Page 123 of The Artist and the Dragon

“They’re to be married?” Ceridwen squeaked.

Apparently, that news hadn’t reached her yet, and she found it just as surprising as Bronwyn did. Lydia, not have a massive society wedding? It was the shock of the season.

“I suppose we’ll have to see,” their father said.

“All our darlings settling down and finding happiness.” Jaina wiped at her eyes.

Gerard chuckled and wrapped an arm around his wife. “There, there.”

Happy laughter filled the room. Drystan came and put an arm around his own wife. “Would you like to sit? You don’t want to tire yourself out so soon.”

She laughed. “I think I’ve done enough resting for a while.” The look her sister gave her husband was enough to make Bronwyn blush and glance away.

“Oh!” Ceridwen said, turning back to them. “But you all must sit. Rest.” She waved them toward the seating area. “Come.”

Bronwyn hesitated. “I think I’d like a bath first. And”—she glanced up at Malik—“a little time alone?” The sly grin spreading across his features said he understood her meaning perfectly. That one look was enough to stir up a mess of feelings that spurred a growing ache in her core.

Drystan coughed.

“Yes, of course,” Ceridwen replied. “I still can’t believe you took down the dragons.” She shook her head. “You’ll have to tell me everything when you’re ready.”

“We will,” Bronwyn promised. “But Malik did more than I.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. He flexed his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer. “I believe you landed the killing blow.”

“Good heavens,” Jaina gasped nearby. How appropriate that Bronwyn wielding a weapon should startle her sensibilities when the rest of this tableau didn’t.

The hint of a flush rose to Bronwyn’s cheeks. “Just that one.”

“But it’s the one that broke the curse,” Malik said.

“True.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Still, I prefer to think we did it together.”

He smirked and leaned in. “I can think of a few other things we could do together.”

“Malik!” Goddess above, had anyone else heard that? She really might die of embarrassment.

But he only chuckled and scooped her up into his arms.

“Whatareyou doing?” she scolded. “You shouldn’t be lifting things. Especially not me!”

“Excuse us, Your Majesties,” he said, ignoring her protests. “I think our curse-breaking princess needs a little rest.” Malik was met with a chorus of encouragement, and, with a gleeful laugh that rumbled in his chest, he carried her off.

For once, Bronwyn didn’t mind when the love of her life called herprincess.

Epilogue

2 years later

Bronwynaddedafewmore thin strokes of olive green to the canvas, trying to match the variations in the field outside her window. It was a sunny summer’s day, and the scent of the roses blooming outside wafted in on a light breeze. Across the way, one of the horses let out a playful neigh as it trotted in its pen.

“How is the painting coming along?” Malik asked as he came up behind her.

“Well.” She beamed at him. “I’m adding a few more finishing touches to make sure I have the colors layered just so.”

“Another masterpiece.” He looked it over appreciatively, his hands folded behind his back. The white shirt he wore beneath his waistcoat had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a style that never failed to set her core alight—a fact that he knew and exploited with wild abandon. “Who is this one for?”

“I haven’t fully decided.” She added another stroke and set the brush aside. “Maybe it would fit in Adair and Lydia’s nursery? She’s due soon, and I still haven’t gotten them a present.”

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