Page 98 of The Thornwyck Rose

She brushed his lower lip with her finger, eyes drinking in his face.

“I wished for a life not mine. I did,” she said, cheeks flushing. “But you. You can have the life you wish for. Find another woman, Erik. You deserve peace.”

“I’ve already pledged my love and loyalty to you, Seren,” he whispered, and turned into her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“You will live a lonely life if you keep your pledge,” Seren said, pulling his face closer.

He rested his forehead against hers.

“Henry made sure it would always be lonely,” Erik whispered. “Both you and Astrid have and will suffer at my hand and his order. No other will. I will love you, only you, until the end of my life.”

Their lips brushed—barely. Her breathwas warm against his skin. He wanted to dive against her, hold her tight, but she whispered, each beat a thud against the thick of his lip, “Don’t make me more of a sinner than I already am. Don’t make it harder for us on that day.”

Removing the temptation of going against her wishes, he shifted and kissed her bruised cheek with tenderness, how a man should kiss his wife.

He bent to her ear. “If I fight against your homeland, will you still choose me, Valkyrie?”

“Always,” she whispered—and kissed his cheek, just enough for her lips to graze his.

That was her line, her boundary as a married woman, and he would respect it, though every part of him ached to press his lips to hers in a final seal of his commitment to her and her legacy.

Godric knocked softly, a signal that Geoffrey was coming back.

They were out of time, so he drew from his pouch one of the two wooden kingcups he’d carved on his six-month sentence so long ago and tucked it into her hand. It was a symbol of his unfading, unwithered love.

He murmured, “May the years he is gone bring you peace, Seren.”

She whispered, “Carry my star,” she touched his shoulder where she’d stitched it, “and I will have peace.”

“Always,” he said, brushing her lips—just barely once more—as a small glimpse of what could never be.

Erik placed a slow kiss on her forehead and pulled back to gaze into her eyes as he stroked her face.

“Go,” she whispered, eyes full and fingers wrapping his trinket.

She released him just as Godric shifted at the door.

Erik removed his arm from beneath Seren’s shoulders. He didn’t want to leave her, not yet. So he said aloud as some pitiful excuse to stay near her side, “Ensure you use cool water for the bruise.”

Margot, still turned, responded, not missing the cue. “It will be done, Commander.”

Godric grunted and cleared his throat. His shadow fell into the room.

Erik straightened so Godric would not see him bent to their lord’s wife. “We don’t want her worse when Lord Henry returns.”

Margot finally turned. “Yes, Commander.”

“Return to us, Erik,” Seren whispered.

His hand slid from her shoulder to her side, pressing her gently to him; his back hid his movements.

“Keep her in bed until she can walk without faltering.”

Margot nodded. “We will care for her, Commander.”

A knock. Erik moved his hand to the edge of the bed.

Geoffrey’s shadow fell long over Seren’s face.