by Jeanne Hardt
He welcomed the jubilance of the Padridans, and even spotted a few Basilian men in the mix. Those who had stayed behind with their new Padridan brides.
He extended a hand to Olivia and helped her down.
“Our princess returns!” someone shouted, followed by cheers.
Within seconds, a mass of people enclosed Olivia. They reached out to her and offered their blessings for the coming child.
Her smile radiated like the sun itself.
He had done right by bringing her here. They loved her as much as he did.
“What is this?” King Boden bellowed.
The crowd parted to allow him through. The joy in his eyes matched Olivia’s.
“Hello, Father.”
The two embraced as if they had not seen one another in years, then King Boden turned to him. “You have brought my daughter back to me? Did you decide you no longer care for her?” He laughed heartily, then grabbed onto Sebastian’s arm and yanked him into a hug. “My son.” He patted Sebastian’s shoulder and released him. “For whatever reason you are here, I am grateful.”
Sebastian politely bowed his head. “We have much to discuss.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He faced the mumbling crowd. “Go on about your business. Tonight, we will feast and celebrate Princess Olivia’s homecoming.”
With appropriate bows and curtsies, the people scattered.
King Boden tucked Olivia’s arm into his own and led her toward the castle entrance. Sebastian strode beside them, taking everything in. Padrida truly was beautiful.
For a short-legged man, Boden walked rather fast. “Your mother’s heart may fail her when she sees you, but in a good way.” He chuckled. “How long will you be staying?”
Olivia glanced at Sebastian, questioning him with her eyes.
“We are not certain,” Sebastian said. “As I mentioned, we have a great deal to discuss.”
“Hmm.” Boden fidgeted with his beard. “Well. Say no more, until Sonya is with us.”
They reached the front gate, and Olivia broke free from her father and ran toward the guard. “Gerard!” she squealed and hugged the man.
Sebastian shook his head, grinning.
Poor Gerard’s eyes widened larger than the full moon. As she stepped back, he pushed his lengthy hair from his face. “Princess Olivia. You are home.”
“That I am. How do you fare, Gerard?”
“Very well, Highness.” He puffed out his chest. “Lady Margaret is with child.”
“Wonderful!” She leaned close to him. “As am I.”
Gerard grinned. “We were told. The king speaks of little else.”
King Boden held up a hand. “Yes, Gerard. Why not tell all my secrets?”
“Forgive me, sire.” Gerard bowed low, then waved them in.
Sebastian marveled at the ease in the air. Such happiness had come to feel foreign, but he relished it. He treasured even greater the expression of utter peace and contentment on Olivia’s face.
He followed close at her heels, not wanting to distance himself from her.
King Boden led them to the familiar great room. He braced a hand on the mantel of the fireplace and gestured for them to take a seat on the chaise. “Wait here, while I find Sonya. I assume she is still in our bedchamber, sewing on one of her many gowns.” He crossed to Olivia, kissed her forehead, then walked away.
Olivia smoothed her skirt and sighed. “Being here makes me feel like a child again.” She stared at the empty fireplace. No fire burned, but it was not needed. They did not use the room for cooking, and the air was seasonably warm.
“You are no child, but I understand.” He took her hand. “But please, do not forget why we are here. As much as I wish things could go on in Padrida as they always have, I fear that would be unreasonable to expect.”
She somberly nodded. “Even so, I intend to enjoy being here for as long as I can.” She pushed her hand into his hair. “We will face whatever comes together.” The kiss she gave him reminded him of the importance of treasuring every moment. Worry merely made his head ache.
Queen Sonya rushed into the room, and Olivia jumped to her feet and embraced her.
“Let me look at you.” The queen stepped to the side and pushed down the fabric over Olivia’s stomach. “Yes, there is a slight bulge. How much longer?”
“About four and a half months,” Olivia said. “Long enough for us to settle in here and prepare for our child.”
Sebastian could think of no better way to start the conversation. Olivia’s parents now knew they would not be leaving anytime soon. They appropriately gaped.
Sebastian stood. “We hope you will not object, but we decided to accept your offer to live here.”
The queen threw up her hands, then lunged at him and wrapped her arms around his body so tight she took his breath. “You dear man.” She kissed his cheek. “You have made this grandmother-to-be extremely happy.”
Sebastian was quite certain his cheeks glowed red. Olivia’s giggle confirmed it.
“No.” King Boden shook his head. “I cannot accept that this comes so readily. You said we have much to discuss, so tell me, why have you come?”
“We should all have a seat.” Sebastian led the way, by returning to the chaise and sitting down himself.
Boden folded his arms. “I prefer to stand.”
The joy in Queen Sonya’s eyes faded. She held onto Olivia’s arm, and the two sat beside Sebastian.
He chose not to waste any time and told them everything that had happened in Thanwine. Olivia occasionally interjected bits of facts he had neglected, but all in all, they told their side of the story. The only version they knew.
Sonya covered her heart with both hands. “Does your mother truly believe you to be a murderer?”
“Honestly, I am not sure. I fear she holds Olivia more responsible than myself. My parents do not know her as I do, or anywhere close to the degree you know her. Olivia is innocent, and I could not bear keeping her where she was not wanted. Here, she is loved, and I will stand by her side forever on your lands, if that is where we must stay.”
“I remember Callum of Oros,” Boden grumbled, then sat tall. “I wanted to run him through when he spoke against Olivia at your wedding rite—if I dare even call it that.” He shook a finger in the air. “Let him try to come here and disrupt my realm. I will see his head on a platter.”
“Please, Boden,” Sonya said. “The thought repulses me, and our daughter does not need to hear such things in her condition.” She sighed. “Sebastian, I feel dreadful for your cousin, Frederick. Losing his wife and child in such a manner must have devastated him.”
“Perhaps.” Sebastian could not have her entertaining falsehoods about Frederick’s character. “Though we told you we do not know who actually poisoned Marni’s drink, I feel Frederick played a part. He has never been a blameless sort. When we were boys, he kept himself in the middle of every calamity, no matter its extent.”
“You think he is capable of murdering his own wife and child?”
“As Sebastian said,” Olivia whispered. “Frederick tried to save the child.”
“Yes.” Her mother fanned her face. “An image I will not soon erase from my mind.”
“None of us can.” Olivia shifted on the seat toward Sebastian. “I am so tired. Can we continue this discussion later? Maybe after supper?”
Her mother stood. “Of course. I will take you to your bedchamber. It is just as you left it. The men can stay behind and plot as men do.”
Sebastian helped Olivia to her feet. “I will join you shortly.” He kissed her cheek and allowed her mother to lead her away.
Boden tapped his hand soundly on the mantel and watched them leave. As soon as they were gone from view, his eyes moved to Sebastian. “We must prepare for war.”
His blatant remark caught Sebastian by surprise, but he could not argue against it. “Your daughter believes she ruined my life, but it is I who destroyed hers. How can I make this rig
ht?”
“You cannot change what has happened. When you first came to us, I did not want to accept your involvement with her. But I have learned to trust that God brought you here for a reason. We cannot challenge God.”
“A plan He has laid out which we have not yet seen?” Sebastian leaned against the wall, facing the man.
“Yes.” The king’s face shadowed over. “Perhaps the prophecies will come to light after all this time.”
Sebastian folded his arms and studied him. His assumptions of the man were true. “You believe Olivia is the woman in Masa’s prophecy.”
Boden grinned. “You know of Masa?”
“Of course. We have a book of his writings. I have read every prophetic word time and again. Nearly all his predictions have come to pass, save the greatest. That of the female warrior who will end all wars and reign supreme.”
Boden’s eyes shifted downward, and he drew invisible lines on the mantel as if scrolling words. “Not until the earth runs red, and every king is lying dead.” He lifted his eyes. “I do not care for that particular part.” He released a muffled chuckle. “If I abdicate my throne and give it to Olivia, maybe I will not have to die to fulfill the prophecy.”
Sebastian pictured images of his own father, lying in blood as Olivia had envisioned. He refused to believe any of it and shook his head. “It cannot be her. She has never wielded a weapon, and her archery is sorely lacking.”
“Maybe so. But we do not know when this prophecy will come to pass. By the time she ascends to power, she may be quite skilled.” He moved in close and stared into Sebastian’s eyes. “No one can force or deny a prophecy. They happen at will by God’s command. If Olivia is the one foretold, we must stand behind her.”
“And prepare for war.” The words fell from Sebastian’s mouth without thought.
King Boden solemnly nodded.
It seemed Severin would do exactly what he had been trained for. Sebastian needed his help to build an army.
The men of Padrida had a lot to learn.
Sebastian walked the familiar hallway to Olivia’s room. No guard stood outside her chamber door, but up until now, Padrida held no threats. That had changed, and from this day on, Sebastian would see to it that a sentry would always be near his wife.
He eased the door open and went in. Not surprising, he found her sleeping. Growing a child had taken much out of her.
They had several hours before the evening meal, so he removed his outer garments and lay beside her. She blissfully moaned and draped an arm over his torso.
“I hope that is you, Sebastian,” she mumbled, without opening her eyes.
“Who else would it be?” He kissed her forehead, and she cuddled closer.
“I have been doing a great deal of thinking,” she whispered.
“I assumed you had been asleep all this time.”
Her head lifted, and her eyes fluttered open. “No. I have been dozing in and out of slumber. My mind cannot rest.”
“Can I help? I am happy to give your back a generous rubbing if it would ease you.”
“It sounds wonderful, but not now.” She lifted herself up on one elbow. “I feel so weak, and it troubles me.”
“You are with child. Women in your condition are expected to be fragile.”
“Perhaps so, but I do not care for it.” She tapped a hand on her stomach. “I love our baby, but I do not want to feel helpless. I understand I am in no condition at the moment to train, but …”
Train?
Sebastian’s heart thumped.
“Once the baby comes,” she went on, “I want you to teach me how to wield a sword. If the need should I arise, I must be able to defend myself.”
“I can defend you.” He had to convince her otherwise. “Women were not made for swordplay.” Olivia could not be the woman of Masa’s prophecy. It would mean all the realms would be at war, and Sebastian could not fathom the amount of horrific bloodshed.
She smiled. “My sweet protector. As much as I always want you by my side, I have to be reasonable. You could be needed elsewhere. And though women, as a rule, are softer than men, I can become strong. Will you teach me?”
He swallowed hard. How could he refuse her? “Yes. But not until well after our child’s birth. You must give your body time to heal.”
She fondled his beard, and he shuddered.
“I will,” she said, grinning. “I can also enlist Severin to help with my archery. I have seen him shoot. He is as brilliant as Jonah.”
The sensations she created with her teasing hand were fighting the fear she had rendered with every word she uttered. “We shall see.” He held her firmly.
“You are shivering, Sebastian. Are you cold?”
“No. Have you forgotten how you make me feel when you touch my beard in that manner?” Somehow, he had to hide what had truly made him tremble.
She scooted up and kissed him. “We have never coupled in my bed. Do you desire it?”
“Always.”
No armies currently stood outside the gates of Padrida. No threats hovered close. The hour had not yet come to fight, so he cast aside every other thought and focused on her beautiful face.
He loved on her with all of himself. Body and mind, until they both fell into a deep slumber.
Chapter 29
“You can do this, Rosalie!” Olivia hovered above her. “Push!”
“I do not want to!” Rosalie smacked at the healer’s hand. “Leave me be!”
Sweet Rosalie was not in her right mind, but the aged healer scowled at her poor behavior. “If you strike me again, I will leave and you can deliver this child without me.”
Olivia had been home only two weeks. When she first saw Rosalie, Olivia feared she would deliver at that very moment. Rosalie had been so thrilled to see her, she had buckled at the knees. Fortunately, in that instance, she quickly recovered and they had settled in as old friends. Rosalie had shared all the details of what Olivia could expect of her pregnancy in the coming months.
This, however, was highly unpleasant. Olivia prayed she would not have the same difficulties.
Rosalie burst out crying. “It hurts!”
“You are fighting your own body,” the healer mumbled. “Now, do as I say. Breathe deeply, and when the next pain comes, push, for God’s sake.”
Olivia laid a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps I should leave.”
“No!” Rosalie rose up slightly on the bed. “If you go, I will refuse to push.”
“Then, as your future queen, I command you to do what the healer requires.” Olivia sat on the edge of the bed.
“Very well.” Rosalie puffed out a series of breaths. Her sweat-streaked red hair lay plastered to her face. “Another pain!”
Olivia put an arm beneath her and helped her raise up.
The healer kneeled on the bed between Rosalie’s bent legs. “Push!”
Rosalie groaned and her eyes squinted tightly shut. She gritted her teeth and bore down.
“Oh, my,” the healer muttered. “Such a mass of red hair.”
Olivia craned her neck to see. Indeed, the baby’s hair-covered head protruded from between Rosalie’s legs.
“Good girl,” Olivia said and kissed her damp cheek. “Another push like that one and your child will be born.”
Rosalie whimpered. “Can the healer not pull it out?”
The old man shook his head. “You must expel the child. You may not be aware, but you are performing proficiently.”
Rosalie blew out a series of breaths and lifted up, straining to see. “Is it a boy or girl?”
“I know not,” the healer droned. “I cannot yet see the necessary parts.”
Olivia dipped a rag into a pan of water and dabbed it across Rosalie’s brow. Almost instantly, her features tightened.
“Another pain,” Rosalie moaned.
The healer cupped his hands over the baby’s head. “Push, please.”
Again, Olivia helped her sit more upright, while she strain
ed and bore down.
“Good!” The healer actually smiled.
The sight that came next would forever remain in Olivia’s mind. He withdrew the wet, blood-covered infant from Rosalie and turned it over his arm. “Highness, pass me that cloth.”
She handed it over, and he wiped off the little face and swabbed the baby’s mouth. He then soundly swatted its tiny behind, and it squalled.
“My baby?” Rosalie reached for it.
“Yes, it is yours.” The healer chuckled and lay the infant on Rosalie’s chest. “It is certainly not mine.” He grabbed a knife and cut the cord. Olivia had been told it acted as the child’s lifeline to its mother, while in the womb.
Olivia took the cloth and wet it again. “You have a little girl. A perfect, beautiful baby girl.” She washed away all the blood from the infant’s small form.
“Olive,” Rosalie whispered. Tears trickled down her cheeks.
Olivia tried to ignore the healer as he went about removing the afterbirth and placed her attention on the miracle that had just transpired. “Olive?”
“Yes.” Rosalie repositioned the squirming, crying baby. “I told you, if we had a girl, we would name her after you, but it does not seem right to give her your name in its entirety. Does Olive suffice?”
“How can you ask? I am honored.” Olivia grabbed the delicate blanket they had set aside specifically for the baby and wrapped it around her. “Should we not inform Dane of his daughter’s birth?”
“Please.” Rosalie looked up at Olivia. “Thank you for being here.”
The healer gathered up a mass of blood-soaked linens. “I shall take these to the laundress. Childbirth is a messy affair, but Rosalie did well. I pray you have the same fortune, Highness.”
“As do I.”
Olivia walked with him from the cottage and found Sebastian and Dane waiting close to the door.
The healer nodded at them and walked away.
Dane’s face turned as white as the Thanwinian snow, and he pointed at the man. “Why was there so much blood on those sheets? Is my wife dead?”
“No.” Olivia rubbed his arm. “Though exhausted, she is very much alive. As is your daughter.”
