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Two years ago, Geralt and Yennefer had taken their whole Hansa to a winter festival. One that Ciri and Yennefer had looked forward to, Ciri for the food and Yennefer for a seasonal wine as well as the dancing. Cahir could remember them losing Geralt for a long while, as he had gone up to one of the hot springs up the hill from the main portion of the festivities.
It had been an enjoyable festival. He recalled, happily, watching Milva, Ciri, and Jaskier dancing around, with Jaskier also singing, sometimes Ciri joining him. Their whole company had been happy and carefree. A rare treat for them all.
Yennefer had opted to return this year, and when she and Geralt sent out the word they would attend, Zoltan decided they should all go. With everything settled in the wake of Ciri stepping up to the prophecy, their lot spent much less time together.
Jaskier traveled with Radovid, the two of them essentially a musical troupe, traversing all the Continent. Geralt and Yennefer had made a home for themselves on some land Geralt got by Law of Surprise over a decade ago, with Ciri frequently visiting them for weeks at a time. Zoltan and Regis had both taken up homes in a village near Yennefer and Geralt’s home with Regis operating as a physician known for miles and Zoltan again a famous blacksmith making all sorts of tools and toys in a rare kingdom where Dwarves and Elves were treated as equals to humans.
Milva had returned to Brokilon for a time, helping more Elves as even with Ciri having the help of the Witchers, the Lodge of Sorceresses, and a couple different kingdoms, she had not been able to change the world overnight and was still fighting to bring the peace the Elves sought for their people. Before she had left, she had kissed Cahir so passionately that he had thought she might have changed her mind about going back to Brokilon.
She had not. When he woke, having fallen asleep with Milva curled beside him in their final night before everyone was to go their separate ways, he found himself alone on his bedroll. Jaskier had given him a sad look, explaining that Milva left when Geralt was on watch, saying she wanted an early start. Cahir knew the truth. She did not wish to say ‘goodbye’. He recalled her confessing that she hated goodbyes.
Cahir had considered following her. She had never asked him, nor invited him. He took the hint.
Instead, when their company split up, Cahir had gone with Regis and Zoltan, helping the two set up their new homes for a few weeks before feeling restless. He had never truly known peace. When he had been a child, there had been so much in-fighting, that he mostly recalled his father and brothers dealing with battles, encroachment, and skirmishes over livestock.
Then there had been the Usurper. Living on scraps and learning to brawl in the streets. Joining the army when the White Flame rose up against the Usurper.
Years in the Nilfgaardian army. His time as the Black Knight. Fighting beside Gallatin, on the run with Yennefer, the attack on Artuza, and the weeks after, fighting for his life, trying to get to Ciri before joining the Hansa, where they fought for Ciri and then to protect her.
Cahir did not remember how to live a peaceful, quiet existence. The last time he had such a thing he had still been in swaddling. Regis and Zoltan both made it clear, whenever he wished, he was welcome back. Things were still a touch frosty between he and Geralt, and Cahir doubted they would ever be easy chums the way Geralt was with most of the Hansa.
He had opted to join a group Milva mentioned. One that helped Elves, Dwarves, and others get across places that were not safe for them, into places where they could be safe. They needed swordsmen, trackers, and guides. Cahir could be useful to them.
That had been almost eight months ago. Winter had meant a slowing of migration for the Elves and others, most people holing up wherever they could be warm and protected till Spring. Cahir had decided to head back to visit Regis and Zoltan.
Upon his arrival, Regis had been packing, and informed Cahir they had been invited by Yennefer and Geralt to join them at the same festival the Hansa had enjoyed two years prior. Regis intended to go, as there was a healer in that village whom he wished to swap herbal remedies with. Regis invited Cahir to spend the night and rest then to leave with Regis and Zoltan to join the others at the festival.
“Yennefer sent word, with Jaskier and Radovid, to let Milva know, as well as Yarpin and Percival. She had been in the village of Hastings, and heard Jaskier singing. She joined them for dinner, and made sure they knew to invite you, Yarpin, Percival, and Milva as they traveled, since Jaskier still keeps up with his connections he made as the Sandpiper, so that he can get messages to others, like you and Milva.”
“I had heard nothing about the festival, only that most of the Elves and others were staying wherever they were, until the Spring thaw.”
Regis nodded, putting a few more vials in a well-padded little trunk.
“You are welcome to travel with Zoltan and I. Because of what I carry, and sometimes having to bring those in my care back to my home so I may tend them, I’ve acquired a wagon and Zoltan is set to ride with me to the festival.”
The barber-surgeon looked up with a slight, inviting smile.
“You are more than welcome to join us. Jaskier and Radovid will be happy to see you, as will Yarpin and Percival when they arrive.”
Cahir had to admit, he longed to see everyone, to know how they had each faired. In the months he had been on his own, he had missed them all.
“Here, I’ll help you load the wagon.”
That had been four days ago. Regis and Cahir got the wagon packed, spent the night in Regis’s comfortable home, then woke to find Zoltan already waiting for them with his usual talkative demeanor. It had been good to ride with them, hearing them discussing what was going on in the small city they both resided in now, and telling him what Yarpin and Percival shared in their infrequent letters. Yarpin had married and was soon to expect their first child, Percival had a shop selling gems, crystals, and carvings where he made quite a bit of coin for himself.
When they arrived, last night, Regis had found a place to park his wagon and the three of them joined Percival at a place he had found to eat a meal in the warmth of one of the taverns. Several singers, musicians, poets, and actors were entertaining throughout the village for the festival. A group of jugglers and similar performers were at the tavern where the four of them ate together, as Percival caught them up. He had spotted Yennefer and Geralt on his way in, the two had been dancing on the edge of one of the crowds and he had heard Ciri was there with a few friends from her travels. No sign of Jaskier, Radovid, or Milva, and Yarpin sent his regards as he wished to stay with his wife rather than risk missing the birth of his child.
There were no rooms available, so they made camp under the wagon by a fire, and Percival had brought a tent he and Zoltan could share to stay warm, and to drink half the night away. Regis had woken early, fixing a good breakfast for the four of them to enjoy before they went into the village to enjoy the festivities.
Cahir had barely made it halfway into the main street when he heard a familiar voice singing a tune he had not yet heard before. Turning, her found Radovid in a long cranberry coloured coat, playing a small drum between his knees with one hand, shaking a little stick with bells in his other hand, smiling as Jaskier, in his signature red coat, played the lute brightly, signing a lively tune as he dancing up and down a long table set up in one of the streets. Cahir smiled, joining in to clap in time with the music, cheering along as Jaskier’s bawdy tune had the audience excitedly dancing and celebrating.
When the song concluded, Jaskier thanked the crowd and reminded them to come back later in the evening after sunset, for another set from Jaskier and his partner. The crowd dispersed, heading out towards other performers, games, and stalls throughout the village. Radovid spotted Cahir first, calling out to him. Cahir smiled as the pair moved through the crowd to join him next to a stall selling candies.
“You two look well, and you sound amazing.”
Radovid leaned into Jaskier’s side, as Jaskier positively beamed at the compliment.
“It’s a good day for a lively tune.”, Jaskier offered before slinging his lute in its case, back over his shoulder, “I thought we would walk around, and see who all we could find, and have something to eat, before we came back to perform some more.”
“Regis, Percival, and Zoltan went down closer to the creek. Regis’s herbalist friend has a booth down that way.”
Radovid nodded, “I think I’ll head down that way. I was going to get some more of that ointment for your hands.”
Jaskier smiled, leaning to press a light kiss to his beloved’s lips. Cahir looked away, feeling a slight pang of envy at the easy way the pair shared. Something that escaped him when he had laid bare his feelings to Milva, and she returned to Brokilon.
“Thank you.”
Radovid smiled as he moved to tuck in own two instruments away.
“Can’t have your fingers blistering, now can I? How would you play so beautifully for me then?”
Once Radovid had gone, Jaskier let out a breath, his face changing from the bright happiness of a moment ago to a concerned expression when he looked back up at Cahir.
“Milva came in with us.”
“She did?”
Cahir could not hide his surprise.
“I had not heard she was coming.”, he tried to cover, to sound less like an excited puppy.
Jaskier offered a slight smile, “We were passing near Brokilon, and I sent word with a friend to let Milva know where we were heading. Two days later, she was waiting for us at a river crossing.”
Cahir nodded.
“Is she well?”
Jaskier gave a quick nod, “She looked healthy, she was a bit chattier than I recall. Things are going well for the elves she’s been helping of late. They’ve set up a thriving existence up in the hills. She said there are even two elven women expecting full-blooded elvish babes by spring.”
That was good news. Cahir knew, from his time with Fringilla in Nilfgaard, how rare such a child was. Let alone two.
“That is welcome news.”
Jaskier reached, giving Cahir’s arm a single pat.
“She had mentioned wanting to check out the hot springs, later in the evening, when everyone is down enjoying all the dancing and drinking.”
He recognized this for what it was. Jaskier was letting him know not to go looking for Milva, that she would let Cahir find her when she was ready. Although, he still intended to head for the hot springs once the evening festivities really got going. It had been his intention to go up to the hot springs to release the kinks from his shoulders after sleeping rough on the ground last night in the winter. If not for Regis thinking to have the cookfire going as long as he had before they retired, even the ground would have been frozen solid for them to sleep on.
“Come.”, Jaskier offered, “Let us find Geralt, Yennefer, and the others. We have a lot of catching up to be done.”
~*~*~*~
They had found the others, joining them for a walk through the stalls, everyone getting treats for themselves as they talked. Yennefer discussed how Triss’s work with the latest student-sorceresses was going, and Cahir was happy to hear Fringilla was doing well as she worked to help train the next generation to wield chaos to their will. Everyone was happy to start bets on if Yarpin’s first born would be a boychild or girl, and when the child would arrive. Cahir’s bet was for two weeks from the festival, and it would be a daughter. Percival had that it would be a boy who would arrive before the end of the festival they were at. Regis was keeping track of the bets, and not placing any himself.
Cahir was glad to see nearly-all of the Hansa, and those they loved, were doing well. They even crossed paths with Ciri, who dragged Yennefer and Jaskier out with her to ice skate on the nearby inlet of the lake, that had frozen over. It brought Cahir an unfamiliar peace as he watched the Child of Prophecy, laughing as she skated backwards ahead of Jaskier and Yennefer, who still had to lean on one another a bit as they skated unsteadily towards their Princess.
Geralt nolonger walked with injuries he felt the need to hide, Yennefer nolonger sought great political might, Jaskier happily traveled with a partner, Regis was part of a community as were Yarpin, Percival, and Zoltan, Ciri had friends and purpose, and Milva had returned to the only home she felt safe in. Some days, he could not believe they had all survived the journey to even have such a fate as a peaceful life.
Cahir found a corner to prop a shoulder against a pole with ribbons hanging from it, eating a pastry with some sort of sweetened fruit preserves as he watched everyone enjoying themselves. It was much as he remembered from when they had come two years ago. The only difference was that now, none of them were on the run, they were nolonger hunted with prices on all of their heads.
He would never tire of seeing all of them, smiling and happy, together. It was rare now, for more than two or three of them to be together at a time. Not like it had been in their days when they still sought out Cirilla.
Cahir noticed that it was late enough for Jaskier and Radovid to move, clear in their intent to begin playing again for the crowd. He decided now was the time to go and head for the hot springs. Even if Milva was not there, or saw him and decided to return to the others, at least he could soak in the springs where there were minerals that made the springs especially valued for the healing properties. Perhaps then his shoulders would ease and he would not feel like a man of more than 60 years.
As he began to make his way towards the springs, he thought he saw Milva, for a second between others in the crowd. He paused, looking. It would hardly be the first time Cahir had believed himself to have spotted the archer. After a long moment, he shook his head and moved on.
Halfway up to the springs, Cahir could still hear Jaskier’s singing though it was dulled. He attributed it to all the snow and so many bodies, smothering the sound. He smiled to himself, remembering a legend Milva had shared with him that the dryads had taught her. They believed the stars to be living things who could only faintly hear and see what went on down below, that they had to strain to listen. He wondered if those stars felt the same as he did, happily able to hear the music and voices but unable to make out specific words.
In the months he had been alone, he missed everyone, but none so keenly as he missed Milva. For her, he ached. When they had shared watch, she would tell him stories of the Dryads and elves, ones they had shared with her in all the time she had lived with them. She joked about accidents she had when she was learning to track and hunt. He had loved to hear her laugh.
He had never considered himself to be a charming, funny person. Mostly, Cahir could say what he needed to get his way when it came to leading men or convincing someone to align with him for a task. Cahir had neither Jaskier’s alluring charm nor Yennefer’s direct way of commanding a room. He was a wayward former soldier, only half educated as befitting the son of a Lord, with little to no patience, and a bad temper. Yet, there had been times when he could make Milva laugh.
Cahir had also loved her smile. It was far easier than he had expected, to get her to smile. When he went fishing and brought back his catch, she always smiled. Any time he offered his assistance in a chore that was hard to do with only two hands, or when he offered to show her a few things with a dagger so that she could have a few more skills in a fight, she had smiled for him.
Cahir had known many beautiful women, of several races on the Continent, from the daughters of wealthy lords to the sisters of tavern owners, and the wives of knights. None had a smile as lovely as Milva’s. Cahir treasured it every time he was witness to it.
If he were honest, he missed far more than her smile or laughter. He missed the way her eyes were always watchful, that she was a true archer, never missing a thing. How bluntly she spoke, the way she teased Jaskier and goaded Geralt.
She was capable, not overly chatty, grumpy at times, sassy at others, and wholly self-reliant. She needed no one. If she had you in her company, either she thought you needed her, or she enjoyed your company enough to keep you around.
Upon reaching the one plateau where four smaller hot springs were, Cahir breathed in the hot, damp air, scented by decorations of dried berries and cut evergreen branches. It made him think of holidays as a child. There was a nursemaid who cared for he and his brothers. There had been a holiday she celebrated, and while Cahir could remember very little of it, he could recall her taking dried fruit to string and circle candles with it, making her whole room and all her dresses smell of the fruit. He smiled at the faded memory.
He had lucked out and no one was in any of the baths made by the springs. Opting for the one in the far corner, giving him the best view in case Milva did decide to come up to the hot springs as Jaskier had offered her intent to do, Cahir stripped first of his weapons and boots. Someone had taken the time to leave a few small stools near the pools, as if they knew people might want to keep their items from slipping in or becoming soggy in the melted snow around the springs.
He folded his clothes and laid them on the stool, then looked to find the best place to slip in. He had never bathed in one of these before and was unsure what to expect of the heat and the minerals in the water. Even Regis had said how healing the effect was, between the heat and contents of the water.
Cahir hissed as his heel touched the water first, the heat more than he expected. With the steamy air, he figured that he should have expected it to be far warmer than his own body was. Especially after hours of walking about in the winter breezes as he milled about the festival below.
With a slow breath, he eased his second foot in. It was indeed hot. Cahir carefully moved till he was hip-deep in the water. It got more comfortable as he got used to it, and had less of his body up in the cooler air where the breeze stole some of the warmth off the air just above the springs.
“Hm.”, he groaned as he went further, the hot water coming up to his ribs and already easing some of the ache in his bones, “That does feel better.”
Off to the other side, there was a bit of a ledge he figured he could hold onto to help stay in place. Cahir moved across to it. With the water up to his chin, only his hands and face out of the water now, he felt almost as if he were in a dream. Floaty and warm, his muscles like a freshly boiled pudding.
“You look comfortable, Nilfgaardian.”
He smiled, then opened his eyes. When had he closed them?
There stood Milva, at the edge of the little plateau. She wore a simple green tunic over tan breaches and her boots, her hair a little longer than when he last saw her, a smirk on her beautiful face as she put her hands on her hips.
“I am, elf.”
“I’m not an elf.”
He grinned back at her, “And I am not a Nilfgaardian.”
Without requiring an invite, she drew closer. Cahir supposed some might have tried to conceal themselves. He did not bother. Between the amount of him she had seen while patching his wounds and what she had seen of his nightmares, he knew there was nothing to hide from her.
Milva came till she was hovering just off the edge of the pool Cahir occupied. Rather than speaking, she crouched down, reaching to test the water with the tips of her fingers. Her eyes moved to where her hand was. Cahir waited.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Cahir half thought this to be a dream. One he was in no hurry to rush back to the waking world from.
“Jaskier said you were up here.”
“He said you might come up.”
Her dark eyes moved to meet his.
“Were you hoping I would jump in and join you?”
Cahir shook his head.
“I just wanted to see you. I thought, if I were in when you came, you would know I could not so easily chase you if you decided to leave.”
She arched a dark eyebrow, “You meant to make the next move entirely mine to make?”
He nodded, never breaking eye contact with the archer.
“What if I had seen you, and rushed back to the festival?”
He did not try to hide how he felt, no brave face or mask of indifference.
“I would not have stopped you, and I would not have returned to the festival next year.”
Milva stood. Cahir let his head fall. She was going to leave. Again.
Then, he heard the sound of something dropping. Looking up, he found Milva with her back to him, having dropped a shoe to the side and now moving to untie her second boot. Despite how happy he was for this, Cahir held a hand over his eyes, aware Milva liked her privacy.
He listened as she stripped, putting her clothing on a rack like the one his sat upon, then he heard her slight hiss as something moved in the pool beside the one he was in. Cahir could imagine it was Milva having much the same reaction he did to the first step into the waters. A larger splash with a small gasp had Cahir snapping his head up, looking.
Milva surfaced just as Cahir was about to leap from his own pool to come to her aid, but instead she was grinning as she floated. Cahir let out breath. Milva’s grin widened.
“Did you think I was drowning?”
“The thought occurred to me when I heard the splash.”
Drawing over to the edge of her own pool, Milva crossed her arms over the rocky edge, resting her chin atop her arms. Cahir settled back into the water of his own pool, sitting back where he had been when Milva arrived. He meant to stick to his plan, whatever their next step was, it had to be her choice.
That last night, before she left, Cahir had made his own desires plain. He confessed his love, in all its depth, to Milva. He told her that he wanted to be with her, that he had no specific idea of going back to Vicovaro or Nilfgaard or even Brokilon. He just wanted to be with Milva, wherever she went, helping her at whatever task she set her mind to.
Then she left. He woke up alone on that bedroll. In the months that had since passed, he had a lot of time to think. Perhaps he had rushed Milva, had just laid too much at her feet, too quickly. He had all but proposed only seconds after admitting he loved her, and they had not so much as kissed, let alone discussed the future.
This time, he wanted to do things right by her. He wanted to make sure that she could decide what, if anything, happened next.
“How have you been?”
“Well. There were some friends I was able to go and help. I looked up Yarpin and Percival, and stayed nearby for a while. Yarpin has a home, near the city he’s from, and I helped him get the roof on and finish building the one wall.”
“I never pictured you building things.”
He smiled, “Neither did I, but… I enjoyed it. More than I expected to.”
“How are Yarpin and Percival? I heard Yarpin is married, and they are expecting.”
“He is, and they are. Percival has a shop, he’s making a good amount of coin. He’ll be filthy rich in a couple more years. And best of all, he’s able to afford some kind of incense to burn so that he doesn’t have to deal with unpleasant odors.”
Her laughter filled the air just as the steam did. Cahir delighted in the sound.
“How have you been?”
She shrugged one shoulder.
“I went back to Brokilon. They sensed some of what had happened to me, they wanted to mourn.”, she shook her head, “I had already done my mourning for what might have been. I was helping a group of Dwarves when it occurred to me, I’ve done all the mourning for What Might Have Been that I care to do, and that I’m…”
She trailed off, looking away from Cahir over to the treeline. He waited. Cahir could wait as long as she needed of him.
“I am tired of keeping everyone at arm’s length. The Dryads have looked after me as best they knew how since I arrived at their doorstep. But being on the road with the Hansa, even after we got Ciri back, it felt different.”
She looked back at him, with a longing in her eyes and voice that broke something in him.
“I felt like I belonged. Like I was home. It wasn’t till I was gone, with the Dryads, and the Dwarves who looked to me as a guide rather than a friend, that I realized what I had left behind and how much I missed it.”
Cahir waited a moment, before speaking again.
“Something I heard Yennefer say, once, shortly after we got Cirilla back. Home isn’t always a place, sometimes it’s the face you see across the campfire or the breakfast table.”
Milva nodded, “I could definitely get used to seeing a certain face across the fire.”
She looked up at him, her smirk back in place.
“Or across the breakfast table, on a pillow next to mine, in the reflection of the water we are fishing together in.”
“Milva, say the word, and I’m yours. Whatever I am, whatever I will be, it is all yours.”
That smile. The soft one that was far more rare than her smirks or her arched eyebrow. She reached a calloused hand out to him.
“I want to be home, with you.”
Cahir climbed back out of his pool, barely feeling the cold of the breeze as he moved, sliding into the same pool with Milva. She turned, moving across to join him, her warm arms wrapping around his shoulders, his own at her waist, pulling her flush against him. Milva’s hand moved to his damp curls, tilted his head down till she could press her lips to his own.
Cahir could have burst. This was real. He was not dreaming.
Milva was here. In his arms. Kissing him passionately.
When she pulled away, he could hear her panting over the pounding of his own heart. He rested his forehead against hers, smiling. Milva’s fingers moved in his hair, her short nails scraping at his scalp.
“Jaskier said there are some friends of his who would are helping some Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, and a few others settle, in a place not far from Vicovaro. They want to make a city, right now it’s a tiny village.”
Cahir smiled.
“Sounds perfect.”
“We can still do things to help them, but it would be a place where a not-elf and a not-Nilfgaardian would be welcome. Somewhere that we can have a new start, with others looking to have a new, peaceful life.”
“A peaceful life, just the pair of us? You sure you won’t get bored?”
Milva bumped the tip of her nose against his, smiling brightly at him.
“I’m sure you will keep me busy. I’ve heard you know how to build walls and roofs. You could teach me, that would be a start.”
He leaned, softly kissing her full lips, lingering close to her. For a long moment, he breathed her in, still not entirely convinced this was real and not a torturous dream.
“Regis offered me a remedy to avoid the predicament I was in, at the start of the Hansa. He said that way, if I chose to be a mother, it would be a choice – not an accident. I think he had figured out what I wanted, before I said anything.”
Cahir gave a nod, “If you want children, Milva, I would love to raise them with you. And if you don’t want them, I will be just as happy to have you all to myself in the years to come. I would not ask you to endure that for my sake.”
She kissed him again.
“Ask me again in a year, when we come back to the next festival with our friends.”
He grinned, “Does that mean you intend to keep me around for the next year?”
Milva wrapped her legs around his hips with a grin.
“I intend to keep you around for a lot longer than that, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach of Vicovaro. Much, much longer.”
“Good.”, he pressed a kiss to her lips, “Cause now that I have you, I don’t ever want to let you go again.”
“When I left that morning, I was so afraid you would wake.”
“Why would It have been so terrible? Just because you hate goodbyes?”
She shook her head, her now pruney fingers trailed along his shoulder and down his arm.
“I thought, if I had to look you in the eyes while doing it, I might not be able to say ‘goodbye’ to you, and to walk away from you.”
Her eyes slowly slipped back up to meet his. For a moment, she just stared into his eyes.
“Your eyes were what made me fall in love with you, I was not sure I could see what happened in them when I walked away.”
Again, he let his forehead rest against hers as he thought for a moment.
“If I hadn’t had the time to think, with you having such a head start on me, I might have chased you.”
“I wasn’t ready yet.”
“Not sure I was either, I just wanted to be.”
“And now?”
Cahir smiled, “I’m ready. Completely ready. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Milva. If you’ll have me?”
Her lips were soft and warm, a hint of the cranberry wine on them as she kissed him slowly.
“I’ll have you.”
“Good.”
She kissed him again and Cahir hoped it would just be the first and 10,000 kisses. Cahir adjusted, helping Milva to be pressed chest to chest with him, not even enough room for a little water between them. He felt her go rigid, and turned his head to look. They had company. Specifically, two women and three men, all complaining of stiff, aching shoulders and backs from working to put the festival together.
Milva chuckled against Cahir’s chest. He let his forehead fall to her shoulder, a light growl escaping that made Milva chuckle harder. Her warm hand carded through his hair.
“Maybe later, lover.”, she teased.
He turned his head, pressing a kiss to the underside of her jaw.
“Would you prefer I bring your clothes?”
He knew she liked her privacy. Milva shook her head.
“There is enough steam they cannot see much, and they don’t appear to care we are here. Just…”, she got a little shy on him, but Cahir waited, “hold me?”
He smiled, “Always.”
Moving in the warm water, he found a place he could sit that allowed him to just barely have his neck and face out of the water. With Milva sitting side saddle across his lap, he could keep an arm around her back easily, letting her rest her head on his shoulder, his other arm holding her at the thighs so she did not drift away from him in the warm pool.
He felt her contented sigh as she settled. Looking, he found her eyes closed, a peaceful expression on her lovely face. Cahir knew he did not deserve a second chance, with so much blood on his hands that would never wash off, but if he could spend the rest of his days keeping that smile on Milva’s face, he would consider it a gift from Fate, and never squander it. Milva deserved nothing but happiness and he intended to dedicate the rest of his life to making sure she had it.
“Cahir?”
“Yes?”
“Stop thinking so much, I’m trying to sleep.”
He smiled, leaning to press a kiss to her nose as he could not manage her lips at this angle, “As my lady commands.”
Her smiled widened, and he felt her muscles relax a bit further. Cahir was content, happier than he could ever remember being, and he held a smiling, sleeping Milva in his arms. It was a perfect night.