Dreamer of Briarfell - Lucy Tempest Page 0,103

that still lay ahead of me, of us, they didn’t matter. We’d just surmount them together.

I reached out to brush a sandy curl off his forehead as I’d been longing to since I’d first seen his face. “Try not to do that with any witnesses around. I can’t have you locked away for treason before our marriage can offer you immunity.”

His eyebrows shot up, his expression at once stunned, elated and mischievous. “Are you proposing to me?”

“Do you accept my proposal?” I cupped his face with both hands, reveling in my return to my body, our closeness, and the possibility of all that I had thought unreachable before.

Robin put his hands over mine, palms rough and lined with bowstring scars. “I’ll accept whatever ensures that I’ll never find you gone ever again. I’ve lost too much in life and I survived. But I’d rather die than lose you.”

My tears ran free as I wiped at one that escaped his vivid eyes, smearing it over an enchanting cluster of freckles. Then I reached up to trace the pointed tip of his ear, a shuddering breath escaping me as he closed his eyes in relief at my touch. What I had once thought features worth disdain and mistrust, had become most fascinating and beloved, only because they were parts of him.

“I’d rather die than be without you, too,” I said, rising on my toes to return his life-saving kiss.

Long have I dreamt of this moment, wondering whether it would be like the ballads and books describe. All the elements were there, the brave warrior on the white horse had ridden in the nick of time to the tower, and saved the slumbering princess with true love’s kiss.

But as our lips touched, I knew that stories, like those told about Robin Hood, were only a mere fraction of the truth.

No songs or ballads could do this moment, this love and devotion, this happiness, justice.

Not that they wouldn’t try. I would. I had a lifetime now, thanks to my noblest of men, to try.

We parted, stared at each other, and smiled so widely, it hurt.

Then we were laughing, and laughing. Free, alive, and with a whole life full of adventures ahead of us.

At one point, we left Briarfell behind, with me steering Amabel, and Robin giving me directions in my first horseback ride throughout the lands of my kingdom.

We rode towards the sun, following its trek across the sky, heading into our future together.

Epilogue

Six Months Later

From the wings of the Eglantine opera house, I could see rows upon rows of guests from all over the kingdom and beyond. They were here to attend the first showing of The Verdant Vigilante, high society’s first foray into musical theater.

Halfway between a play and an operetta, it was a rushed job that I would perfect later. Tonight was a test to gauge responses to my efforts.

All the proceeds from this initial run would go to a charity Robin and I had founded, to help the wounded, widows, and orphans of war. If this experiment was successful, every idea I’d realize would continue as such.

My first go at the stage had begun with guest performances in established operas, to live out my dream of performing. It had proved a great draw for the nobility who wanted to see the princess sing, and ticket sales had risen to unprecedented levels. The sizable chunk I was owed had gone to the families my uncle had wronged. Safe to say, he’d found this offensive, and was not in attendance tonight.

The rest of my family though, was in the top box. They sat with Leander, Bonnie, Lord Gestum, and his wife Jessamine, who had their five-month-old son in her lap, named after Robin for his catalytic role in their previously-thought-impossible marriage.

“Are you going to watch the whole show from the wings?”

I turned, found Robin with his leaf-embellished green-and-gold coat over his arm, and glasses of sparkling cider in his hands. His tie was loosened and his hair had no semblance of the tidiness I had wrangled it into earlier.

“You couldn’t go one hour looking presentable?”

“Your family and their friends won’t form a higher opinion of me, so who’s there to impress?”

“Me,” I said in mock disapproval.

He handed me my glass as he brushed his nose against mine. “Liar. You like me like this.”

I chuckled an agreement, unable not to brush a kiss on his lips. “You could still make the effort. This is my big night.”

“Your real big night will be when

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