Clarysa wiped at her tears, and then held up five swollen fingers.
“Five hours?” But then why did he feel so exhausted?
Clarysa shook her head. “Not five hours, dearest, five days!”
Stellan was speechless, unable to fully absorb this information. He didn’t try. Instead, he grasped her hand. “What’s wrong with your fingers? Are they injured?”
Clarysa shook her head. “I’ve been helping with cleanup while the healers attended to the injured.”
Stellan swallowed hard. Lionel! It all came back to him. Her cousin, his friend, now savagely injured. “How is Lionel?” Stellan asked, fearing the worst.
“He pulled through. And now you have as well–oh, I’m so happy you’re both alive!” She leaned forward and soundly kissed his cheek.
Stellan relished the feel of her warm lips, but a wave of guilt chased it away all too quickly. “Clarysa, I apologize deeply about Lionel’s ordeal, and everything you’ve suffered as a result.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “If the recent events have been too stressful and you want to return home to the safety of your father’s palace–well, I understand. You deserve so much better than a life of pain and grief.” He gritted his teeth, bracing for her response.
Clarysa grasped his shoulders. Her fresh tears reflected the flickering of a nearby torch. “What are you saying? I am home!”
They gazed at each other, ignoring the sounds of footfalls and whispers as Lionel and Ghyslain peeked in to check on them. After they had gone, Clarysa stepped back and wiped her eyes. “You should eat something to regain your strength. I’ll fetch you a meal from the kitchen.”
“No.” Stellan braced an arm against the bed frame. “I should move around. I’ll come with you.”
“If you’re sure.”
Leaning on her shoulder, he accompanied her to the kitchen. Gretchen was curled up on a chair before the roaring hearth, tucked beneath a colorful blanket and snoring.
Stellan sank his weary bones into a chair. Clarysa placed a bowl of steaming soup on the table before him. Hunger sparked fiercely in his gut, and he gulped the sustenance down as quickly. “Did you make this?” he asked.
Clarysa nodded.
He sighed. “I have reduced you to a common scullery maid.” He grasped her hand tightly across the table. “But I’d like some more, please.”
Clarysa smiled brightly at him, and the aches in his bones lessened. She served him again, and then thrice, and in that way, so passed the remainder of the night.
Chapter 43
Eight days after Stellan awoke, he, Clarysa, Lionel and Edward led a procession of their folk through the Snowflake Kingdom, past Dungeon Forest, and across the western border of Aldebaran. They brought with them the bodies of the deceased Aldebaran soldiers for burial.
Patrulha’s remains had been recovered and now lay in a coffin deep under the snow beneath the great shadow of Vandeborg. A small, private funeral had been all he and Gretchen wanted. After a period of repair and cleanup, the survivors had turned to other matters.
Stellan had sent word ahead by messenger of their journey to Aldebaran, as well as to announce the coming nuptials. He and Clarysa wed in a morning ceremony under a canopy of cherry trees. Afterward, everyone celebrated the union as the bright sun shone overhead. The feasting and dancing lasted far into the afternoon.
Before Lionel returned to Belleressort, he took Stellan and Clarysa aside in a huddle. “Listen closely, because what I have to say is extremely important.”
Stellan nodded solemnly. Clarysa stared at her cousin, an unreadable expression on her face.
Lionel’s grip upon Stellan’s shoulder tightened. “I want both of you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” Stellan responded.
Clarysa raised a delicate brow.
Lionel moistened his lips. “I want you to have many children, and you must promise to name at least three of them after me.”
Lionel’s earnest expression left Stellan dumbfounded. Was the request some kind of Aldebaran tradition? What have I gotten myself into?
Clarysa grinned and punched her cousin on the arm. “As full of yourself as ever, I see!”
Stellan chuckled. “Well played, my friend.”
“Indeed. You should have seen the look on your face!”
As Lionel doubled over with laughter, Clarysa patted Stellan’s back in a sympathetic fashion. “Welcome to the family.”
* * * *
Clarysa had insisted that her and Stellan’s first night together be spent at Vandeborg, so after a brief rest they prepared for the return journey. Servants packed several wagons’ worth of goods and amenities, with more to be sent in the following days. As the couple made a final check, Stellan took note of the soldier guarding one of the wagons. He called Clarysa to his side.
“What’s all this?” he asked, fingering the gold clasp of an ornate chest. Several more like it filled the wagon’s interior.
“See for yourself.” She withdrew a set of keys and opened one. It brimmed and sparkled with gold, jewels and all kinds of precious metals.
Stellan took a step back. “What is this? What’s it for?”
Clarysa looked at him in amusement. “It’s my dowry.”
“What?”
She giggled. “Didn’t you know?”
Stellan shook his head. “No. No, take it back. All of it.” He shot her an anxious look. “I didn’t marry you for your wealth. I’ll not have them think that.”
Clarysa smiled. “Stellan, it’s all right! This is completely routine.”
“But I can provide whatever you need. Make them take it back!”
“Here, now, listen.” She bade him to sit on the wagon’s edge so his face was level with hers. “Husband, let me make one point very clear.” She kissed him, firmly and quite long, ignoring the attendants who tittered in the background.
After a minute or so, she paused to speak. “Stellan,” she whispered, “you could be the wealthiest king in the Five Lands, and I’d still bring a dowry. It’s tradition. Besides, even if you don’t care about it for yourself, think about Gretchen. Think about Ghyslain and Froll and the others. They’ve sacrificed so much for you.” She stroked his cheek. “Never again will they have to worry about where their next meal is coming from. Never again.”
Stellan nodded,
