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“With a child in the not-so-distant future,” I began, smiling, “I was thinking of your own childhood. How much Tyzar meant to you and your own hopes for his return to Sarroth. If not him, if the memories are too painful for him, then perhaps his children. Perhaps our child will be a blood born, if they want that, and maybe your line and Tyzar’s can be joined once again.”
He pressed his forehead to mine. My husband was not one to show emotion readily, but I saw how much my words affected him. His shoulders were bunched, and he held himself very still, the want pouring out of him.
“You speak of a future that only seems like a dream to me,” he whispered, closing his eyes. I cupped his cheek, holding him close. “The sweetest of dreams. And a future I will hope for. Ardently.”
“Dreams have a way of becoming reality,” I reminded him. “At least in my experience.”
“Yes,” he replied, opening his eyes. “And so it will, my queen.”
I smiled.
“I love you,” Sarkin murmured. “Every day I am surprised by how much more that love grows.”
“Let it,” I told him, “because my love for you is a wild thing, and I have stopped trying to tame it.”
I pressed a kiss to his lips, purposefully chaste.
“Now, we really should prepare for our guests,” I teased.
My husband chuckled. “If we must, aralye. But later, in the early hours of morning, you’re all mine. Lysi?”
“Lysi.”