.
Just whether her husband would be home more.
Caspian felt his chest tighten with emotion.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Much more."
Caroline's face lit up. "Perfect."
She wrapped her arms around his neck—as much as her pregnant belly allowed—and hugged him tightly.
Caspian held her close, one hand splayed protectively over where their son grew.
"I'm so glad," Caroline whispered against his shoulder. "I'm so glad you won't have to fight that anymore. That you'll be safer. That you'll be here."
Not celebrating the kingdom's victory.
Celebrating his safety. His presence. Their future together.
"I'll still need to patrol the borders," Caspian said. "Still need to train the troops, maintain the defenses. But not like before. Not the constant campaigns."
"Good," Caroline said firmly. She pulled back to look at him, her amber eyes bright. "Because Caelan is going to need his father around. And I need my husband."
"You have me," Caspian promised. "Always."
She kissed him then, sweet and soft and full of relief and joy.
When they broke apart, she was smiling. "We should celebrate."
"The kingdom is celebrating," Caspian pointed out.
"I meant here," Caroline said. "At Frostholme. Our people have been defending the borders too. They deserve to celebrate."
Caspian considered. "A feast?"
"A proper celebration," Caroline agreed. "In a few days, once word spreads. Food, music, dancing. Let everyone enjoy this victory."
"That sounds appropriate," Caspian said.
Caroline settled back against him, reaching for the fruit platter again. "Here. Have another strawberry. We're celebrating."
Caspian accepted the strawberry, but he was watching her face. "You really did know they'd win."
"They're the Chosen Ones," Caroline said simply. "It was always going to happen. The universe doesn't let hero quests fail."
"The universe," Caspian repeated, amused.
"Fate. Destiny. Whatever you want to call it." Caroline selected a grape for herself. "Percival and Rosalie were always going to defeat the Blight. That was their story."
"And what's our story?" Caspian asked.
Caroline looked at him, her expression softening into something tender. "This. Right here. You, me, our son. Our life together. Our happiness."
She rested her hand over his where it lay on her belly. "That's our story. And I like it much better than fighting ancient evils in a wasteland."
Caspian pulled her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the solid proof that this was real.
"So do I," he said quietly.
They sat there for a long moment, wrapped in each other, the fruit platter forgotten.
Outside, Caspian could hear the sounds of the estate coming alive with the news. Servants calling to each other, excited voices, the beginning of spontaneous celebration.
The Blight was defeated.
The kingdom was saved.
And Caspian could finally, truly, build the peaceful life he'd never thought possible.
With the woman he loved. With their son on the way. With a future that didn't revolve around endless war.
"In a few days," Caroline said eventually, snuggling closer. "We'll have our celebration. But right now, I just want to sit here with you."
"I can arrange that," Caspian said.
She smiled and offered him another slice of apple.
Caspian accepted it, held his wife close, and allowed himself to simply be happy.
The Blight was gone.
He was home.
And everything he needed was right here in his arms.