Aurora nodded then she said softly, “I see their point, though it is stolen from Lunwyn and known to be sought after so they had to know, if they didn’t guard it closely, it would be detected and returned to its rightful land.” Her eyes on him grew intense. “But, Drakkar, I’ve known Broderick since he was born. He has far more of his mother in him than he does his father. He adores Finnie. He always has. I can’t imagine, even for power and coin –”
Drakkar cut her off. “He was soft with her during our conversation with him and her father and this appeared genuine.” Aurora nodded but Drakkar went on. “He was soft with her, Aurora, but I noted as did a number of my men that Phobin couldn’t take his eyes off her and we both know he was not admiring her beauty.” Aurora eyes flashed quickly before she nodded again. “And Phobin, it is told, has Broderick spellbound. He shows Prince Broderick one face, others an entirely different one.”
Aurora nodded again and whispered, “We should look into Phobin.”
Drakkar returned her nod and replied, “I will send a message to Balthazar.” Then he noted, “However, we may not need to concern ourselves with this. If Ludlum and especially Noctorno hear that Middleland is vulnerable –”
Aurora interrupted him. “Word from Bellebryn is that Noctorno has reconciled with his wife.”
Drakkar couldn’t stop his blink at this news for he knew Tor, very well, they were friends, he held him in high regard and Drakkar knew Tor detested his wife regardless of the fact she was destined for him, it was written in the sky at each of their births by the She-God of their land. They’d been married for some time, Drakkar was even at their wedding, and Tor’s wife was exceptionally beautiful but visibly cold and nothing about her manner would be something that attracted Tor. They had spent just enough time together to consummate the union and lived separate lives since with Tor not keen to change that.
“We were, as you may not have known,” Aurora continued, “scheduled to journey to Hawkvale for Prince Noctorno’s brother’s wedding but we had to cancel due to the situation with Finnie and then the imminent executions. We have heard since that, for reasons I do not know, that wedding has been postponed but in the meantime, Noctorno has reconciled with his wife and installed her in his castle in Bellebryn.”
“Interesting,” Drakkar muttered.
“Indeed,” Aurora replied. “And it is known he is actively working on siring an heir to Bellebryn and Hawkvale.”
Drakkar grinned and Aurora’s lips again twitched.
Then Drakkar’s grin faded and he asked, “Is it known if he is happy?”
She shook her head but said, “It is known that Princess Cora is much changed and she is the talk of Bellebryn and Hawkvale, enough for that talk to make it here. They are calling her Cora, the Gracious.”
Drakkar found that difficult to believe. She had been known as Cora, the Exquisite for her beauty. During his brief meeting with her at her wedding to his friend, however, she was far from gracious.
“So, I suppose the answer to your question is, yes,” Aurora carried on. “It is said he is greatly taken with her… finally.”
Drakkar nodded.
Aurora kept speaking. “It is also known that you are actively working on siring an heir.”
Drakkar’s grin came back but Aurora simply regarded him closely.
“Is there aught to report with that?” she asked.
“Not yet but soon, my queen, I hope Finnie and I will have good news.”
Her eyes softened and her lips tipped up before she shared on a whisper, “I watch her with your boy, Skylar. She will make a good mother, my new son.”
“Yes,” Drakkar stated, “she will.”
She lifted a hand and touched his arm lightly before dropping it and saying softly, “I await your good news.”
“And I look forward to imparting it,” Drakkar returned softly and at that, the door flew open and Finnie rushed in, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, smile firm on her face.
She skidded to a halt several steps in, shared her smile with both of them then her eyes fixed on her mother and she cried, “Let’s… go… skating!”
Bloody hell, his bride hadn’t even taken off her cloak from riding obstacles on her new horse and she was ready to go off on her next escapade.
He studied her bright eyes and pink cheeks, thinking, By the gods, I love this woman.
Then he crossed his arms on his chest and stated, “Before you’re off to break your ankle, wife, your husband will take a kiss.”
She moved to him swiftly, replying, “I’m not going to break my ankle, Frey.”
“Sprain it then,” he returned as she made it to him, curled her fingers around his forearm and leaned her body into his.
“Not that either,” she retorted.