“Enough.” Gwen rubbed her stomach. “I want to have positive thoughts about today.”
“Of course. Sorry.” Sorcha exchanged a sheepish look with her cousin.
After hearing the general’s conversation with his son, Sorcha had quickly passed on the information to Silas and Gwen. Then, with newly inspired determination, she’d joined the army and spent the last two weeks laboring hard to learn her combat skills. She was now battered and bruised, but fairly adept at defending herself.
She and Annika had been named Queen Gwennore’s official ladies-in-waiting, but in reality, they were her bodyguards. Even now, they were both in uniform with daggers strapped to their thighs and hidden in their boots.
“I don’t care what Silas says,” Sorcha told Gwen. “I’m going on that bridge with you.”
Annika nodded. “Me, too.”
Gwen’s eyes glimmered with tears as she looked at them. “What would I do without you two?”
Sorcha sighed. Gwen seemed to cry over nothing these days.
“When I think about how much Silas and I love each other and how much we want this baby”—Gwen looked down at her belly—“I can’t imagine the pain and hardship my mother went through. The man she loved was executed. Her newborn baby was ripped from her arms and sent away. Then she was locked in a tower for seven years. How does someone survive that much cruelty?”
Sorcha wasn’t sure how to respond, for she wasn’t convinced the sad story was even true. Granted, she had very little experience with elves, but from what she did know of them, it seemed abundantly clear that they could not be trusted. “We only have the general’s word that your mother suffered,” she began quietly, but Gwen shook her head.
“My mother explained everything.” Gwen reached across the table to open the jeweled keepsake box that she had brought with her on the journey. “It’s all in here.” She removed the letter her mother had written.
“May I?” Sorcha extended a hand.
Gwen paused a minute, then passed her the letter. “It’s in Elfish, but you should be able to understand it.”
Sorcha unfolded the paper and quickly scanned the contents. It did, indeed, chronicle a tragic story as Gwen’s mother described the heart-wrenching pain of being separated from her baby, and how she’d spent the last twenty-one years missing her daughter and praying daily for her safety and wellbeing.
Gwen watched her carefully. “What do you think?”
Sorcha hesitated. Knowing Gwen as well as she did, she figured her sister had focused on the words and their meaning. But Sorcha had always been better at artwork than composition. She leaned back in her chair and eyed the letter from the viewpoint of an artist.
The script was elegant and flowing. Bold and carefree. Not what she would expect from someone who had been imprisoned or suffered for many years. It made her suspicious, but then again, she could be letting her distrust of elves color her interpretation.
She knew all too well that she and her sisters had grown up with the pain of having been abandoned as wee babes. Fortunately for Sorcha, she’d learned several months ago that her mother had sent her away to protect her from a curse and a plague. Knowing that her mother had always loved her meant the world to Sorcha.
Of course Gwennore wanted the same for herself. Who wouldn’t? The hopeful look on her face tugged painfully at Sorcha’s heart. It would be petty to let her suspicions spoil what might turn out to be a beautiful and joyful reunion.
She folded the letter and handed it back. “It seems sincere.”
“I think so, too.” With a smile, Gwen returned the letter to her keepsake box.
Please don’t let her be hurt, Sorcha prayed to the twin moon goddesses.
“Your Majesty?” Aleksi’s voice called from the entrance to the tent. “Permission to enter?”
“Yes,” Gwennore responded.
Sorcha rose to her feet, worried that something had gone wrong with the plan, but to her surprise, the captain entered with his arms filled with flowers.
He bowed his head, his nose bumping into a bouquet of yellow and orange blossoms. “Your Majesty, my ladies, I . . . I . . . ah . . . ahchoo!”
Petals flew at Gwen’s face, and she sat back.
“Is this a new method of attack?” Sorcha asked wryly.
“Forgive me.” Aleksi bowed his head again. “Where can I put . . . ahchoo!”
“For Light’s sake, get your nose out of them.” Jumping to her feet, Annika grabbed the now-bedraggled flowers and dumped them on the table.
Gwennore smiled at the captain. “Since Annika and I are both happily married, I can only assume that you intend Princess Sorcha to be the recipient of your lovely gift?”
Aleksi’s eyes widened, and Sorcha groaned inwardly. Gwen was still trying her hand at matchmaking. As fond as Sorcha was of Aleksi, he had always seemed like an older brother to her. Much the same as Brody.
Aleksi shifted his weight as he shot an awkward look at Sorcha. “Well, if Her Highness wants some flowers—”
“I don’t,” Sorcha grumbled.
Gwen gave Sorcha a disapproving glance at her refusal to cooperate. “Surely there is something that Aleksi could do that would impress you.”
Sorcha thought about it, then smiled. “I’d like to go for another flight.” He’d taken her for a dragon ride once, and she’d loved it.
He grinned. “We can do that.”
“Excellent.” Gwen exchanged a knowing smirk with Annika.
Sorcha rolled her eyes. No doubt the two of them thought romance was in the air. Aleksi was a handsome young man, but he could never pierce the defenses of her locked up and closely guarded heart. No man could. “So why did you bring all these flowers?”
“They’re for Her Majesty,” Aleksi explained. “A group of women and their husbands came from Vorushka and asked me to deliver the flowers to the queen. The women are all with child now, and they and their husbands asked me to convey their gratitude.”
Gwennore rose to her feet, her eyes wide. “The tonic worked?”
“Yes!” Annika punched the air with her fist. “We did it!”
With a happy squeal, Gwen hugged Annika; then Sorcha embraced them both. The tonic, invented by Gwen and Annika, had been made in hopes of reversing the effects of a plague that had rendered most Norveshki women infertile.
“Congratulations,” Aleksi said, grinning at them.
“Oh.” Annika stepped back, releasing Gwen. “You should rest. You were nauseated before.”
Gwen shook her head. “I feel much better now.” She snatched up some flowers and tossed them in the air. “This is going to be a wonderful day!”
With a laugh, Sorcha tossed more flowers in the air. Petals rained down on them, landing on their hair and shoulders.
Aleksi grabbed a bunch of flowers to join them just as Silas and Dimitri marched into the tent. He immediately stood at attention, along with Annika and Sorcha, but when he thumped his fist to his chest in salute, he crushed the flowers against his leather breastplate. “Ahchoo!”
Silas gave him a wry look, then glanced at the women.
Gwennore beamed at him. “We can explain.”
Sorcha brushed the petals off her long braid of hair. “A bunch of grateful women gave the flowers to Aleksi. They’re with child now.”