“She said we will have two sons and many daughters who will sire two great clans.”
Many children and two great clans? Sibylla couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Then ye have naught to fear. Our babe is, indeed, safe.”
“But there is more,” Alex continued, looking grim. “She said they will also be cursed, that our sons will be at war with one another until the verra last drop of blood is shed.”
Sibylla felt the smile fade from her face. “Ye fear ’twill all come to pass?”
“I dinna ken what to believe,” he said, “but it fills me with disquiet.”
“Ye have kept much from me,” she said. “But ye ken as well as I, that ’twas God who brought us together, and now ye must have faith that He will bless and protect us.”
“Aye,” he agreed, adding with a twitch of his mouth, “’tis ironic, indeed, that ’twould now be ye who would bolster my faith.”
A soft knock sounded on the door just as they were lapsing into slumber. “Prayer time soon draws to a close,” Father Gregor whispered.
“One moment.” Alex rose and answered through the door as Sibylla scrambled to don her clothes. Alex dragged his own tunic over his head and then helped her back into her gown. “I wish it could have been different,” he murmured.
“Nae I,” she replied with a soft smile. “I dinna regret any of it… except the secrecy.”
“’Tis only for a time,” he said. “The prince is two years from coming of age to wed, and the king will nae live much longer. Once he passes, the betrothal could easily be broken.”
“I pray ye are right, Alexander. I fear the consequences if ye are wrong.”
He pressed a finger to her mouth. “Pray speak nae more of it. Faith, remember? We must both learn to take each day as it comes.”
She kissed his finger before removing it from her lips. “Be sure that I will count all of those days… and all of the nights that we are apart.”
The priest knocked once more. “Pray make haste, my lady,” Father Gregor urged. “Ye must return at once to the palace.”
“I must leave at daybreak, but will return to ye as soon as I am able,” Alexander promised and then sealed the pact with one last desperate kiss. “There is a storm brewing in the Highlands. I willna have ye face it alone.”
Epilogue
At their parting, Sibylla had fought the urge to throw herself into Alexander’s arms and beg him to take her home. Her heart ached for her family and home at Kilmuir. She even longed for her old life of gathering herbs and carding wool. Though her spirt was burdened with these memories, her sense of duty had prevailed. If she had any true hope of helping her family, she must stay put.
This had been a night of great revelations. She was housed in a royal palace and betrothed to a prince, while secretly wed to another. She had fallen in love with a lowly monk, only to learn he was a prince in disguise. Their fates were entwined in so many ways.
Would Alexander, like Domnall, seek to claim the throne? Or would he choose to remain anonymous and work from the shadows? There was danger in such a life, but she finally had a purpose, a destiny. One way or another, Scotland would soon be reborn.
Her dreams that night were filled with many strange things. The boy king, Malcolm, stood at Scone, a shining crown of gold atop his head. At his command, a great cloud descended. The fog was so thick it obscured even the Grampian Mountains. From the fog, a dark knight suddenly emerged. Sword in hand, he charged forth on a fire-breathing destrier, laying waste to everything in its path. Heavy with child, Sibylla found herself among the many women and children fleeing toward the mountains for fear of perishing from his fire and sword. Suddenly, a castle came into view, a fortress of impenetrable walls, hidden by mountains and surrounded by water, offering refuge.
The gates opened and another man came forth, his arms open wide, as if welcoming the weary. As she approached, his face became clearer. He was tall and lean with dark, shaggy hair. And though his face was bearded, she could never mistake Alexander’s earnest, gray eyes. He rushed toward her, tugging her into a passionate embrace. Feeling as if her heart would burst, Sibylla awoke with a start.
It was all so vivid, so real, and terrifying. Yet, in the end, Alexander offered her safety and protection. Was it all just imagined? Or was it, in truth, a vision of things to come?
About Victoria Vane
Victoria Vane is a bestselling, award-winning author of smart and sexy romance. Her books have received more than twenty awards and nominations including the 2015 Red Carpet Award for JEWEL OF THE EAST, 2014 RONE Award for TREACHEROUS TEMPTATIONS, and 2012 Library Journal Best E-Book romance for THE DEVIL DEVERE series. Victoria also has a passion for historical fashion and lives in the beautiful upstate of South Carolina with her husband, two sons, a little black dog, and an Arabian horse.
Contact info:
Email: [email protected]
Website: www.victoriavane.com
Blog: www.embracingromance.com
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/YVeXrf
Twitter: @authorvictoriav
Pinterest: http://bit.ly/1vONQZh
Amazon: http://amzn.to/10QMKT5
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1sccsM4
Youtube: http://bit.ly/1yNtEMP
Virtue (Sons of Scotland Book 1) Page 24
