The Heart of a Queen (A Historical Romance)

Epilogue

A week later, when the emissaries and diplomats had left, when the castle was empty of visiting kings and neighboring princes, Llewellyn and Brienna were wed.

Lasair had remained to see the occasion through, and helped Brienna dress. This time, her charge sat still enough for her to make up her hair in elaborate braids that shone like rippling black glass, offsetting the pure white of her gown. They shared a tearful moment—a joyous one—before going down to the great hall.

Isobel met her on the stairs and handed her a bouquet. Brienna checked—no dagger. Her new sister kissed her on the cheek and they entered the hall together.

This time, instead of a cluster of instruments, there was only Geoffrey playing daintily on the lute. The only other people in the hall were Ruarc, Ulf, Madoc, and the priest.

And Llewellyn, waiting for her, standing tall and proud, his eyes lit by warmth, affection, and what Brienna had come to recognize as freedom; the freedom of choosing for himself after a lifetime of putting the needs of Gwynedd above his own.

The priest kept the service short, as requested, and afterward they took a basket of food and had a picnic in the meadow, the sun beaming on their shoulders, the breeze from the sea soft and caressing for once.

Miraculously, a messenger had arrived the day before to inform Brienna and Ruarc that their father had turned a corner and was recovering; he had received the news of her union with Llewellyn and claimed that his joy at their union had bolstered his health as well as his spirits. Brienna sent a message back insisting that he visit as soon as he felt well enough to make the journey.

While they ate, Llewellyn talked about going on progress, visiting the villages spread across the kingdom in order to show off his new bride; Brienna would be going with him.

"It looks like you are losing your loyal handmaiden, Isobel," he apologized.

"I will have to make do, I suppose, and go about with messy hair and untied shoes, as before."

"Well, I wouldn't want that," Llewellyn said, thinking. "You must elect another, and soon. Of course ladies-in-waiting are rather hard to find at short notice. Perhaps you could promote one of the kitchen girls?"

Brienna grinned at Isobel, who blushed. She suspected Moira would be very pleased with her new post.

They didn't leave the meadow until the light was waning in the sky, and everyone was full and happy. Llewellyn and Brienna walked back to the castle, their pace picking up as they neared it, eager to be, at last, alone together.

Inside, he scooped her up, and carried her up the stairs and to his chambers, where she'd never been before. She thought of how she was when she first arrived in Wales. There had been so many places she'd never been, things she hadn't done, experiences she hadn't had, and she didn't even know it. Now, she and Llewellyn were beginning a new life together, and even more doors were opening.

Deftly, Llewellyn opened the door to his chambers. Before they entered, he smiled rakishly at her and kissed her softly on the lips. When they'd met, she'd been a silly girl, a cowslip. As he took her to his bed, carrying her tenderly in his two arms, she felt every bit a woman. In her chest, she knew, beat the heart of a Queen.

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