Smiling in return, Stefan peered around the room and called out, “Thania? Love?”
The door to the adjoining sitting room opened, light pooling in to match that from the glass lamps adorning the room’s walls. In glided Thania, radiant as ever, her hair falling in velvet waves down past the mounds of her tanned bosom and the deep V-neck of her layered silk dress with its many ruffles. Between her ample cleavage rested the twin to his pendant. To add to her appearance, she’d made up her face with powders and paints the way he liked. Upon her entry, Stefan’s pendant bloomed with warmth. Thania did not appear an hour past twenty-five naming days. She was perfect. Blue always looked best on her.
“My love,” she said, all sweet innocence, a smile that would brighten the dreariest day lighting up her face.
The thoughts of the King, the children, and all else fled Stefan’s mind. In several brisk steps, he strode to her and swept her from her feet. She smelled of saffron and bellflowers. He gazed into the golden pools of her eyes and kissed her deeply. Soft lips, so soft, like spun silk, greeted his chapped monstrosities. He couldn’t tell how long the kiss lasted but it felt like forever as her tongue played against his own and on his lips, moistening them. When he let her go for a moment to stare into her eyes, they were both breathless.
The pinging noise came again, and Stefan glanced down. The boy stood there knocking on his armor. Next to him was the girl.
Innocent eyes peered back up at him then over to Thania. “Mommy, who is this?”
The familiarity struck Stefan then, and he gasped, releasing his wife. Except for the green eyes, the child, no, both children were splitting images of her.
“Yes,” Thania said. “They are my … no, correction, they are our children. Stefan, this is your son, Anton and your daughter Celina.”
Stefan promptly sat on the floor, armor and all.
CHAPTER 8
“How?” Stefan stared dumbly. “How can I have children when I wasn’t here for three years?”
A cough came from Perta’s direction. “My lord, my lady … if it is not too much, I beg your leave.”
“Yes, you may go,” Thania said.
The two infants were clutching her dress. As doubtful as he felt, Stefan could see some of him in them, and they certainly had his eyes.
“As to how,” Thania said, “The last night before you left …”
Stefan remembered well. Passionate did not quite begin to describe their lovemaking. Raunchy, salacious, maybe lecherous would be a better word. He flushed. Not once that night did he attempt to hold back.
“Twins,” he whispered. He rolled the word around on his tongue. “Praise Ilumni.” A sudden outpouring of love almost overwhelmed him. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he allowed the sobs to come. “Thank you, Ilumni. In your light I walk.” Then he began to laugh, low in his throat at first until he bellowed with joy and thumped the floor where he sat.
“Go to your father, children,” Thania said.
Stefan held out his hands, but neither Anton nor Celina moved. They both still held fast to their mother’s dress, eyes wide and bewildered. A stab of pain built in his chest. If only he’d been there for them since their birth. If only he’d been there to see them born.
A rustle of movement from Thania made him look up at her. She was clutching the charm, and her eyes narrowed for a moment. Stefan knew she was Materforging.
A moment later, an image sprang to life next to her. Standing a foot taller than her, lean and broad-shouldered, dressed in the crisp uniform of a newly promoted Knight, it was Stefan’s exact likeness of the pendant down to his dark green eyes. His hair was a little longer and his face had the vigor of youth, but it was him all the same.
The children giggled and as one said, “Da.” Their gazes went from the image to Stefan, their eyes twinkled, and the next moment they were leaping into his arms. The image winked out.
Tears streamed down Stefan’s cheeks. Before he could stop, he was openly sobbing with joy. He hugged his children tighter, reveling in their smell and warmth.
The boy, Anton, pushed back from him a little and peered into his face. Brow knitting, he said, “Da, you sads? Why you crying?”
Stefan pulled him close. “No, son. I’m not sad. I’m very happy. I have never been happier in my entire life because I have you and your sister.” He took in Thania’s beaming face. Their gazes locked. He mouthed, “Thank you. I love you.”
She whispered. “I love you too.” Thania hiked up her dress and joined them on the floor, one hand around Stefan’s back and the other hugging Celina.
While enjoying the feel of his new family, basking in how complete he felt inside after so many years he and Thania spent avoiding the prospect of children, a sense of dread crept within Stefan. I finally have a full family to come home to, and Nerian wants to force me to leave again. NO. I can’t afford to be away from my children. I missed their birth. I will not miss their lives. But there was something worse than him having to go away on another campaign. Nerian’s command. All Matii must enter military service.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Voice filled with concern, Thania eased up from him. “Why are you so tense?”
Ever so slowly, Stefan gently held the children away from him. He peered into their fair faces and innocent eyes. Anton’s dark hair sat on his head in small curls, while Celina’s had already grown down to her neck. They gazed back up at him, their expressions joyful. “They have inherited our power haven’t they?” His throat constricted.
“Yes,” Thania whispered. “Like any other Matii, it may not manifest until after they turn thirteen, but their ability is there. I can sense it. They are going to be strong, love. Very strong.”
A great fist squeezed at Stefan’s heart with each word. Tears began to trickle down his face again, in happiness and sorrow. “Can you tell if they will succumb to the madness?”
“Honey, they’re too young to tell.” Thania gave his shoulder a squeeze. “But if their ability to already control their emotions this young is any sign, they should be fine. But that isn’t all that’s troubling you, is it?”
Stefan shook his head. “I spent the evening with Nerian. He told me about the decree. And he wants me to lead this new army of his. He went so far as to tell me I wouldn’t refuse him then told me to go home to you, that you needed me.” Stefan stood. Hands ruffling his children’s hair, he stared into Thania’s face.
Thania’s eyes closed, and she took a deep breath. When she opened them again, they were moist. “Cerny said the King promised he wouldn’t enforce the new law on me if you agreed to lead.”
The pain Stefan witnessed in her eyes, the fear written across her crestfallen face meant only one thing. He asked anyway. “And the children?” He stopped playing in their hair, sliding his hands away.
The tears that had welled up in his wife’s eyes began to flow freely, leaving streaks in her makeup. Thania’s face contorted. Her lower lip quivered. “Cerny said the King would take them as part of that law should you refuse,” she said in a barely audible whisper.
Stefan folded her tenderly into his arms. Head lost in his shoulder, she wept even harder. A tug on his trousers revealed Anton on one side and Celina on the other, hugging onto both him and their mother. Although he fought against the urge to clench his fists, he could not help grinding his teeth or the smoldering he felt deep within the pit of his stomach. The heat of his emotions crawled across his body like a living beast, clawing its way to get out.