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“No,” he said bluntly. “Trust is earned. It will likely take her some time to trust you, too.” His strong arms gathered her closer, his hand curving over her belly. “And you are well?”
“I am.” She entwined her fingers with his. “That sickness at the beginning truly was nothing.” And Warrick had worried every moment. The warrior who’d stoically held her through the purge had been a near wreck every time she’d lost a bit of her breakfast. “All will be well,” she added before his thoughts could turn to the labor that would soon come.
“Then I will believe it.” He brought their entwined hands to his mouth, kissing her fingers. “What other news?”
“I received a missive from Queen Anja of Grimhold. They are inviting hunters from all kingdoms to come and be trained—especially from kingdoms such as ours, where the magical scaling has erupted beyond control.” Which was why Warrick had been gone these past days. No matter how many demons and monsters they slayed in the Valley of Stars, more appeared—though her uncle was dead and they’d restricted spellcasting within Aleron to healing critical injuries. “She believes that the increase in scalemonsters is the sign of another Reckoning to come.”
The last Reckoning, generations and generations past, had almost destroyed the realms that became the Dead Lands—and all the people living there.
Warrick’s body had tensed. “Where?”
“Who can say? But Anja wishes to be prepared. As do I.”
“So we will be.” He rubbed her belly. “This one might be a huntress, then?”
“She will be whatever she wishes to be—and will have to find something to occupy her time. It will be many years before I die and relinquish the throne.”
“Many, many years,” Warrick said seriously.
Smiling, she tipped her face up for his kiss, then laid her head on his shoulder. Her palm smoothed over his chest and came to rest over his heart.
His archer was no longer glowing—just as Elina’s skin was not. It had taken some time to root out all of those who’d taken advantage of her uncle’s cruelty to do their own. But it was not only the dead who’d been wronged, and Elina had spent the past three years trying to right the wrongs done to the living citizens of Aleron.
“My father will likely not appreciate the kind of queen that I teach my sister to be,” she mused.
“The kind of queen you are will see him for the indolent king that he is and remove him from the throne.”
“I will not be sorry if she does.” Nor would anyone in Tagdon, most likely. Elina tried to imagine that day—years in the future—when her sister would return home to claim her throne. She knew not yet whether to look forward to her leaving or to dread it. “Do you miss your family?”
“I do, but they are always with me. I know they are well. As they know I am.”
She lifted her head. “How do you mean?”
“It is…a knowing. Between those in my family who share close blood.” He caressed the swell of her stomach. “I will know of this one, no matter how distant she is. I know she is well now, that she is warm and safe. It is only you I worry about.”
“Oh.” She considered that. “I am glad she is well.”
“I wish I knew of you, too.”
“I don’t. If we were closely related by blood we would not be making children at all. Or should not be. Do they in the Dead Lands?”
He laughed against her. “We do not.”
“Well, then.” She came up onto her elbow. “Send to them a message.”
“My family?” At her nod, Warrick kissed her. “Perhaps they will come. Perhaps they will not. We might also one day go.”
Which would be a journey of several years. Though intrigued by the thought, she said uncertainly, “We would have to deeply trust whoever we appointed to oversee Aleron.”
“You will trust again. Your sister. Or another, like Dara.”
“I hope so. Oh! Speaking of who might not be trusted…Lady Faraine has asked me if she can come home to Aleron. I believe she envisions herself as a grandmother to our children. Or perhaps giving lessons to civilize my barbarian.”
Warrick grunted. “What reply did you send?”
She gave a little shrug. “That she can return to Aleron if she wishes, but cannot expect to be given notice by me or anyone else within my royal court. I also mentioned my jealous barbarian king who seethes when he thinks of how she almost bound me unwillingly to a worthless prince.”
And who was seething now at the reminder. His jaw clenched before he said, “You are kind to those who harm you.”
“I do not think they will call me kind. The punishment for Nanny Char was exile and shame. The punishment for Lady Faraine will be denying her the importance that she desperately wishes to have in my life—and denying her anything that resembles control over me. But she did bring us together, in a fashion, because she knew I was searching for a warrior just like you.” Her hair fell forward over her shoulder as she grinned down at him. “And something spiteful within me wants her to know that even though she used my hopes and wishes to concoct that false prophecy…it all came true.”
