The door opened and the priest took one step in.

“She arrives. All is ready. If our future husband can take his place?”

He didn’t wait for responses.

He moved out.

“Do or die,” Luther said.

“True down, Alfie down, you’re up next,” Wallace said to Luther.

“Not a chance. Bram’s up next,” Luther retorted.

“I do not think so, it’ll be Florian,” Bram declared.

“I’ll be last, for so many wenches, it would be a shame to tie myself to one and not let others have their piece of me,” Florian decreed.

All of this nonsense came as they moved out of the door.

True walked beside Alfie as he wheeled.

They did this slowly, letting the others fall ahead in front of them.

“I know she carries your child and you two are not speaking of it, for you don’t wish to take the light away from Bronagh,” Alfie said quietly.

True studied his man intently as he asked, “You are loyal and wise and smart enough to fall in love with Bronagh, and you are also a healer who can sense a pregnancy?”

Alfie chuckled, shook his head, and replied, “Bronagh is a nurse.”

“Ah,” True murmured.

“And there is the added evidence that anytime she doesn’t think someone’s looking, she has her hand to her stomach. And anytime you’re with her and you think no one is looking, you have your hand to her stomach.”

It was then, True chuckled.

“I am happy for you, my friend,” Alfie said quietly.

“I am as well. But today, I am happier for you,” True replied.

He clamped his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

When he did, Alfie lifted his and patted True’s.

True walked, and Alfie wheeled, into the sanctuary.

He saw right away his wife, sitting in the front pew, did indeed give it all away for she sat with her hand as Alfie said.

Resting over their babe in her belly.

Her other hand, as it often did, was wrapped around the veneration to her mother that hung at her neck, close to her heart.

He liked that in the now, with his babe growing inside of her, her mother was that near to the both of them.

He smiled at her.

Farah beamed at him.

And then True stood by Alfie’s chair and watched Bronagh practically run down the aisle to her intended.

He then proudly stayed where he was and watched them get married.

“Alfie knows,” he murmured, watching his queen’s face and enjoying how it expressed how much she liked what he was doing with his fingers.

“Oh dear,” she muttered, pleasingly distractedly.

“Bronagh too,” he said.

“True?” she called.

“Mm?” he answered.

Her back arched, her topaz eyes focused on his, and she whispered, “Please stop talking.”

He smiled.

Then, in order to do that, he kissed her.

It would seem Sir Alfie and his lovely wife Bronagh were intent to take care of business early.