Her eyes met his, shining with unshed tears and something else. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too. I always have, from the first moment I laid eyes on you in the forest.”

An exhausted smile curled her lips. “You didn’t even know me.”

“I felt like I did. I wanted to.”

“You were peeping at me like a scoundrel.”

“Guilty. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. You don’t regret following me that night? Leaving everything we’d known for all those years?”

“Not for one second,” he said, somewhat surprised to find his words true, for on that night of nights as he’d run under Narcissi’s boughs, fueled by adrenaline and his undeniable love for this woman, he’d wondered if he’d gone half-mad. “When I saw you standing there, not gone yet, still waiting for me, all I regretted was not acting on my love for you sooner. We are building this future together. You, me, and—”

The rest of his thought was cut off as her hand clamped down upon him with renewed force, her face racked with pain. “Stop yer jabberin’ and PUSH!” demanded the midwife.

Which Cora did, mouth opening so wide that Cainan could see the back of her throat, the sound that emerged one of effort, of strength, of a mother who wanted to do nothing but bring her child into the world, into her arms.

Which she did, a brown fleshy creature finally squirming free into the midwife’s grasp. With practiced efficiency, she cut through the cord and peered down at the child, which was as silent as a sleeping lamb. Cainan didn’t know much about childbirth, but he knew a babe should be loud, announcing its arrival into the world with a hungry cry.

The silence stretched on, drawing a single question from Cora’s lips. “Cainan?”

He looked at her, then back at the midwife, who was doing something to the baby’s lips—sticking her finger inside its mouth. And then—

A wail that was music to their ears burst into the world. The midwife grinned a toothy grin. “Well done. Meet yer daughter.” She handed the infant to Cora, who cradled her to her breast.

“A girl? We have a daughter?”

“She is…breathtaking,” Cainan said, feeling his eyes well with tears of relief and joy and love, not just for this new creature that he’d somehow played a small role in creating, but for the woman who held her in arms that looked like they’d been made for this job. His daughter’s cry had gone silent now, her hungry lips finding a ready source of sustenance and comfort.

“She is, isn’t she?” Cora said. “She is perfect. Our perfect little girl. Our Bryony.”

The shouts had returned, followed soon after by the pounding of boots on stone, then the clash of weapons. Did the forest have swords now? Cainan could almost imagine blades wielded by vines slashing and parrying as they fought their way inside the fortress.