Page 168 of Destiny of a King

Dravic muttered more oaths.

His mouth was dry, and his water skin had been empty since early that morning. He might as well get something useful from the wasted journey.

He dismounted and left his stallion grazing near Tibby.

The woman continued hanging her washing, apparently unaware of his presence.

Dravic walked toward her. “Excuse me, mistress.”

She stiffened.

Dravic stopped. He hadn’t meant to frighten her, although he could understand how the unexpected sound of a male’s voice might alarm a woman alone. And she appeared to be alone, no one else in sight.

He continued toward her and to put her at ease, said, “Your king requires a drink of water.”

The garment slipped from her hands.

Dravic watched as the woman turned slowly.

The world seemed to stop. He could not move. Could not breathe.

The blond hair had fooled him, though nothing else could. Her soft green eyes. Her lovely face that was etched in his mind and heart… Adira.

For one wild moment, relief overwhelmed everything else. She was alive. She was here. He had found her.

Then his gaze dropped.

Her gown curved over a belly that had not been there the last time he held her. Round and full and with child… his child.

He looked back at her face.

Adira made no move toward him.

Dravic made no move toward her.

Months of anger, worry, sleepless nights, and imagining every possible fate that might have befallen her vanished beneath the shock of her standing before him.

His gaze dropped once again to the unmistakable swell beneath her gown.

When he finally managed to speak, his voice sounded unlike his own. “Adira?”

Her eyes filled with tears and her lips parted. “Dravic.”

He froze. He had heard his name spoken countless times. By warriors. By enemies. By those who served him and those who feared him. But never in a voice that he thought he would ever hear.

Adira smiled through her tears. “Dravic.”

He said the obvious, “You can speak.”

Her smile widened. “Aye.”

Dravic continued to stare in disbelief, and then his eyes narrowed.

Adira was familiar with that look. It had been easy to understand.

“You can speak,” he repeated, “and you are carrying my child.”

Her hand instinctively went to the swell of her stomach.